the first cigarette

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Today was a boring day.

Every day trapped in this dungeon they called Mount Prep was mind-numbingly tedious for Evie.

What can you expect when you are stuck with pompous fake heirs all day?

She lit up the cigarette on her lips, a soft ember of the flame dancing on her lighter, an orange hue lighting up her otherwise emotionless face. At least that's what her father called it.

But to Evie, his opinion was smaller than a grain of fucking salt.

Ah, the bitter taste of tobacco on her lungs. Her only cure to the torture was having to stare at the same white fucking walls for seven hours.

Evie wasn't an addict. She didn't go bonkers without a cigarette or anxious if she didn't sense the smell at least once a day, but goddamn it, it was the only escape to this hell she unfortunately called school. The only way her rebellious heart could beat again after being numbed by her professors' word vomits and her peers, if she could even call them that, annoying voices, talking about the same thing over and over again. Like a cheap broken fucking record.

What Damien Black was doing hiding under the bleachers with a blonde girl. How Isobel Wright got caught cheating on whoever the fuck was her boyfriend again.

Could no one fucking see how fake it all was? The walls, the desks, the people, the whole damn school reeked of cheap plastic. Sometimes, Evie felt like the only lucid mind and was surrounded by lunatics who thought living their day like that was normal.

Well. Perhaps she was the insane one after all.

How could one live when slowly smelling the poison for their being every day? Hour by hour. Minute by minute. Evie felt as if her essence was being stripped away every fucking second she spent at this soul-sucking school.

And now she was going through an artist's worst nightmare.

A block. A wall.

A void of imagination.

The words were always so clear to her.

When she touched her guitar, she could hear the melodies inside her heart and bring them to life with the flicks of her fingers. The words danced on her tongue with each note. It was as easy as breathing.

But now, a grey fog haunted her mind whenever she touched the metal strings.

The first time it happened was a week ago when she finally entered her cave after a tortuous day of listening to her classmate's annoying, poisonous voices.

Her heart picked up its pace as she felt the strings on her fingertips, but as she moved to play, there was nothing on her mind.

Well, nothing was perhaps an exaggeration.

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⏰ Last updated: Sep 07 ⏰

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