Living

Chapter 1

I threw my backpack onto the floor as I walked into my room and went straight to my closet. That's where my mini fridge was at full of my wonderful alcohol.

I could still hear my parents yelling at each other in the kitchen, which sucks because you would think being on the second floor of the house would help silence their loud mouths. I growled in anger and slammed the door to my mini fridge shut after grabbing a bottle of watermelon vodka. Going to my desk to turn on my music, I unscrewed the cap and took a long swig of it. This is what I had to do to keep from losing my sanity. Or what was left of it.

3 hours later and it was now 8 PM. My phone started to buzz so I reached over from my spot in the floor to the night stand. "Hello?" I took the last swig of my drink and leaned against my bed. "Lyla. What's up, chicka?" I smiled as my friend, Jake, came through the phone. "Hey Jake, I'm just sitting here and jamming out. What are you up too?"

"Oh boy. Come spend the night. Party is going on right now. You'll have fun." I got excited. "Booze?" I heard Jake chuckle. "Booze." I got up from my spot on the floor. "Be there in 5." I hung up and stumbled towards my closet to change. You'd think that I would have the stumbling a little more under control because I'm so used to drinking, but I proved that wrong as I kept landing into things as I changed. I even knocked down one of my shelves. "I'll fix it later."

As I stumbled my way to Jake's house, which was only a block away, I focused on which foot was going where. Left. Right. Left. Right. Left. I was now wearing a blood red dress and a black leather jacket. I was glad that I had decided to wear red all stars instead of high heels. I wouldn't have made it out of my room.

I smiled in triumph as I finally made it to Jake's house. There were a lot of people. Jake was standing just outside. I walked up to him and smiled. "Jake! Hey buddy!" I hugged him and he hugged me back tightly. "Seems like you started to party without even knowing about it." He joked. I just rolled me eyes. "There's always a party when I'm around."

"So. You promised me booze. So where's it at?" He shook his head and chuckled. "Alright. Come on, drunkie." We walked, or I stumbled, into the kitchen where a bar had been set up. I nearly squealed in excitement. After pouring a red glass full with a mixture of alcohol, I walked to the living room where people were dancing.

The party went on until 3 AM. After everyone had left, Jake decided that he would wait until the next day to clean up. He had to help me up to the guest room because I could barely walk. Too drunk and tired to change, I plopped down onto the bed and instantly fell asleep.

The next morning, I woke up and regretted that 7 'last' drinks I had last night. But it was nothing I wasn't used to. I got up and went to the dresser that was in the room and grabbed the basketball short and t-shirt Jake had laid out for me the night before. After taking a quick shower and brushing my teeth (because morning breath is gross) I changed and went down stairs.

Jake was sitting at the table in the kitchen and munching on toast. "Morning sleeping beauty." I said morning back and grabbed a piece of toast off his plate and sat down. After our breakfast and a few headache pills, we set out on cleaning the house.

Sighing in comfort, I looked at the tv. It had taken us 4 hours to clean the whole house. Now it was finally over. "Why the hell did you throw a party? That was way to much work." Jake chuckled. "Because it was Friday and I wanted to show the new guys that are 3 houses down that I was the badass on the street." I looked at him in confusion. "What new guys?" He looked at me. "You must have been really shit faced last night when you were walking here." I nodded, "Uh duh. Parents were fighting as always. But anyways. When did they start moving in?" Jake shrugged as he was searching the channels for something to watch. "I guess 2 days ago." How had I not noticed that? Oh well, I guess.

I hated the thought of having to go home. I was back in my red dress and leather jacket and walking home from Jake's. It was starting to get dark but that didn't bother me. What bothered me was if my parents had even noticed I had been gone all day. When they had first began to fight when I was 10, I had just thought it was a phase. When I was 13, I couldn't help but get pissed off at them every time they fought. When I was 14 I began to drink. And I don't mean the occasional sip here and there. I would drink a half a bottle every day.

Jake, being 18 when I was 14, would sneak me alcohol from his parents. We had met at a party. The first thing he ever said to me was, "You're like 12. What the hell are you doing at a high school party?" Of course that pissed me off but I got over it when I saw he was joking. We've been friends ever since.

I had been so lost in my thoughts that I hadn't even noticed that I was by the house that the new people were moving into. I looked at the house and instantly regretted it. There, standing on the lawn, were 3 guys unloading a truck. One looked over at me and I shivered. Turning back into the direction of my house, I literally ran.

Once I was in my house, I changed, turned my music on high (my parents weren't home for once, thank the fudge king), and grabbed a bottle of alcohol. I had a bad feeling about those new guys. And it scared the crap out of me. Might as well just sit back and see what happens. I unscrewed the cap and took a long swig. As I did so, I looked at the letters on my wall. "Live life to the fullest. Because tomorrow you might be dead." Gruesome, I know. But it's what keeps me going. Well that and the alcohol. Guess this is as appropriate time as ever to say this. "Yolo!" (Yea, never saying that again....)

This chapter was more of a starter. And I'm sorry it's not more interesting. And it's super dull I know. But I'm trying to experiment with new stories. This story is mainly just for me and for fun. I know I said I wouldn't write anymore stories but I just couldn't help myself. If you don't like it then fine. Don't read it. If you like it. Even better. What I'm just saying is, I've given up on trying to get reads or votes or comments. And if that offends anyone then I'm sorry. I've just figured it out by now that I'm not a good writer. But anyways. Enjoy Lyla's topsy-turvy life. Because it's about to get really dizzy. (Yea. That sucked. I know)
-S