Vacant Hearts [UNDER CONSTRUCTION]

Chapter 1 | Anarchy

SONG FOR THE CHAPTER: Anarchy by Neon Hitch

      I loved partying, but the killer hangover I usually woke up with the next morning always left me questioning this notion. And to say that I had a mere hangover this morning was a serious understatement. My head was pounding and my stomach was roaring at me. Every time I inhaled, a sharp pain flared amongst my ribs. And the memory loss I usually woke up with...was it really worth it? I tried my hardest to remember any memories of the party I attended on Friday night, but my mind was completely blank. That was never a good sign.

The only thing I remembered was the lead up to the party, but that wasn't exactly helpful. I remembered spending an hour or so getting ready, making sure my winged eyeliner was practically identical on each eye and every curl on my head fell perfectly. Just as I finished, I was summoned by my friend after several impatient honks of the horn. We then drove to our other friend's house, and her older brother was our chauffeur since we knew we would all be intoxicated by the end of the night and in no condition to drive home without murdering at least a few people along the way.

After that, my whole night was a complete blank. It wasn't rare for me to get drunk, but it was rare for me to get so drunk that I didn't remember a thing.

My bedroom door swung open, and I heard footsteps pattering lightly across my floorboards. I was way too bleary-eyed to make out who had just entered my room, so I squeezed my eyes shut and rolled over onto my stomach. Big mistake. I groaned as a vicious wave of nausea crashed over me.

"Isa, Hudson needs to talk to you about the dinner party Mom and Dad are having next week," chirped the person who had entered my room. It took me a moment to register that it was my younger sister, Savannah. I felt the mattress lower a little when she sat down on the edge of my bed. The smell of food wafted into my room and invaded my nostrils, making my stomach churn.

"Get out of my room before I turn homicidal on you and whoever is cooking that food I can smell." The pillow pressed against my face caused my voice to be muffled. I could feel that my hair was plastered to my forehead and smelled suspiciously of oranges.

"I have no idea what 'homicidal' means but it sounds ominous, so okay," Savannah said, rising from my bed. Her presence vanished from beside me and I heard the sound of her footsteps as she crossed my room.

"How do you know what ominous means and not homicidal?" I said wearily, lifting my pounding head up from my pillow so that I could look at her. She was still dressed in her purple pajamas covered in penguins, and her dark hair was in two messy braids. "And you didn't really use ominous in the right context."

Savannah shrugged. "I don't. It just sounded like a cool word, and I wanted to use it." She grinned. Her grin fell and was replaced by a concerned frown. "You look terrible, by the way. Are you sick?"

"Something like that," I grumbled.

Savannah slipped out of my room and into the hallway, her hand clasping my doorframe. "Just make sure you go see Hudson soon. She's getting impatient."

"Yeah, yeah. And, Sav? Can you tell whoever is cooking that awful smelling food that I am going to skin them alive? Thanks."

"Oh, Spence told me you'd enjoy the smell of the food. I think he's just cooking some eggs, bacon, and toast," Savannah told me, her expression one of genuine innocence. I knew she had no part in my brother's cruel schemes.

At the mention of the food, I felt myself gag. I sprung up from my bed and sped into the bathroom, making it just in time to empty the contents of my stomach into the toilet bowl. The world tilted unnaturally, my head spinning like a whirlpool.