Game of Life

Irine - 1

Irine Irving sat in her room, the sketchbooks and papers scattered all around her as she hugged her knees and breathed heavily. Her eyes itched like the skin of a meth addict, and her hair was in a small ponytail as she had shorter hair than most girls in her town. She moving the pencil fast between her fingers, trying to get a hold of herself.

Her dark green eyes looked around the room, before tapping the mouse button on her computer. No one, still no one, ever looks at her 'horrible' art, no matter how much she shares it with people and how long and hard she works on it. She can never tell if it's just her drawing style, the camera quality, or if she just is never liked. The truth is hidden from her, and it kills her each time.

Closing the computer, the girl went up to go to the bathroom. Her obsession with drawing and painting made her forget that she is infact human, and needs to go to the bathroom and get some food. She'll never let any one that she knows know about it though, no one stuck around after she told them things she liked.

The paper felt smooth, and the graphite drawing on it smeared slightly as Irine ran her finger over her sketches of one of her favorite YouTubers, Markiplier. It was nothing but a sheet of overexagerated facial expressions, but she didn't care. Practice makes perfect, and her mind she was far from perfect. She studied her art, finding all the mistakes. His nose is too big, his ear is too small, his hair does not go like that, the teeth are not alligned in his expression were some of the many things she had noticed in her doodles.

She sighed to herself, and began to clean up the clutter. Half of the papers thrown about in the room were trashed, as she had balled them up and threw them out. The other papers she just carelessly threw into her sketchbook, feeling as if they were not important, but a very tiny sense of happiness went through her body as she saw them, they were some of the 'better' ones.

She pulled her laptop back out again, and began going through the internet. Some notifications and messages on her social medias about other peoples wonderful creations and daily activities and their happiness, but no notifications telling her that anyone has liked anything she had uploaded recently. She felt extremely left out, and the more she went through them, the more pain and hatred she felt deep inside her lungs.

No, wait...

That's the wheezing.

Anxiety was one of the worst things that had happened to Irine. Irine used to smile a lot, and befriend everyone not caring as to who she was or what others thought about her. She didn't have to think things through a gazillion times in her head. She was even able to get infront of large groups of people, give rideculous presentations, sing, and even do one of her all time favorite hobbies.

Acting. Acting was the thing that had made her her. She had spent her entire childhood acting at local plays. She was constantly memorizing anything she could, weither it be poems or songs or scripts, even things she wrote herself she had memorized. She always had lead roles, and she aced all of them. People loved it, and so did she.

That was until she moved. Everything around her had changed, she was no longer the person everyone likes, and... well... let's just keep it at that. Everything will be explained later, I promise you.

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Irine sat infront of the mirror with one of her many cosplay wigs on, a blank yet disturblingly depressed look on her face. She ran her fingers through the wig's hair, and held it up in many different ways to see if she should style it.

A black trail began to form down Irines cheek as she looked down at the counter. The bright red painted lip twitched, as warm air was forced out of of the opening between her lips and infront of her. The girl's vision seemed to have a water-smudge filter on it, and she closed her eyes to calm herself down.

She sat like that for a while, a good long while, sniffing and trying to keep more of the black lines from forming. A few had managed to make it, but she succeeded for the most part.

The garage door opened, and Irine looked up in terror at herself in the mirror. Her parents were home, and she quickly began fixing her make up, and trying on a few different smiles as well keeping her eyes open to dry them out.

The reflection smiled one of the kindest, most generous smiles she was ever given. "Irine!" a familiar females voice ran through out the house. "I have milkshakes!"

Irine's emotions went to a more happier neutral, as she rushed downstairs to meet her mother. "Milkshakes?" Irine asked, looking happy at her mother.

"Yes, milkshakes." Her mother smiled, and handed her child the cup filled with the cold treat. "I got you your favorite, cheesecake!"

The girl looked down at her milkshake before looking back up at her mother smiling. "Thank you!"

Her mother nodded, and Irine went back to her room to eat the milkshake. She looked around the room, before sitting on her bed, and just set the milkshake on the bed side table. She pulled out her laptop, pulled up a YouTube video. She let the ad play as she got into a comfortable curled up ball, and began to eat her milkshake. 

"Hey guys, and welcome to..." the man's voice, his only known feature, started with the beginning of the video as she smiled to herself, and the pain in her chest began to rise.