The Phoenices Volume 1 - Expired

Chapter 4 - Marissa

I climbed out of bed, my hand coming down on my alarm clock as soon as it started beeping. My toes wiggled on the soft carpet, trying to wake them up from the restful slumber of the night before. I gently began to unbutton my flannel pajama top, searching for a cute top to wear to school. Reaching into my closet, I pull out a lilac-gray form fitting top, and slide it on, seeing if the shoulder cut outs work with my hair today. I pull out a dark blue pair of skinny jeans, sliding them over my waist and tucking in the bottom of my shirt. I turn to look at the organized shoe rack that was hanging on the far wall. I scanned the rows, searching for a specific pair that would make my outfit. "Ah, there you are," I quietly said, grabbing the lilac-gray velvet booties from their hanger. After slipping on the heels and tying them, I head into my connected bathroom and turn the vanity lights on. I check the time on my phone, 5:30 AM, and then open the daily makeup app that I had downloaded before school started.

"November 1st, 2017," I muttered, scrolling through the calendar to find what was in style today, and what would go best with what I was wearing. "Here it is," I tapped on the link and it opened a webpage, which contained a video showing how to do a gentle rosy tan eyeshadow along with a slightly dramatic wing and long, luscious lashes. Along with the eyes, there was a full contour and light, glowy pink lips. As I was waiting for my eyeliner to dry so I could apply false eyelashes, I pulled out a baby pink shimmer nail polish and applied a quick first coat to my nails. After my makeup was done, I slung my stylish leather backpack over my shoulder, heading to my matte black Mustang V6 and driving to school. I arrived at school, noticing that there seemed to be less life in the building than the weeks before, and that with each passing day, more and more people were missing from school or sitting alone with dark, unnerving looks in their eyes. I sat down at the lunch table that I sit at every morning, smiling at my friends.

"Hey, Marissa," Joey waves me over, and I stand to head over to his side of the table, "Your highlight is flawless today babe,"

"Why thank you," I blush, holding his gaze for a second longer than necessary, running my tongue across my bottom lip before turning away to reach into my backpack. I grab my phone, and stand to go purchase a cinnamon tea from the school cafe. I reach out to grab the cup, when something catches my attention. My whole life I've had a thick, reddish-pink rectangular tattoo on my wrist, covering where my date would be, but now it was definitely lighter than when I looked at it this morning while I was doing my makeup. My heart rate begins to accelerate, so I reach into my pocket to pull out a five dollar bill and quickly rush back to my table without collecting the change. I crack the cheap black lid as I try to put it on with my shaking hands, and I feel dizzy and unsure of myself. My friends definitely noticed the difference in my attitude.

"What's wrong why are you shaking?" question one of my friends, Kathy, a concerned look sticking on her face as she grabbed my hands to pull them away from the scalding drink. I saw Kathy's date on her right wrist, shining through the sheer white of the sleeves of her shirt, the red seemingly screaming at my eyes. My breathing quickened as I began to be able to read the numbers and letters through her shirt and felt them pulsating on my wrist. I ripped my hands from her grasp and pulled my sleeve to my elbow. I stared at the rapidly fading rectangle on my wrist, the date becoming readable the longer I stared. November 21st, 2017. My breath hitched in my throat, my jaw dropping and my eyes filling with tears. I frantically looked around before sliding my sleeve back down my arm and sprinting to the bathroom. I heard several offhand comments from students I ran into on the way there, but I didn't care. I needed to be out of the public sight. I entered the first bathroom, only to see it occupied by another girl with frizzy blonde hair. She stood clasping her hands together, staring down at the joint, her face emotionless and in pure agony at the same time. The me from 10 minutes ago would have asked her what was wrong, but now I just needed to find somewhere private to collect my thoughts. I spun on my heel, quickly walking out the door before the younger looking girl noticed there was a person there to begin with.

"Hey Marissa, what's up?" asked some unnamable person as I quickly brushed past them in the hall, ignoring the question. "Or not, I guess," the person continued, and I felt a small pang of guilt, but it soon disappeared. I was going to die in 20 days. I reached the back of the school, where the rarely used chem labs were, along with the dark bathroom. I slammed back the door, heading into the flickering lights of the sterile environment, kept that way by the druggies and whores who used it for their recreational purpose. At this time, there was four people in there, but the look on my face must've told them all what I was about to. They all took one look at my expression, a mixture of anger, fear, and unruly anxiety, and quickly ceased what they were doing to leave. I closed the door behind them, giving one of the girls with very long brown hair and light freckles a sarcastic smile as she left, her arm stretched out to her insufferable 'boyfriend'. I quickly closed the door, my anger fading being quickly replaced by an aching pain of sadness and fear. I felt the heat of tears in my eyes, soon followed by them running down my face.

"I can't believe we're doing this isn't this like, ille-" a blonde came in, her stilettos wobbling, the wearer unable to walk in them properly. She took one look at my face, pointed quickly over her shoulder and whirled to leave bumping into another girl behind her, this one with long black hair. Their faces were confused as they both looked at me one more time before leaving the room. I wiped my tears away and stood to look at myself in the mirror. My eyeliner was a bit smudged and there were lighter areas of my contour, but some concealer and a blending brush could fix that. I whipped out my set up, and began to work at my face once again, when first bell rang. I ignored it, considering my grades wouldn't matter now. I was going to die anyways.

A/N: 1189 words according to NaNoWriMo