Sick Little Games (Zack Merrick)

• Late Night Thoughts •

{ t w e n t y f i v e }

"How's your leg?" I asked Jack quietly, still knowing that we're in hearing distance of the group we just left.

"How high are you right now?" He spat back at me, taking a few large paces to walk in front of me, showing that he's obviously not happy with me right now.

"Jack-" I started quietly, trying to calm him down.

"No, Justice. What the fuck, okay?! This," he gestured to the group behind us who, no doubt, are probably only silent because they're straining to hear our conversation from that far away. "Is pathetic."

"What?" I asked him, genuinely confused.

"Getting high. Doing, whatever the fuck it is that you're doing, with one of them. This entire situation." He pointed to the group, looking straight back at Zack.

The rest of them turned away when he turned around to pretend they weren't listening.

"Can we have this conversation in the house?" I asked him quietly, glancing at the group for a second.

"Good idea sis!" He spat the word at me ironically but it was quiet. The group wouldn't have been able to hear that. "Then our parents can listen! Maybe they'll send you back to a fucking private school miles away!" I took a few steps back from him as he got into my face, obviously trying to keep down his anger when his eyes softened and his breathing picked up more erratically.

"Jack-" I started more quietly, watching him shake his head as soon as I opened my mouth.

"If you keep doing this shit you're going to end up right where your dad is." So many emotions hit me in that moment. I didn't even think weed was that bad, but he seems to have a big thing against it.

But to bring my dad into the conversation? How does he even know about my dad? Did my mom tell him? Bassam?

He didn't recoil from the mistake like I thought he would, he just kept his angry face on, still staring me down.

"Come home when you're sober. They're worried." I knew he meant our parents and it occurred to me that he came out looking for me. I guess my phone is off or something. I probably have so many missed calls from my mom. We were far enough away from the group now that I know they still don't know we're related, they can't even hear us now.

Jack rushed off ahead of me, and my feet firmly stayed glued to the sand until I had the energy to slowly follow him back to the house.

*

I can't sleep. I carried on staring at the boring white ceiling above me, and I wish I could say that I'm drifting in and out of sleep but I'm just not.

I got home above 20 minutes after Jack tonight. Bassam was already in bed but my mom was awake, sitting on the sofa. The moment she saw me, probably still looking as fucked as I feel, a small tear travelled down her face and she shook her head before brushing past me and going upstairs.

That was hours ago.

I can't believe how much I've messed everything up. I mean, I was arrested a few nights ago and today I got high. I wouldn't have even dreamt of that back where we used to live.

Was I even living there though?

Because I've never felt so alive. I feel like I'm finally living my life. I feel like these are the mistakes all teenagers need to make to mould themselves into who they want to be. I can't always be perfect, and I don't to be. I want to screw up because that's what normal teenagers do.

Before we moved I was focused on studies and music. That was it; I didn't have friends, I didn't go out, I didn't make stupid mistakes. But I wanted to.

I'm sick of being the shy girl. For once, I just want to live my life as a normal fucked up teenager.

With that in mind, I made another huge mistake of the past 24 hours, getting dressed into the warmest closed I could find and sneaking out of my house and into the darkness of the night.

*

There's something creepy about being on the beach when everything is pitch black. When you're on holiday the beach it lit up in the night to give the air a more 'romantic' feel but when it's a cold season and you live near the beach you see the harsh reality of it.

There's just something wrong about it, about the way the wind literally blows you off your feet from it's force, or the way the sand is freezing instead of burning your toes as you walk across it. It's just weird.

Being in pitch black and feeling sand between your feet is a strange feeling. My shoes are long forgotten. I left them almost as soon as I got onto the beach, deciding that loosing a pair of flip flops won't do me any harm.

I felt a rock stub my toe and I stopped over it, my hands automatically going in front of me and curling around the grains of same that cushioned my fall. I decided just to sit there, listening to the waves. I picked up the rock I fell over (more like a pebble) and twisted it through my fingers, dripping it from one hand into the other.

That's what I did until the sun came up, and watching the sunrise from the sea is one of the most beautiful things I've ever seen.