Seventeen year old, Amelia West was going to have the best day of her life. She was seeing Panic! at the Disco, her favorite band. After the concert, she realized she didn't have her phone, and all hell broke lose.
very cringy if you're into that...
Brendon grabbed me with force, and wrapped his arm around my neck into a choke-hold. His grip kept getting tighter and tighter, until I could breathe anymore. I started seeing black dots until I saw nothing at all.
I woke up with a sudden gasp. I was searching for the breath I thought I had lost forever. I looked around. I was on the bed in my room, book nearby. I was still wearing the clothes from before. I must've fallen asleep, and this was all a dream.
I walk to the bathroom to fix myself up. The mirror reflected someone I was not. There was someone greasy, messy, and completely unkempt staring back at me.
How long has it been since I've showered?
I instantly jumped into the shower to make myself feel the best I can. The warmth of the water relaxed my anxieties from the nightmare I was living. It's easy to forget your hardships when you're focusing on yourself.
After I was completely clean, I got out of the shower. I put my hair in a towel hat and wrapped a towel around myself. I went to the closet to grab some clothes.
There was a knock at the door.
"Uh, just a minute!" I yelled. I quickly found a robe to wrap myself in. I opened the door, and Brendon was standing in the door frame.
"Can I help you?" I asked, annoyed.
"Um, well." His eyes trailed down my body. "I'm making dinner. Any requests?"
The way he looked at me made me sick. I felt super self-conscious. "Uh, is Italian okay?"
"Sure, darling, if that's what you want." He winked, and left.
I slammed the door.
What just happened?
I went back to the closet and put on a simple white tee and ripped black jeans. I took my hair out of my towel hat, and combed it. I found a hair dryer in the cabinet, and used it to straighten my hair.
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I took a look in the mirror. I was no longer a greasy mess. I saw myself, and I felt like myself, even if everything was far from normal.
"Darling?" I heard Brendon call. "Dinner's ready!"
"Alright!" I yelled. I grabbed a cardigan and walk down stairs.
Brendon was in the kitchen, clad with a similar outfit to mine, but instead of a sweater, he wore a leather jacket.
He turned around. "It seems like we're wearing the same thing." He chuckled. "You wear it better." Brendon bit his lip.
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