Drowning

Chapter 4; Elena

After getting home around 7:30, I made myself some tea and than watched a few movies. The breakfast club and then clueless. I love things from the 80's and 90's. Music. Style. Movies. The feel of the imagery with people looking happy, and dancing in the print off pictures that were taken. That's where I would live if I could go back in time. That time period. But I don't see my self living after 17. And with that being said I only have a few years left to do what ever the fuck I can. Because I don't want to grow old. It's like we're all flowers in a pool. We could be placed in one part at the same time at first, but will eventually drift apart. Some flowers die before others; they sink to the bottom like there drowning. And that's what it looks like; what it feels like happens. We all just die. We all just drown in events and numbers. And I don't want to stick around to see the people I care about die in front of me, not be able to do anything for themselves after a certain age hits. I just don't want to see that happen. It's not worth it. But I mean I'm not the only one who thinks that. I fall asleep with my laptop open, playing the ending song to the breakfast club as my mind stops thinking and sinks down.

The next morning I get a text from Elena that wakes me up.  "Hey Trinity, were we gonna do some stuff today? I'll bring the cigarettes, we can sit on your roof and talk about what we think will happen to our peers" she texts. I start to type back, " hey, sounds great, I think I still have one of my few lighters that haven't blown up from being used so many times, heh. See you around 11 then?" Sent at 9:43, I have about an hour and 15 minutes. I get up, wash my face. The face of yesterday, sleeping with my makeup on by accident. Still decent though. Surprising. I Take a shower and dry my hair. Fixing my fringe and putting my makeup on. Heh, emo. so, so, so god damn emo.  I throw on some ripped jeans and a white T-shirt that says "peace out" with a cool flower pattern on it. When I go back to my bed, I see that she's texted back "okay dude, I'll see you soon XD" she says. I pick up the shirts and random pairs of skinny jeans laying around my floor. I make my bed and turn my Spotify on.  I got everything done just in time because as I'm plugging in my laptop so the music doesn't die while we're doing something I look out side to see her penny boarding down the street. I open my window and look at the clouds taking over the field like they did yesterday. I yell out the window " HEY, JUST LET YOUR SELF IN DUDE". "YEAH YEAH" she says, she comes over enough not to even need to be told to come inside, and about 30 seconds later she bursts through my door yelling "what's up doll face?!", "thats funny" I say. She reaches In her leather backpack with gold studs on the part that flips up. She pulls out a notebook we've kept our secrets and thoughts and sad ass poems in since august. That's when we met, august of 2012. About 4 years ago. And we met At a 15 day rehabilitation camp in Missouri. It sucked, but she was the only good thing that came out of that experience. She pulls out the pens we took from office max a few months back. I love her, she's awesome. She's my best friend. And My god we've done everything together. Everything. I try to go to her with everything and she comes to me with everything too. She pulls out a pack of cigarettes and a match box, " I couldn't find my lighter" she says, After opening the new box and pulling two out, handing me one between her twisted fingers.

" i forgot to look"i say laughing. I take it, grab a match and sit on the floor, putting my back against the wall and lighting it up and throwing the burnt out match into a empty pop can. I stick the little piece of paper and nicotine between my teeth and inhale, it feels like I'm taking in a cloud; and It's relaxing. She lights hers up  and I rest my head against the wall and close my eyes while I hear her sit next to me, she knows something's up, but it's not that big of a deal. "Hey" I say, "have you ever thought about why people smoke? Or do drugs?". I open one eye to see her in her own world smiling when I ask, "I don't know, haven't really thought about it, why?" She says with a small laugh, "I don't know, I just thought of this idea a few days ago as to why we all do it". "Oh? And what might that be?" She says. " well... I just feel like maybe we do it because we can't blow smoke out of our lips on our own. We can't get to that level by ourselves, we can't just hit a button and bam, we're on fucking cloud 9 while the room is moving while we're standing still". "Dude" she starts saying, "that makes total sense, and it might be the weed I smoked earlier talking but hey!" She starts hysterically laughing and I smile and roll my eyes. She's obviously on a lot more than just weed right now. We start laughing together, ash getting everywhere.

After awhile we get bored from just sitting around and She gets up and grabs our art box, she knows where everything I have is. well.. mostly everything.  inside is a hell of a lot of  Canvasses, stencils, lots of paint, acrylics, paint brushes, 2 mocks, pencils and more, half of which was stolen. Elena's one to be sneaky but also has gotten caught shop lifting before,  but so have I. But not as much I guess you could say. I pull out a canvass and give her a mock to put on. We may look and live like hipsters but we don't risk getting paint on band shirts that we've had for years, to precious of a memory to go and accidentally vandalized. We put paints all over a little plate and start mixing them all over. We don't have to even talk about what we're going to paint together. It just happens, and she's really good at art in general. Realistic sketches of people or hands holding onto something that they can't quite get a good grasp on. Our empty paper turns into a shaded person touching a wall and leaving flowers where ever they touches. Elena's eyes light up when she's making art. That and when she's buzzed. When it's done, I put it outside of my window so it dries. "Hopefully this one won't blow off the roof" I say laughing, she rolls he her eyes and smiles sarcastically. "hey that was ONE time asshole" she says giggling at our past drying failures.

We grab another cigarette and light it up. She gets up and goes into her bag to grab two pencils with needles held on the eraser side with string. And then proceeds to grab a little bottle and to pop bottle caps.  Putting the black ink in a cap and handing me a pencil. A few days earlier we had decided to do another stick N' poke. And we had decided to do an A on the inside of our arms, a few inches above the elbow. We did our last few ones together too, I have 7 And she has 9, I think.. we do them on each other when it's not in front of us and easy to reach. We grab a blue pen, a washcloth and start tracing the A's on each other. I lay down and listen to the music play while she starts poking through the layers of skin. It doesn't hurt that much. And I know other people in our school don't like the idea of "tattoos"  until after 18, but I'd rather have something put on me that was important to me at the time and hope not to ever forget about it, than rather forget about it after I'm legally able to get it done. About an hour and a half of pokes, a few dumb conversations and music; we're done with both, they look nice, easy to hide, not that it matters. We have a long conversation a bit later on my roof, and it gets so late she ends up just sleeping over. We order pizza and stay up talking until we can't sit up anymore. She's comforting. She doesn't have to say anything, just her presence  helps my anxiety. And there's only one other person that does that.. the love of my life.. ally. God I love her. So much, but I get so paranoid about if I've done something wrong. Or if she's okay. And it terrifies me. But when I know we're okay, and she's okay, I'm okay. It's amazing when I'm able to lay side by side her. Staring into her starry eyes. And fidgeting with a necklace she wears that gives me happiness when I find it twisted around my fingers...