The splitting headache wakes me up. I feel like someone plunged an axe deep into my skull and left it there. I groan and clutch my head, as if squeezing it will reduce the pain.
My brain finally starts to focus on my surroundings. I am on a toilet cell floor, wearing a shirt and a pair of boxers shorts.
What the hell?
I try to stand up but every move I make sends a lightning bolt of pain up my skull.
Where am I? What time is it? I have no watch, no phone. The shirt I am wearing isn’t even mine.
I manage to get on my fours. I crawl to the door, wincing at every move I make. I grip the handle and pull hard. The door swings open. The sinks line the wall in front of me. I notice how filthy the place is. Literally all the mirrors above the sink are cracked or broken and beer bottles and cigarette butts litter the floor.
I try so hard to remember how I ended up here but the hangover screams louder than my thoughts. I lean against the toilet cell and breathe hard.
Think, Jason Think!
Nothing comes to me. All that feels my head is the pain. I slowly move to the sink on my knees. I grip the supposed-to-be-white sink bowl and pull myself up. I open the tap. I drench my head with some of the cold water and the pain reduces a bar.
I stare at the half-broken mirror up on the wall. My green-tipped black hair is ruffled and specked with particles of God-knows-what in it. I’m wearing a faded blue t-shirt with a mysterious large stain on it. My eyes are bagged and bloodshot, dried black tears run down my cheek and the name ‘Piper Cross’ is scrawled on my cheek with a girly elegant design.
All of it floods back to me so fast; I stagger and clutch my head.
A makeover. A ride. A Party.
The Cross twins.
YOU ARE READING
My own reality
Ficțiune adolescențiBeing a teenager is the hardest part of everyone's life. You get to suffer with all these annoying hormones and stuff, annoying social classes and annoying friends. Jason Hunt has never felt the urge to impress the world until he falls for Tiffany M...
