Aria
I have always loved admiring the city of New York at night. Darkness filling the sky with tall buildings and tiny little squares of light spotted all around it. Each light indicates that someone is awake. It's 3 am and someone is awake. I'm always awake around this time. I honestly don't know why. I somehow cannot sleep at 3 am. Specifically 3:28. I've tried it multiple times and every time when sleep is about to take me away my eyes shoot open. I look at my phone screen and it's always 3:28. I kept trying to fight it but it never worked. So I gave up on it. Just like I've given up on many dreams of mine too.
As I was looking at the little lights, trying to avoid my thoughts, I noticed this specific square of light. Something was going on in there. One moment the square would be completely filled with light and the next the shadow of a pillow or a lamp covered a portion of the window and then disappeared. What was going on in there? I wanted to know. The more I looked at the light and the shadows of objects flying around the room, the more curious I became. The more eager I became to find out what was happening in that room. The curiosity was eating me alive I ne-. A cold breeze stopped my train of thought. The words of my therapist popped into my head "stop overthinking things. Focus on yourself and your own life for once. It's for your own good.". Bulls**t. It's the same bulls**t I've been hearing from people all my life. "It's for your own good" "We're doing this for you". It was all bulls**t. In life I have come to the realization that everyone is selfish and just looks out for themselves. But not me. I was always selfless and looked out for others. And how did that end up? It ended up in me going through depression, being suicidal, a drug addict and rebelling against my rich, posh, stuck up parents that don't give two s**ts about my mental or physical health as long as others see me as an angel or a straight up princess. They always wanted me to be perfect. I hated that word. Perfect. I never understood the meaning of it. Having all the required or desirable elements, qualities, or characteristics; as good as it is possible to be. 'Required'. No one is required to look like anything or live up to anyone's expectations. I stopped my train of thought and placed the cigarette that has been resting on my bottom lip in between my fingers after inhaling it one last time enjoying the freedom and power that it gave me before flicking it on the ground squishing it with the tip of my shoe. I hopped on my motorcycle and put my long hair into my helmet. As I put the helmet on I tried not to ruin any of my make-up. I sighed. My parents would kill me. Ugh. I hate make up. I hate this dress. I hate this jewellery. I hate these shoes. I hate this life.
I started my motorcycle and drove down 6 flights of stairs. The steps were destroyed and worked as ramps. I drove outside of the destroyed shop in this small street that had an old sign with a couple of bullet holes on it that read "Hotel Perfecto". Ironic right? This place is my hide away spot. I come here to get away from my parents but also to think about...well life. Let me fill you in on my life a bit. I'm in a posh ass school with all this fake ass people. All the girls at my school wear a f**k ton of make-up and dress in cute preppy dresses. I'm not going to lie, I'm a hypocrite. I act all girly and nice at school but in reality I'm a f**ked up teenager that does drugs.
I'm forced to act in a girly manner and keep up a happy and fake act just so I don't get kicked out of my own home. My parents act all nice and caring in front of others but in reality they are a**holes that occasionally beat me. Yes. Beat me. Beat their own child. It isn't that bad like I've gotten slapped, pushed, kicked but they haven't left any marks on my body as evidence that they beat me so I can't tell anyone about this. F**king a**holes.
A loud motorcycle drove past me on the high way stopping my train of thought once again. I could feel my heart beating faster and faster as I drove closer to my destination. I have severe anxiety. Especially when it's time for me to go home. I parked my motorcycle in the garage and hopped off it taking my jacket and helmet off revealing a light pink dress with a small bow above my belly button and my hair that is now all over the place. I combed my fingers through it trying to make it seem more presentable. I walked in the house immediately getting yelled at by my parents for being late.
Grayson
I'm sitting in my room blankly staring at the white wall opposite of my bed that had holes into it. I looked at my phone: 3:28. My anxiety started kicking in. Every single night at 3:28 I get this anxiety attack that makes my heart beat out of my chest. My whole body becomes sweaty and my brain starts to flood with thoughts.
What will he do this time?
Will he get caught this time?
Will I go to the hospital this time?
Will someone call the police this time
But the main thought is.
Will I live If he doesn't kill me then I will probably end up killing myself. I can't take this feeling inside me. It's too much.
I heard the front door open and my dad stumbled in. The door shut leaving a loud noise echoing through the whole apartment making me flinch. The closer he came to my room the faster my heart started beating. I was panicking until I heard his slurred voice.
"Where are you, you useless piece of s**t".
What do you think will happen to Grayson?
What will Aria's parents say?
Hope you enjoyed this chapter I will be posting a new chapter soon :)
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