till i get back

Amnesia//12:24am

So take me to the paradise
It's in your eyes

I wake up to someone jabbing my shoulder harshly, sending a sharp pain down my arm.

I subconsciously open one eye and look to see who woke my ass up.

just let me sleep.

god, its the girl-that-wont-stop-asking-me-questions that woke me up.

I roll my eyes all the way back to Pluto, grumbling as i turn over to face the wall.

She then grabs my arm, digging her pointy nails into my skin.

"god damn, what the hell?!" I hiss at the pressure on my arm and yank her arm away from mine.

"Well if you got your fatass up beforehand, it wouldn't have happened," she says sassily with a hand on her skinny hip.

I send her a death glare and sit up fully, leaning back on the head hoard as i inspect the puncture marks she gave me.

she's as psychotic as my fucking-

She shrugs and scampers off out of the room, leaving me alone in the room.

I lay my feet on the cold ground, slightly retracting them back as it sends razor sharp waves my nerves.

I walk to the bathroom, that is located on my side of the room, and tiredly rip the ponytail holder out of my hair, causing it to fall in loose knots and waves.

i run my fingers through my messy mop and lazily brush my hair, not caring that some parts are sticking up.

i look in the mirror to see that my face looks like someone poured boiling hot water on it.

fuck this shit

i mumble incoherent words to myself as i aggressively wash my face and plop on some of my cheap makeup to cover my tomato, red cheeks.

I dont know why i bother with this makeup; all it does is cover up what's really there - a depressed little girl with no will to life.

-

I meet my bitch of a roommate in what im assuming is like a cafeteria area, as she had 'accidentally' spilt her cereal and coffee on me, making everyone's eyes turn to me.

I bet they're thinking about the freaky girl who has smelly hair now because of the milk or coffee stains on her grey hoodie, and are going to write blogs about it on their Instagram.

god this cant be happening

I pray to god that i ran out of there fast enough to the bathrooms so that they couldnt get any pictures or videos of me.

I can hear her snicker and their laughter everywhere - on the walls, bouncing off the mirrors, coming through the vents - as i sit in the back corner, behind the stalls

the walls are caving in, arousing the smell of rotten milk to form around me.

humiliation.