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"teenager, noun: someone who is ready for the zombie apocalypse but not ready for the math test tomorrow" -tumblr anon
song to listen to: smells like teen spirit by nirvana
warnings: mentions of drugs, drug-use, strong language, mentions of death, mentions of violence, sexual jokes/references
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friday, october seventh, nineteen-ninety-four
"Last night, a bloody massacre at Shadyside Mall left at least eight people deceased. Reports of screams from inside the mall prompted police response after a number of phone calls-" Dad read from his police report while I poured myself an unfortunately cold cup of coffee.
"Okay, Dad, do you have to do this with every single case that gets put on your desk?" I asked with an eye roll.
"Yes, Jen, I absolutely have to. And, weren't you friends with Ryan and Heather? And, I've never gotten a big case like this before, so shut it." He replied with a smile my mom would call charming.
"I mean, me and Heather talked to each other in English, and Ryan was in my art class so we helped each other with some projects, but other than that? Nah, I'd say we were more school friends than friend-friends." I took a sip of the coffee, and then I poured the rest down the drain.
"So, what do we think about this one?" Dad asked. "Should we call your Aunt to hear about the witch suspicions going around town, or should you help me with this case?"
I stayed silent. He exasperatedly sighed. I refused to let my silence stop.
"Shadyside, small-town America. But among locals, a history of horror has earned it another nickname: Killer Capital U.S.A.," he began to read from a different newspaper now, and I tossed an empty bottle of orange juice at him.
"Okay, Cameron, you do know I can read for myself, right?"
"I'm well aware, Jennifer. But I'm only preparing you for the massacre of questions you'll get asked at school, considering tons of people saw you and RyanTorres hanging out in art class together before he snapped."
"Dad, don't be like that, maybe Auntie M's right, maybe-"
"Alrighty, speaking of school, Jen, you've gotta get going!" Mom spoke in her signature Mom-tone as she walked into the kitchen and grabbed a blueberry muffin off of Dad's plate. "Don't wanna be late again, honey."
