We're all mad here, it's Wonderland.
~
Harry latches onto my passionate on-beat arms as he keeps me from moving forward. "Are you fuckin' mad?" He grits through his teeth.
"I'm in Wonderland, Pretty Boy," I throw my free arm in the air, motioning t...
"Shoulda just waited until you got home" I drunkenly slur to myself, mimicking Harry's accent as my feet drag along the illuminated pavement.
If I could set a timer for my panic attacks, plan them around my day, I certainly would pretty boy.
The streets are eerily quiet as the moonlight shines through the broken clouds, the light not being enough to illuminate the darkened roads.
My feet come to a halt as the suppressed rage from my recent interaction with Harry begins to surface, causing my skin to boil. My eyebrows knit into a blanket of wrinkles as my relaxed hands ball into fists.
I hope he gets that redhead pregnant. He screams "pulling out is for pussies".
"Fucking asshole!" I scream at the top of my lungs in the nearly abandoned street. Usually, I am able to control my temper but one can only keep their cool for so long. From the awkward interaction with Cade, the distant encounter with Auggie, the unwarranted panic attack, and the British fuck, I have completely lost it.
I scream at the top of my lungs, most likely waking the sleeping neighbors as I stomp on the ground, hoping for some relief.
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Bitch? Fucking stop? This is weird.
"Who fucking cares anymore? Huh? Who cares if it's weird?" I angrily question my inner voices as I throw my arms up in the air, my limbs flimsy from the several shots I had consumed prior.
I breathe in heavily as I try to steady my manic body, reaching for my phone to see what the time is. I should probably go on Reddit or some shit, find a job. Where do you even find jobs? I am just gonna go stand at the corner, make some quick cash. Maybe I'll rob a store, get sentenced to ten years in jail. At least then I wouldn't have to worry about electricity or the absence of food.
I seem to find myself in these situations way too often. Lost, alone, and often drunk, calling Mia. I sloppily swipe through my phone as I look for Mia's contact. I squint my eyes, trying to turn the brightness down before I wreck my cornea. My nimble fingers reach her contact as I pull the phone to my ear, readying myself for the lecture I am about to receive.
"Quite a show you put on" I scoff, still angry from the words Harry spoke as the phone continues to ring.
"Hey daddy" Mia confidently responds causing me to chuckle from her choice of words.
Mia always had a way with words whether they be humorous, emotional, angry, comforting; she knew what to say in every situation when I, on the other hand, couldn't form a coherent nor proper sentence to save my damn life.
"Miaaaa" I draw, continuing to stumble down the ragged road. My worn sneakers getting destroyed with additional step.
"You're drunk. Pres, I told you to not go to the bar again" Mia responds, her tone gathering a slight edge as I hear her shuffle.
