Generation Jungle

Chapter One

Chapter 1

Audrey Grace Batchedler

Absolutely nothing in the world could be more annoying than the vibrations of loud and obnoxious rap music pounding the walls from the inside out. At one in the morning. The night before you have a semester final in an AP Communications class. Yeah, this definitely tops that scale.

I sigh as another vulgar slang word is tossed around amongst the intense bass and screams of drunk teenagers who shouldn't even be in college. Not even two pillows over my head and earphones could block out the disgusting sounds of students drinking cheap beer and eating poorly made brownies infused with marijuana. Nothing new. I've been in college for all of 3 months and I can already confirm one thing: It's exactly like those lame pre-teen movies. Almost every single girl is here on their "Daddy's money" or because of some stupid football scholarship. And there are parties every single night. No matter what day of the week it was.

I, oddly enough, am here on a scholarship for my excellent attendance and outstanding grades in high school. My ambitions for my future impressed the acceptance board a ton, so I gladly accepted the scholarship. Sadly, that doesn't really matter to most people in Boston University. Besides the partying, and the smoking, schooling comes last in the grand scheme of things. Even though I couldn't be prouder of myself, for my own personal achievements, the others around me could not give one less shit about me. And that is honestly totally okay with me- I'm just here to get out and move on with my life.

The booming got silent suddenly as I heard, presumably a dorm officer, yelling at the intoxicated losers to go to fucking bed. Finally.

A loud chorus of groans and heavy footsteps from clunky high heels work their way down the hallways. I think I could even hear someone throwing up in a potted plant, which is not surprising at all. I feel so bad for the poor maintenance crew- every day they are cleaning up no-good pot and chunks of solidified beer. I know I'm definitely not used to seeing it. I would easily rather take an AP final every single day than have THAT job.

Doors were still being slammed and people were shouting their protests of being shut down. I rolled over onto my side so I was facing the dark room in its entirety. I watched the door, covered with a long mirror, waiting for it to open at any time. Despite the darkness, I could make out the shapes of the other bed, the bedside tables, and the rug on the floor. I fixed my eyes on the door, peering underneath it to see when the shadows would finally stop coming.

As if on cue, my (extremely drunk) roommate, Brittany, stumbled in, a red plastic cup in hand, noticeably filled to the brim with a sticky beer, spilling onto the rug I brought from home. I sighed, as she tugged in a sweaty frat boy by the collar of his unbuttoned polo shirt. Both of their hair was greasy and unkempt, as if they were rudely interrupted at the party next door. After I emitted another sigh, much louder,Brittany finally cast me an annoyed glance as she kissed the guy's neck furiously. I groaned as she tried pushing him onto the bed, but ended up spilling the stale beer on herself and her sheets.

"Literally, get out. I'm trying to sleep. Thanks." I said flatly, glaring at her as she sluggishly tossed the rest of her drink onto the rug. The cup ended up on floor as well, as the boy, who I now identified as Chuck Carlton, a football jock whose grades were probably as good as my fourteen year old sisters, was trying to unzip the skin tight dress that was already slipping down Brittany's back. Another gross, and unwanted image in my head. To carry with me. Forever.

"I'm serious Brittany. Get out." Immediately, her zebra print dress was flung onto my face. Typical.

"Y-You get ou-out bitch!" She howled, giggling into Chuck's ear. He laughed with her, which apparently turned her on more because she got ravenous with the kissing and eventually, started to take off her bra. Okay, that was my cue.