The next day, I was hopelessly browsing Twitter, hoping for a message from someone I don't think I need to name, when I started to notice quite a lot of pictures posted by my "friends." Each and every one of them, and all their friends. All these pictures were posted, and they were all from late the night before. By "night," I really mean morning. As in 2 a.m.
From what I gathered from the images, one of the football players had held a party the night before, and from the blurriness of the pictures, I'm assuming everyone had been totally wasted.
While I was completely relieved to have not have been there, it was then that I realized something: no one had invited me. Not one person. Everyone I knew had been there, and not a single person had asked if I wanted to go. Now, there are some parties where I simply can't expect to go, but there are some where even the most lonely people are welcome to join in the "fun." This party was the latter, and I didn't make the cut.
Man, that's rough.
I did my best to ignore the fact (and failed miserably). Soon enough, those awful thoughts were echoing around inside my head, screaming at me.
You can't even get yourself invited to some dumb party. Shows how much people care about you.
I let myself lean against the wall, my knees tucked against my chest. Shut up, I thought.
The thoughts didn't seem to care.
Even the lowest of the low get invited to parties like that. What does that make you?
I don't know, I thought.
Exactly. You're no one. No one gives a shit about you, and you know it.
I felt my hands start to shake. That can't be true....
It is, and you know it. Everyone is out there, living their lives, having fun. What are you doing? Nothing. Nothing that anyone would care about.
Please stop, I thought.
Why? It's not like you have friends who are waiting for you to come hang out.
And who's fault is that? I ask. Yours, Anxiety. Not mine.
You have anxiety for a reason, and it's your fault for being so unlikeable.
Screaming in anguish, I threw a pillow at the wall. It smacked against it with a dull and incredibly unsatisfying thud.
I fell onto the bed, curling into a fetal position and squeezing my eyes shut, waiting for the end.
~ ~ ~
That night, as I started to drift asleep, I told myself the same thing I told myself every night.
"Just make it through tomorrow," I whispered. The world faded into an inky darkness, and I faded with it.
YOU ARE READING
Separated by a Screen (And Several Hundred Miles)
Teen FictionHeather isn't much of a people person. She doesn't feel comfortable around anyone, and she doesn't really have a group of friends to rely on. She's all alone. Then she meets someone. Someone who likes the same things she does, someone who she doesn...
