4 | suck my o-positive ass

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4 | suck my o-positive ass

Song: Lolly by Maejor Ali ft. Juicy J & Justin Bieber

Depicted Above: Tyler Posey as Caleb Dalton

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Reaching home, the first thing I did was crash on the couch. Boy was Angela right. I really needed a fucking break. It was the beginning of November, and I was already counting down the days 'til graduation. Senioritis was real. And the strain that I had? Well, it was safe to say that it was worse than my previous encounters with junioritis, sophomoritis, and even freshmanitis.

Lazing around on the couch, I, mindlessly, went through all my apps.

Mindless? Because even after I opened up my messages and Kik and saw no one had actually texted me, I still kept closing and opening them back up hoping someone had actually texted me within the .5 second time period of not checking the app.

After doing this on repeat, senselessly, for some time, I proceeded to the refrigerator—my next victim. I opened it up and immediately closed it seeing nothing was there. I Then headed to the pantry as well. The latter left me in the same amount of sadness as the former had done, yet I still opened the fridge again hoping something magically would show up, or that I hadn't noticed something remarkably delicious sitting on the shelf and would now suddenly notice it.

Verdict? When it came to food, my senses were sharp and heightened. If I hadn't caught food on my first round of scavenging, there was no food. Period.

Disheartened and upset at myself for not keeping up with groceries, I settled on some pizza and placed my order online. I was done driving for today and couldn't be bothered to go out of my way to pick it up, so I sat there waiting for the delivery guy. AKA bae. AKA my savior. AKA Oscar.

I quickly pulled out my phone realizing that I had forgot to send my usual Snapchat streaks. Opening the app, I was relieved when I saw hourglass emojis by most of my contacts and that I hadn't lost any of them. My friends would have my ass and quite possibly also my head on a stick if I broke them. Sending a picture of my wall, I checked off everyone I was streaking with and sent my mass streak in the nick of time.

After five attempts at trying to pull myself out of the couch and be productive, the sixth time did the trick. Grabbing a mini speaker, I hooked it up to Bluetooth connection with my Spotify playlist and blasted music. Grabbing a broom, I started my work on the hardwood floors.

My house wasn't too large, but I was the only one who actually resided here, so it was always quite comfortable, cozy, and spacious. Aunt K insisted that at least if I couldn't stay with her then she'd buy me a place of my own. My house was a ten minute drive from school and located conveniently near the park in my neighborhood. Aunt K took care of all legal and financial issues, but living on my own was still quite taxing.

I was, however, better off than being near my deadbeat parents.

After I turned seventeen, I begged my aunt to let me stay by myself. Her job caused her to fly all around the world and as much as she tried to adjust around me, her job didn't allow for much time home—with me.

I was thankful for all my aunt did to provide for me, but I wasn't going to get in the way of her career. I was being a burden. That's something I never ever wanted to be. I didn't want to be a burden. Ever. The last thing I wanted to be was another hardship in the way of someone's pursuit of happiness.

After hounding and finally convincing my aunt, she spent her own money as well as some of my savings my parents left in an account for me to pay off the house, so I could live by myself. She refused to use much of my savings as she wanted me to use it for other things like tuition. I scoffed. My parents thought shoving me with a bank account with however many digits could pacify me.

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