Smile Part 1

Charlotte

Seriously a fucking fire ball. What the hell have I gotten into, I just. I just wanted a little company, it gets lonely in a big house and monthly parties don't always fill the void.

I just got to sit a little further away I guess. Rick's just rocked up and he's punching holes in trees so I guess the whole being careful thing got ignored. Like most the things I say. 

My cigarette burns the edge of my lips as I take one last draw from what's left and toss it away. I don't care if they're not good for me. Sometimes a conversation with a smoke can be better than any possible one with a person. It's not my fault the worlds so fucked. 

Maybe I should just walk home. The present company is just distraction. Distraction from my misery. From being alone.

When I turn back to the group they're all laughing with one another. Rick and Max testing each other to see what heavy items they can lift. Peter and Zoey watching them like excited fans.

"Hey." I hear Clare's soft voice as she approaches and sits next to me. "Really sorry about the fireball. It was an accident I swear."

"You don't gotta be sorry it's fine." I chuckle. I grab my bag and pull out one of my joints. "You smoke?" I ask

"Ah no I'm good thanks." Clare nervously replies.

"Suit yourself."

"So how'd you meet everyone here?" Clare asks perking up a conversation.

I sigh thinking as I look around the group, lighting and taking a toke from my joint. "Max and I were in the same primary. His parents moved when I changed foster. Was lucky I guess, but his parents always hated him being around me, thought we were dating or causing chaos. Rick and I just smoke together sometimes. As for the others I met them same time as you. All dragged together cause of this stupid class, and now these stupid powers."

"You said fosters before? You're?"

"Adopted? Yeah. A bunch of different times at an older age so it hasn't fully counted."

"I'm sorry to hear."

"Don't be. I hate the sob story's. My current parents are great. They're rich and give me mostly independence. I just barely see them."

"Well as long as your happy."

Happy. Huh, I hadn't really thought about it. Was I happy. I never really stopped to think it.

"I'm the happiest person alive." I snark as I take another drag.

"HELP!" All of us turn around quickly as we hear River scream for help. When we turn to look at her the sight we see is unbelievable. River is stuck inside a old rusty couch. Like her body has magically just passed through the solid couch then stopped halfway.

"OH MY GOD SHES PHASING AWESOME!" Peter shouts.

"NOT AWESOME HELP ME OUT!" River shouts. Everyone jumps up and rushs over to her.

"Alright I got this." Max pushes through the group and grabs River by the hand. "On the count of three I'm gonna pull you out. One, two, three." Max grabs Rivers hand and pulls but just lifts the couch up with her when he does.

River starts to panick as her breath begins to speed up.

"Hey hey, don't stress you got in so you can get out." Peter says leaning down to her. "Just focus really hard maybe. Think about the couch like it's not even there. Just erase it from your thoughts."

"Shut up Peter!" River shouts annoyed.

"Just listen to him this time!" I shout stepping forward.

"OK, OK." River takes a deep breath as Peter and Max each grab one of her arms. She takes a deep breath and with one big pull is suddenly pulled out of the couch.

"Woooo" "Yay" "Fuck yes"

Most everyone starts to celebrate as Rivers freed.

"I'm fucking going home!" River shouts as the celebration stops.

There's a moment of silence.

"I, I can take you again, I got to get home before my dads mad." Rick breaks the silence.

"Fine let's go." River says.

"Can I come?" Clare asks as she follows along with the two of them.

"Well I ain't no chicken so I'm still practising. You staying to yeah Peter." Max says with an angry tone.

"Uh. Yeah." Peter nervously croaks.

"I'll stay. Need the lift." Zoey adds.

"Well good luck power rangers. I'm walking home." I take the last toke of my joint and turn to leave.

Finally walking home. Alone. Once again, walking down the foggy country road bends, listening to the soft music of Dominic fike. Why can't life be more simple. The movies and books in the world never get the loneliness of just existing right.

Fuck. I stop walking, looking down to the ground and taking a deep breath. The airs humid but my breath is still cold. There's so much going on right now. I can't think about that though. I can't stress.

I need a smoke. I'm out, there should be a gas station down this road though right. No, I can't spend the money, ah fuck it yes I can.

I walk for another fifteen minutes maybe. Then I see the gas station just on the edge of town. I probably could have waited. A lift would have been way faster. Oh well.

I walk through the foggy car park. Thick forests surround the whole area. I'm pretty sure the town used to be for logging a teacher said. You can tell based on the lines of tall tress planted perfectly. Now they just stand here untouched from a time before. This towns just for people to live there sad lives out now far from the rest of the world.

I step into the gas station and walk straight up to the counter. "Can I just get a 20 pack of cigs plz."

The cashier doesn't share any words as he turns around with a depressed look. "Red or blues." He asks as he rolls his eyes and tilts his head back around

"Reds please."

"$34.95"

"Thanks."

I take the packet and step outside. Walking a couple steps to the side and grabbing a cigarette out right away. I lean against the wall and light it feeling my stress start to melt away.

There's 2 cars at the station. A older man filling his car up and the other one empty. It's an old car though nice looking old boxy 80s style. Orange with a thin white line down the side.

"Have we met before young lass." A man asks. I turn to my right as I hear his voice. He's standing leaning up against the same wall about three feet away. His got long black hair all the way down to his chest, and a mid length beard. His style just shouts the 80s, but straight from the first look this guy seems creepy. Great.

"Nope, can't say I've ever met one of the mansons." I snark back looking forward trying not to acknowledge him much.

"Ha, funny joke, I do look a bit like him. It's ironic my name is Charles as well. I don't mean to frighten it's just you look very familiar is all."

"Yeah I look like the other blondies you've kidnapped?"

He seems drawn back finally at the comment. "Well I can see my presence isn't welcome to you. Apologies for giving the wrong impression. Have a nice day ma'am."

"Uh huh." Maybe it was rude. But who just does that.

The man, or Charles, steps away with almost a skip. Joyously waving his arms as he gets back in his car and drives off. Fuck what a creep.

I look down to my smoke that's almost finished. I take a deep breath and then another to finish it as I smash my foot down on it to put it out. I guess now i just gotta go home.