.01
I'm high when I get the text.
I had split open six Oxy pills a half an hour earlier, sharing the line with some randoms at the party I was at. We were in the bathroom, I was huddled over the counter when my back pocket vibrated. The two other girls urged for their turn - they claimed I was hogging it. Which was true, but it was also mine. I gave in all the same, retreating from the bathroom, back into the crazy living room of Danica Brookem's house, sweaty bodies pressed against mine.
I soon blurred in, my body fell into place with theirs - we were all one, our bodies moving together in a repeating rhythm. This was the place I felt at home: high - my mind nowhere, sent to the speakers of the blaring music that was shaking the floors, freed of any responsibility and anyone. I was completely alone, but at the same time I was surrounded with faceless strangers whose bodies fit perfectly into mine, like we were meant to be there at that exact moment in time, moving with each other, our bodies in total sync.
My phone vibrates again, sending my mind back to my head. I try to ignore it, but the back of my mind itches at me to retrieve it, to abandon my small paradise in the middle of Danica Brookem's living room. Again, I try to ignore the itch and my vibrating phone.
Only to no prevail.
I finally break out of the swarm of bodies, disappointed. Sweat covered me like a thick cloak, my arms felt like rubber and my legs were uncontrollable. I felt them leading me to a corner, my mind spiraling with colorful fantasies of solitude and the wind, blowing through my hair.
I can't control my arms either as they retrieve my phone from my back pocket. Three texts.
i need u.
all of my change has been spent on you
please come over, i can't be alone
They're all from Annie Jackson.
The name stings my gut. Makes my hands shake as I stare at my phone screen unblinkingly. I immediately shove it back into my pocket, where it feels like a hot coal dragging my jeans down.
Annie Jackson.
My phone buzzes again. I don't make a move to grab it. To hell with Annie Jackson. I hate Annie Jackson.
With that, I leave the cold corner of isolation. My high is still here, although not as strong. As soon as I get to the crowd of bodies dancing like swaying flowers, though, I get lost again, freedom leaking out of my pores.
this is really short but yeah something hUUUge happens next chappie so
joke of the chapter: what do u call an annoying elephant
an irrELEPHANT HAHAHAHSHHSHSHDJDH
ok vote or share bye
