most likely goodies ; an update book

writing

Escape — reality that is.

Social situations had never really stuck; they seemed to be another light feather in the spectrum of things.

Everyday was the same — I woke up, did my morning routine, headed out somewhere, came back, then went to sleep. Routinely, it was all routine — almost like a ticking clock that never stopped.

Twelve to twelve, twelve to twelve, twelve to twelve — a constant repeat.

Yet routines could always be broken; someone could stop the clock whenever they'd please to insert something that wouldn't be permanent. It would be something temporary, such as fear.

But sometimes fear lingers.

Sometimes fear is permanent.

"The afterparty is in a couple of minutes," she smiled towards me with excitement as she signaled for me to hurry up. "Are you ready?"

I gave a slight nod, excited for it myself. Our competitive events had ended today; now it was the after party. Awards would be handed out tomorrow, March 24th. I would hope we would get first place gold.

"Do you think I should wear this choker and be edgy like you?" She snickered to me while touching the black velvet on her neck. I couldn't help but give a slight laugh.

"It's whatever you want," I smiled. "You're wearing all black, anyway."

"I'm not gonna wear it. It's too loose, anyway," she rolled her eyes as she unlocked the chain and placed it back down onto the bathroom sink. She looked into the mirror, brushing her long, black silky hair.

Sometimes I wished I had hair like that.

"Let's go!" My other roommate shouted excitedly. She stood near us.

"I'm not use to seeing you wear all black," I stated as I put on my ID. They had spelled my name wrong on it.

"The others are waiting for us. We should go to karaoke and the DJ first," she exited the room swiftly. I followed behind.

We took pictures.

All eleven of us — standing awkwardly in the hallway, or sometimes in front of the elevators. Our teacher would smile at us while the poses became stranger as the pictures multiplied. They stopped once the elevator next to us had dinged, signaling for us to go to the after party.

Downstairs in the lobby it was crowded, almost to the point where it was suffocating. I kept my earbuds in one pocket, my phone in the other.

More pictures of our matching shirts.

We led ourselves into the meeting area. Once they were workshops, now they were filled to the brim, buzzing with people from the same organization. I stared at my phone for a brief moment, seeing that my parents had called me. I put my phone on silent and looked back up.

"We should play escape the table as a team," he suggested while pointing to the signup sheets.

"There can be only five of us, though," she proclaimed.

From eleven dwindled down to two. They had their cliques, and quite frankly me and this girl didn't. The other girl decided to join them at escape the table. I slugged behind, eventually catching on and wanting to join them.

The slots were now full. They began arguing about the times and rearranging it so that we could be in it; so that I could be in it. We settled for 10:25 p.m.

They had spelled my name right on the signup sheet.

"Why don't we watch the movie in the terrace room? I heard the movie was Sing," one of the boys exclaimed.