-where art takes us-

a car ride the neighbors won't forget

The school double door swings close behind me as I recognize my mother franticly waving at me. Tying to signalize me to get my ass in the car. Switching from normal walking to jogging I reach the car and hop over the passenger door and throw my bag as well as my shoes I stripped off my feet in the back of the car.

After the engine has been started, I reach for the radio control and increase the volume until it can no longer be louder. The song that comes up is "Sweet Dreams" by Eurythmics. Everyone in a 10-kilometer radius can hear us which would also explain the stunned glances we come across or it's due to the fact that we completely lost it and started screaming the lyrics more than singing them properly.

I throw my hands in the air and I'm sure my mom would accompany me with that if she wouldn't need to hold on to the steering wheel. "Hold your head up, movin' on, keep your head up, movin' on, hold your head up, movin' on, keep your head up". we come to a stop at a red light, which doesn't stop us from enjoying the song.

In the chorus, my hands slide down to my head, exercise my chest, and into my lap while I let my shoulders and chest rotate to the beat of the music. Only to let them wander back up into my hair that I pull up and let it fall down again when my hands reach to the sky. Right before the lights turn green again I open my eyes and notice the car next to us.

A truck with an also familiar face in it. Munson's confusion switches to annoyance the moment I flip him the bird and stick my tongue out. Letting Munson behind, my mom asks me if I knew that boy to which I shrug my shoulders. "More or less. Rather less though. Just some dude from school, one of the freaks." I return nonchalantly.

 The music changes and some Elvis song starts playing to which my mother begins to squeak "Omg I love that song. That's what your mother's teen years looked like.". For the rest of the song, she continues to hum to the melody. I almost forgot where we were heading when we suddenly stood in our driveway. "So hun, we're here and this time open the door, would you?" she comments quickly before getting out the car herself.

I take my shoes back on and stroll to my room. By yeeting my bag and myself with it I almost kill my cat who hides curled up in a ball between my pillows. " Sorry buddy, but I am exhausted by all these exercises and mental stress. Like I had to lower my IQ by 90% to understand this primitive caveman Jason." I tell my cat who is still offended by the attempted assassination.

I pull myself out of bed to get the rest of my room done by today. It's not that much but after the events that accrued, I am doomed and can't bring myself to do anything...well no without music and certainly not in this outfit.

 I quickly change into some men's boxers, fuzzy socks, and a large AC/DC shirt my mom gave me for passing my driver's license. Fitting to my shirt, I turn on my record player and the record that was already on it starts to spit out the tones, TNT starts playing, and out of irony, I start to smile. Bon Scott starts to scream in my ears while competing with the clearly outstanding guitar volume.

If I had to explain my style and the one of my room I would sum it up by describing it as cottagecore, vintage junk shop, and witchcraft having a tea party. All the walls are plastered with shit like doodles, art, fairy lights, a garland of bras, tons of differently shaped mirrors, suncatchers, and vines fighting their way through the mess. The remaining doesn't really set itself apart from the already described. Lots of plants, types of vinyl, artsy shit that is installed in front of a large window which has a beautiful view of the garden and the forest following behind and loads of rocks and crystals.

I have a place in my heart for rocks. You know how penguins give each other rocks to prove their love? Well, why aren't we doing that in real life, huh?

Aside from my bed, there is also a brown leather couch and some huge pillows spread around the room, and a beanbag as a place to chill for the rare occasion that someone got lost and ended up in my room.

Because of the ceiling being so far down I have no wardrobe that fits all my clothes, which is a lot, almost enough for two lives, and fit inside my room. So my mom promised to give me some money with which I can go and search for a dresser that meets my criteria. For the time being, I have to live with my clothes lying on the ground and being stuffed in boxes.