t w e n t y - o n e

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Jack ;

   When I opened my door, and checked the house for Jack, he was gone. I didn't think it would upset him that much, it was just a letter. In fact he we being an ass about it, sure I hid it, but he should be thanking me.

   I soon realized what I was thinking, and wondered why I would call Johnson an ass. I'm the ass, and he's my best friend. I pushed away those mean thoughts, and left the house.

   Madison needed back cushions, as if, what in the hell did she need them for?  What exactly are back cushions, can't she sit on the couch?

   I took my car to the store, and searched around the store, but it seemed they didn't even exist. To make things worse girls were taking pictures of me, and adults gave me glares.

   I finally went up to a worker, and tapped her shoulder. When she turned around, I saw her her name tag: Tammy. She looked about seventeen with long brown hair, and she wore a blue Walmart vest. Her eyes widened when she recognized me, but then she crossed her arms.

   "It's you," she hissed, "you put that girl in a mental hospital, how could you?!"

   "Look, Tammy," I said, "I'm just looking for back cushions."

   Her eyebrows raised in shock, and confusion. I would probably do the same thing in her situation. What would he be needing back cushions for is what I would think.

   "I got your back cushions," she snapped, and kneed me in the groin.

   My hands quickly held my package, and I fell on my knees staring at Tammy as she sashayed away from me. I closed my eyes in pain, and let it sink in. When I was ready to get up, I saw people with their cell phones on me, probably recording.

   I wish I never met Isobel, or dated Madison. Both girls were making my life hell, yet I was partially to blame.

   Now my biggest problem was finding some damn back cushions. To hell with Walmart.

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published: july 14, 2015 - 3:36pm
edited: june 13, 2017 - 11:06pm

Sorry that was v short and might've been uninteresting but Isobel's POV should excite you with her mystery visitor (:

𝙗𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙠𝙙𝙤𝙬𝙣, jack gilinsky  ✓Where stories live. Discover now