Reality Containment

Angel

I sleep in, a lot. I don't know how it's possible I'm still exhausted the rest of the day. If anything I sleep probably more than I should. No, I don't have parties to go to, if anything I don't have many friends either. In fact I don't even know what I do with my time anymore. No dear reader I'm not an emo friendless dick head, I'm just awkward at times... Okay all the time.

I hear a notification on my phone from my email, my phone was blowing up! Wait nevermind, it's just emails from a professor.
Oh no. I had an art assignment. I was supposed to do it over the month and "gradually" make the sculpture. First issue on my hands was that the clay was still in the packaging. You see I don't do much during classes, other than the bigger parts of course. And the professor is lucky to get anything the entire semester. I didn't wanna go to college okay? Mommy issues are tough.

Okay, okay I've been working on, what does my psychology teacher say? OH YEAH! I need to work on positive self talk. She also gave me a few rubber ducks, a journal, and gel pens. Look, I don't wanna be rude but what are gel pens going to do about my "positive self talk"?! The teacher told me that day that gel pens will make me feel creative, reminder, I despise art. What makes her think I wanna be "creative" in the slightest?

All I have that makes me feel artistic, in a sense, are washable markers, broken colored pencils, and some old water paints from kindergarten. I get home sick okay? Don't judge me man. Wait. THE ASSIGNMENT. I ran across the campus to Peyton's apartment. Shit she's not here, we always told her she was that early bird in those metaphors from grade school.

I saw her at the bus stop waiting unpatiently in the rain for the bus. Wait, hold on. She never takes the bus when it rains. The hell is going on? Alright I'm going to break the fourth wall here, how do I know that? Oh well, fun fact she ranted about how her hair issues and how the rain messes up everything, especially on the bus. She even has a umbrella 24/7. Yes, I'm not joking she could literally be one of those agents from Spy Kids, and my reaction finding out would be completely calm. Mostly. But, my point is she shouldn't be out here, especially without an umbrella. I decided to see if I was seeing properly and closed my eyes for a millisecond. I swear it was only a second.

They were gone, not just her either. The bus was gone along with them. Did they get on that fast? That's not possible though, I mean Peyton was never a runner. HAH! Point for me, I was always the better runner.

Oh well, I mean I guess I could try and find someone else. However that'll mean talking to people. You know what, let's be responsible for once and talk to the professor for once, that's smart, right? Maybe it'll make me get a higher grade? Just maybe??

I'm walking to the professors rooms' direction, which is a long ish walk. Hold on, is that Peyton? And she wasn't drenched either? How does that work, I mean she was in the rain shouldn't she be freaking out about her hair? And did she change? I swear last time I saw them they were wearing a huge hoodie and sweats, now they're in black leggings and a t-shirt.

"Peyton!!!" I call out to them, I swear this isn't making any sense at all. And the worse part is, they look at me concerned, more concerned then usual. Which my friends, is never a good sign.

"Oh, hello Angel," they said it with irritation in their voice. They sounded tired, they probably were. Peyton has the tendency to not like sleep. Do I know why? Nope. Will they tell me? Probably if I bothered them enough.

"Do you have that sculpture we were supposed to make? I... forgot...mine?"  Which, wasn't a complete lie. But, not a complete truth. I mean I forgot about the assignment, well made myself forget. However, never did it. In fact if clay rots it probably will the rest of my college years.

"You forgot? How? The professor sent us thirty-four emails saying it was due today at 12:00PM sharp." Here they go again. Trust me I've heard this little rant multiple times on how I need to be more responsible. It's hard to believe they're younger than me. I look at my pretend watch that I always use to piss them off and look back at them, smirk and give them the finger, of course all in games. Sort of at least, they knew when I was serious and when I wasn't.

Now, I might be going insane but I swear there looked like a real watch on my wrist. Something you should know, I own zero watches. I used to, but they became accessories that just got put in the drawer after one wear. Which, as my mother said was a waste of space and money, one of the few things I agreed with her on. I blinked and the fancy golden watch once laying on my wrist was now a wrist band.

Was I going insane!? I mean Peyton looked at me like I was analyzing a drug. I mean I would think the same to be fair. I swear, I've never touched weed, marijuana, or any drug in general. I've never smoked, I was against all of it. So I knew for sure it wasn't drugs making me go insane. Unless, the ibuprofen I took for last night's Migraines counted. Next thing I know, Peyton was gone again. Did they say bye?

I look back down at the now semi purple and semi blue wrist band, but now it was a quarter. All I could hear was myself repeating "It's all a dream, you're going insane." None of this could be happening. I slapped myself, closed my eyes and refused to open them until my art professor repeatedly said my name, and had me open my eyes.

I was in his room. I'm so confused on how any of this stuff happened, it just did. But a huge part of me in the inside questioned everything and out loud I said, "Am I in the right room?"