Lost

alias

   Alias, practically meaning you live a secret life, or you call yourself something that you really aren't.
   I live a lie. I know it too. I also plan to keep this life up for as  long as I possibly can.
   To my dad im a good daughter, smart, better than my brother, and more so a person. But he's terrified I'll try to end my life again so he tip toes around me now.
     My mother, I'm a good for nothing, try hard. She believes I live a secret life and I've never told her she's wrong but I've never told her she right. She also says my entire life is one big cry out for the pity she won't give me.
    I never once fucking asked for her pity.
   To my brother, I'm the amazing  sister who was better than him. The girl who's tried weed once and never dated anyone. A good girl.
   And for them I'll keep that life up.
They won't know about the times I know of.
   All the stories only the people that were there would know.
   My dad loves me and I love him back, so when he hugs me I slightly hate myself.
   My mom hates me, and I can't help but hate her too she's makes me hate myself, and I don't like it.
    Everything's complicated especially when living a life that is and isn't yours.
    I can't really tell which is which but currently I prefer the one where I'm having fun doing all the things I said id never do.
   That's why I'm behind my school, with a guy named Alexander smoking a cigarette. From the pack he gave me mind you.
    Turns out he's 17 supposed to be a Junior, but he got held back in 8th? Grade.
    So he's in quite a few of my classes. The ones were currently ditching thanks to my dear ol "dad" Josiah aka Jose the Gardener.
    My cigarette goes dead and I smash the last of the burning ashes into the bottom of my shoe.
   He tosses his out into the parking lot. I run up and smash it.
  
    "Why'd you do that?", He asks and I look down.
 
     "I have to compulsive disorder shit, and well I can't not step on just smoked cigarettes or it'll make me eh"  I try explaining but as usual I feel super dumb.
 
   "Alright" he says and I sit down next to him again. He lights another, and then throws it in the street. I frown, get up, and go step on it quickly turning around.

   "I don't like being made a jok-" I'm surprised when I turn around to find him behind me. No only that but now his mouth laced with the taste of my favorite poison was on mine. And damn he knew how to kiss.
     I havent been kissed in so long. The feelings all come back to me and suddenly all I want is his lips to never leave mine.
    He picks me up, and I wrap my legs around him. He pushed me against the wall of the history building, and things start to get intense when I hear it.
    
   "Run" I say picking up my bag, and taking off. I can't stop laughing as I run onto the trail, I hear him behind me, but not only that.
       I can hear campus security following behind. I feel the anxiety, and I keep running. It's amazing and horrible.
    I throw my bag over a cement wall, and climb over. Harder than climbing over a chain link fence I knew those fat campus cops couldn't get over.
   
   "Hey Cece help me up!" I hear him calling. His bag get thrown over and I pull myself up learning half way off the cement wall.

   "Hurry up take my hand" he takes in and my arm immediately feels like shit. He eventually pulls himself up, and over. And we both sit there panting.

    "Holy shit." He says and starts laughing. And it hits me. I feel it.
    The panic attack. They don't happen as often anymore but they do and i hate it when it happens and especially when people are around.
     I start crying, not normal sad tears falling down my face. The me screaming, and grabbing at my hair.
 
    "Holy shit whats going on Cece?" He puts one arm on my shoulder and his other hand placed on my face.
    In a fit of panic I push him off. I wanted the comfort but I can't take it.
 
   "I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry." He takes his hand once more and places it on my face.

  "Look at me Cece it's okay." And I just sit there crying. I learn forward, and hug him with my weak arms.

   "Get my Xanax from my bag please. It's in the mint container." I whisper, and he nods his head letting me sit back against the wall drying my face.

    "Xanax huh? I'm guessing by the mint container it's not prescription."
I nod my head this time, and he hands me one bar. I take it dry.

   "It should be, but we don't have insurance, and my dad doesn't believe in mental illness he'd see it as a weakness so I self medicate."

  "It's okay I won't judge. Sometimes I self medicate." And I laugh.

  "I know so many people who use weed it's practically candy" I start laughing as my breath starts coming back to my lungs.

  "No no not weed." I look over.

  "Well what then?" I wait a minute, as he reaches into his pocket, and pulls out a small bag full of white powder.

   "Only the best for this loser." He looks down at the bag the same look a starving child would look at a plate of food.

  "Crack?" I'm a little taken back. I've seen the shit. I snorted coke a couple times at some parties, but other than that I didn't touch it.

   "You guessed it." He opens the bag, and pts a small hill of powder on the skin between his index and thumb. And snorts it.
     Then the bag is passed to me. I make a smaller hill than his, and intake this newer feeling.

One more hell to love, and hate.