COMPLETE FIRST DRAFT
VERY SLOW EDITING IN PROCESS
Adelaine Colbert, a seventeen-year-old college dropout, family failure and socially awkward. After dropping out of college and destroying her parents' dreams and ambitions she has a plan. Get a job...
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"People who do not understand your silence will never understand your words"
Everyone deals with their problems in different ways. Some sort it out straight away and talk about it, some wait for time to pass before taking control of the problem and some just sweep it under the rug. And some people, like me, just decide to bottle up each and every problem that comes their way and hide it away before the bottle is close to exploding.
Talking about my problems always seemed unnecessary. I guess you tend to start to believe that nobody honestly cares how you feel, nor do they bother to ask if you're okay. They just assume that if you have an issue you'll go and talk about it and they'll be obliged to listen, not really even giving two damns of what you're actually talking about. Maybe it has always just been my way of overthinking things, I thought as I stare out the glass window watching the minutes pass by.
So, here I was, bottling my problems whilst sat in the depths of the café watching people come and go through the window. I continued to sit quietly in the nook of the room drinking the scorching hot chocolate. You know what they say, pick your own poison. At least mine wouldn't get me killed.
Deciding that I had enough when my eyes had become sore from pointlessly crying over a problem that was just going back into the bottle of unsolved issues and my phone had gone through the same twenty song playlist for the third time I decide that I don't want to be a crybaby anymore. So, instead of being a normal human and walking out of the regular house door I decide to get out of the house using the window. Probably not my smartest and most wise idea but it worked, somehow, as I landed on two feet without any initial injuries.
I never really was the smart one in the family.
I slide out my phone from the pocket of my jeans before swiping across the screen and unlocking the phone with ease.
'Thanks for putting up with me last night,' I type but deciding it sounded too blunt I continue to type more, 'sorry for not being the greatest conversationalist, I was a bit too out of it to really think straight in case you couldn't tell. Thanks again :)' I huff and erase the whole message.
"Thanks for last night, and for the record you were great company whilst it lasted," I type and once again I attempt to rewrite the message but after a fourth of maybe even fifth attempt I decide to go back to the second message I had typed along with a little 'hope to see you on Monday' at the end and a smiley face. Before I could further doubt myself I turn off my phone as I notice a familiar face stride down the street.
