her girlfriend.

seventy-two

Christmas shopping is the worst. It's hell. Everything is so busy and everyone is all stressed. I really do hate this holiday.

I'm not even at any stores but I can tell. The whole month of december is actual fucking hell and tomorrow is christmas eve.

Definitely ain't high enough for this. I'm so stressed about my gift, too, because it's not even that good. Life is too much.

It makes me wanna fucking cry, or hit something. I wanted to make the perfect gift but I can't and even my moms advice can't help me.

"River, baby, you know Sabrina will love anything you make her," she tells me and I only just sit at the table, head in my hands.

"No. I-I want it to b-be per-perfect. Sabrina s-spoils me so much and I can't e-eve-even make this fucking photo a-album right. I hate everything."

Don't even care if I'm being dramatic right now. I want this to be prefect for my girlfriend but it's not. Not one little bit.

Looks like a fucking fourth-grader made it. It's not even close to what I had pictured in my mind when I wanted to do this.

Literally the only thing that I did good on this was figuring out what pictures are from what month and shit. It's not good enough, though.

It's supposed to be perfect. Not like an arts and crafts project. I wanted this to be something special but it's not.

"Listen, why don't you take a break," mom says, kiss on my cheek, "Go pick up Cole from school and take him for a treat or something."

I sigh, my eyes looking over what I've made. It looks like shit. And I can't even start over because all the pictures are glued on.

"Will it h-help?" I ask and I know it's a dumb thing to ask but my mom is the best at reassuring me and she does just that.

Makes me think that picking up my little brother on his last day before winter break will help me. I'll take anything at this, point.

•••

Just being near this old jail that we call school gives me flashbacks to how fucking terrible it is. I can't even deal with it.

Elementary school was almost more worse than high school for me. In high school,you can be more of a loner and people won't bother you.

Not in grade school. Kids are assholes. They used to call me a future serial killer because of how weird I was. It hurt a lot.

My point is that just sitting in this lineup, waiting for Cole to come out is making me want to fucking burn down this hell. It should be illegal.

Thank god I finally see him. Well, I see his wild hair first. Curls bouncing up and down as he runs over to me. "Yo, yo, yo, guess what?"

"Just get i-in," I tell him and he does as I say so I can get the fuck out of here and away from the school, "What?"

"It's christmas eve eve, sis," he exclaims, so loud that his little pre-pubescent voice cracks, "What Sabrina getting me? Ya gotta tell me."

Kids be so greedy. I can't nothing, though, because I was the same, I'm sure. I actually don't even remember being this bad.