The Malik Teenagers

Chapter 11: Influences

Letty's P.O.V

There was once a time in my life where I made bad choices. Growing up an orphan was dull, despite the two bright lights known as Vexi Alexandra and Kyra Zia. Nevertheless, I made bad choices, snuck out of the orphanage, attended parties and inhaled deadly drugs that, I'm sure, will affect me sometime in the future. I was a proper, rebellious twelvy.

When I entered the two-story house, crowded with teenagers and thumping music, I suddenly felt a surge of energy flow through my veins. The sudden, addictive crave for a drug, something between my lips, pumped through my body and made my head spin. I could smell the strong scent of cigarettes and marijuana that was almost visible in the air.

It was hot and sweat glistened the skin of almost every body in the lounge room. Girls danced against boys, boys watched girls with hungry eyes and no one cared about their age as they chugged down strong alcohol and smoked drugs that weren't legal at any age. I was very much aware of the fact that Dad would have a fit knowing I'm here but that it'd be hypercritical for him to say anything, then of course he'd persuade Mum to say something.

"Daddy's Little Princess is here" a slurred voice whispered against the shell of my ear. I could feel his hot breath brushing past my neck and the smell of beer filled my nostrils.

"Stop calling me that" I physically shook with anger.

He laughed, noticing my anger. "You need a drink. I'll get it for you"

He dashed off in the direction of the kitchen, I assumed. I watched him stumble and knock into a few people but it was difficult to avoid touching others when there were so many people in one household. Within minutes, Zac was back at my side thrusting a red, plastic cup towards me. The yellow liquid fizzed and I couldn't quiet identify what it was, or what alcohol was in it...maybe vodka.

"Trust me" Zac nods towards the cup in my hand. "I mixed it myself"

What he said didn't exactly easy my suspicion, but being the stupid, hopeless romantic teenager I am, I took a sip and then another.

***

When I was young, I imagined a prince. We'd fall in love instantly, love at first sight, and he'd sweep me off my feet, inviting me into his castle. We'd marry quickly, not wanting to waist any time, and we'd live happily ever after. In the mind of a seven year old, it was as simple as that. However, I grew up and things didn't go the way my seven-year-old self envisioned it.

It was the typical morning after. My head was pounding, my eyes glued shut afraid of the damage the light could do. My head spined, even with my eyes closed. I could literally smell the alcohol on my breath and seeping through my pours. I don't remember much but I knew I was in trouble just from the numbing taste on my tongue. Did I do drugs last night?

Reluctantly, I opened my eyes embracing the pain. At first it felt familiar, the white celling comforting me, however when my eyes trailed down to the wall. The walls were painted the reassuring lime green like my room. These walls were black with posters of punk-rock bands and female models, not the colourful graffiti with the word 'Believe' in the middle.

I screwed up my nose and squeezed my eyes shut, turning my head to the right. Opening one eye, I was met with a familiar sleeping face, but that didn't mean I was any less relieved. Zac slept soundlessly beside me, his naked arms grasping a pillow. He certainly wasn't the prince I imagined, nor was this the situation.

I felt the skin of my torso under the thin cotton sheets. Nothing covered my body other than the thin, white bed sheet. I threw my arm over my eyes, shutting them once more.