The Side effects of Fangirling

Little something

You all know I like to write. Right? Well, here's a taste!

Styx
Chapter one

I sighed, twirling the cigarette in my fingers. I didn't smoke. Not much, anyway.  I just marvelled at the fact that a small tube filled with tobacco could kill you so easily.

It was August. The sun was going down. It was about to get cold. Really cold.

I straightened my jacket, slipping the cigarette back into it's familiar red and gold packaging. Some of the first stars were coming out. My mind fled to the leather jacket covering my arms. Surprisingly, it hadn't been damaged despite the extreme heat and cold it'd been held subject to.

The walk home was chilly. It had been ever since they got angry.

At first, people fled to the conclusions of global warming. Then, as things got worse, some went to aliens, some went to God. They were close.

"Mom, I home! If you care you good for nothing. . ." I called, muttering the last part to myself.

"Abby?" She called from her bedroom. I sighed, making my way down the dark hallway where most of our stuff sat.  Soon I found my self in the dark hell hole my mother referred to as a bedroom.

"I got you a donut." I tossed the Dunkin Donuts bag at her, and she opened it to pull out a strawberry frosted donut.

"You shouldn't have wasted money on this." I shrugged. "Would you please open the shades?" I tugged at the curtains. The the fading light revealed my mother's pristine bedroom. Dust coated everything that hadn't been touched since I was a little girl.

"Your hair." My mother gasped, walking over to me.

"Yeah?"

"When did you dye it?" She grabbed the black hair in her hand. She had known that I cut it to my shoulders, but not this.

"A while ago."

"When?" Once you snapped I Wanted to scream, but bit my tongue.

"Like I said, a while ago." I walked out, leaving her dumbfounded. "I'll be in my room!" I walked up the stairs to what was left of my room.

I can't remember anything before that. Not specifically, any way. I remember brief scenes from my childhood, more like family videos of my father. When my mother was happy.

I suppose, beneath all the dirt and hair dye, I kind of looked like her. Blonde hair, green eyes, red lips.

I also remember bits from when they first got upset. Hannah screamed. The wave came. She was gone.

So was I.

Did you like that? If so, I might continue...