Chasing Butterflies- Ryden

✿ 8 ✿

--Ryan--

I hate it when fictional characters don't get their romantic happy endings.

They go through so much work, love, and pain, but in the end, it was all for nothing.

There was this book I read. The boy and the girl like each other, they date, they fight, they make-up, they leave, and then they find their way back to each other. But in the very end, oops, spoiler alert: they end up leaving each other for good, just clinging onto the memories they have of each other.

C'mon, author. They deserved a happy ending.

Another example: Romeo and Juliet. They love each other, their families hate each other, they go through it all. But you know what happens in the end? They both end up committing suicide. Tragic, I know.

And it practically tears me apart even though the characters are fake. The characters were special to me. And then they end up suffering. It makes me wish I could do something for them, but then again, they're all fake.

They're not real. And they never will be.

I sit in Dana's apartment. Dana is a 'friend' of mine. We share the same passions, and we've both gone through hard times. I mean, she struggles with her drugs, I struggle with my dad.

They're all connected in a way.

The only problem is that Dana is uptight. She's blunt and she's an attention whore. She thinks that her drug addiction is permanent, and that the world should revolve around her and help her because of it.

Well, fuck you, Dana. It never will.

Drug addiction, you can solve easily. Just go to rehab and get some self-control. Your dad dying, trying to commit suicide, having heart attacks, being abusive, and being an alcoholic. You can't solve that with ease. Its his mind. Its not anyone elses.

You can probably tell that I'm having a bad day.

"I'm hungry, I'm going to the kitchen," She gets up from the floor, "Wanna come?"

"No, I think I'll just stay here for a bit." I say, staring at her keyboard that lies right in front of me.

She shrugs and leaves. My fingers tickle the shiny black and white keys, playing different tunes, trying to trigger inspiration. I start playing a song I heard on the radio.

I sing the lyrics quietly, and then at normal voice level, the piano following along. The door opens, and Dana walks back in, the door closing behind her.

She sits on the floor, and she listens. Then she starts singing, too, and I stop. I stop singing and playing.

Can I not have one thing be about me?

She furrows her eyebrows at me, "Keep playing."

"No." I'm not dealing with anyone's shit today.

"Why not? Just keep playing." She demands.

"No, I'm not your servant." She rolls her eyes.

"So, what do you wanna do when you get out of highschool?" She asks, changing the topic.

"I'm gonna be in a band. Well, my friends and I already started it." I say, and her eyes brighten up.

"Can I be the lead singer?" Nope, no way in hell.

Dana is a pretty girl, but the drugs are changing that. Her voice? Fuck that. Her voice is already raspy and it sounds old. Plus, she sings off-key all the time.

"No, I'm afraid I already am." She laughs disbelievingly.

"Better get some choir lessons then." I scoff at her remark.