KILLING ME SOFTLY 𖣔 EUPHORIA [FEZCO]

1.8

Priscilla took a moment.

She stared at her tired reflection in the mirror.

Her eyes began to sink underneath her skin as the grey shadow casted itself in place.

She took a deep breath, beginning to tie her long hair up into a tight ponytail.

She turned on the bathroom faucet, holding her fingers underneath as the water ran cold.

Priscilla cupped her hands together, throwing whatever she gathered onto her face. Taking breaths in between as the girl continued the action.

Gia knocked on the door softly, pushing the door open.

"Heard anything?" The younger girl leaned against the doorframe, her thumbs hanging out of the pockets of her tight jeans.

Priscilla shook her head, fanning her hands over her face, drying up the excess water.

"No," she spoke, "she turned her location off too."

Sleep deprivation, worry and aggravation was all that the teenager could feel right now. To the point where the day didn't even feel like reality. Just another filler episode in the drama that was her life.

As the faucet continued to run, Priscilla splashed herself once more, shutting off the water as she grabbed the hand towel beside her.

"You know what," Priscilla realized, "where's her laptop? We can literally use Find-."

"She broke it," Gia cut her off before shutting the bathroom door behind her.

Priscilla sat down on the folded-over toilet seat, her face in the palm of her hands.

She didn't know if she should begin to wrry at the fact that her life didn't feel real. She learned to dissociate herself from almost every traumatizing experience so well, that it didn't really effect her as much as it should have. Rue could be anywhere, with anyone, doing what she could to cope. Today felt similar to a fever dream, one of those dreams that it is so bizarre and coatic to your physical form, that your head hurts from even imagining it. Priscilla laughed off the feeling, yearning for a cup of coffee or an hour of sleep more than anything else.

Priscilla began to spiral into a pit of self loathing.

Priscilla hated the city she was from, her family dynamic, how she had felt so alone in everything she had faced this year. Her parents were completely clueless to what she had been doing with her free time. Even if she opened up to them, had a heart to heart like normal teenagers. She knew their most reasonable solution would be to move her to different school, even if it was nearing senior year. Just move, start over and pretend like nothing ever happened.

The girl felt hateful in the sense that she let her bestfriend get this bad. Just one more joint turned into a couple of more pills, just to help her sleep. A couple of more Adderrals, just to help her stay focused and study. Let her take a couple of shots, it's a party and she has social anxiety, she'll relax and come out of her shell.