Hollow Hearts

The Smell (Trollpasta in the works)

I developed a form of insomnia in a weird way: texting way into the night. My parents first noticed at breakfast when I often would stare "a thousand miles away" and not come to until my father would take my face in his hands and yell my name. Every night for three months I texted my friends or watch youtube videos simply because I couldn't sleep.
My mom thought counseling would cure my texting addiction and we took a trip to the Yamhill Family and Youth Center and set up an appointment with a woman named Vriska Tavrosky. The first time I saw Vriska was on a Thursday at 4 pm. She was quite an attractive lady for 40 years old, and her accent didn't mask the English she spoke.
She diagnosed me with mild depression, which was common with all teenagers, and prescribed me with some kind of sleeping medication. I don't know the name, don't care to. All I remember is that they made me sleep VERY well.
I first noticed the disgusting smell three months into the medication. It smelled like something crawled under my bed and died. But then again I've never experienced death so how would I know? Just a guess.
I couldn't point out where it came from, so I looked all over for it. Into my closet where I found old and crusty socks that didn't smell like anything, under my bed where I found porno magazines. Typical. Should probably throw them away before mom finds them, but then again I could give them back to my younger brother who puts things like that under my things.
But where the hell was the smell coming from? I checked the closet, the dirty clothes basket an everything. That's when my brother walked into the room to get his homework.
"Dude," I started, "what's that smell?"
"What smell?" He asked, "oh the lavender? Yeah, mom went up here last night and sprayed the room. Not sure why, though." He said.
"No, I don't smell spray, I smell crap." I told him.
"Well you must have a broken nose because I smell lavender. That or it's your upper lip, have you been eating shit again?" I slugged him in the shoulder and told him that it was a nasty joke. I don't appreciate disgusting shit; I have major OCD when it came to scents.