No. You're not. Being the quiet kid with anxiety make it impossible for you to be satisfied. But that's about to change with a certain blonde who you happen to have a project with.
(THERE IS NO ROMANCE HERE, THE READER IS SUGGESTED TO BE AGES 15-18...
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Terrible.
I felt terrible.
My head was pounding heavily and my hands were feeble and could barely grip on to anything. Tears of frustration were constantly welled up in my eyes and I tried to continuously gulp down the shitty feeling in my throat.
"I'll see you after work." My mom cooed, caressing my face. She didn't notice the fact that I was gonna start crying or that my glare was starting to be laser focused on her. "Don't do anything dumb. Soup is in the cabinet." I felt my hand curl up dangerously and rolled over to my side, trying not to punch her.
After a minute, I heard the door slam shut. Heaving a sigh of partial relief, I crawled out of bed and over to my phone.
---
diamandissimp: yo tommy im sick today
innitthetommy: WHAT
innitthetommy: SINCE WHEN
diamandissimp: since now
diamandissimp: do me a favor and grab me my work from class
innitthetommy: of course dude
innitthetommy: be safe please xx
---
Aw. He sent me kisses.
How sickening.
Fuck you, voice.
I stood up, blacking out for a second. Grabbing the wall, I steadied myself and breathed heavily, practically wheezing to stay upright. Then, a hacking cough rattled my body and I was trembling where I stood.
Determined not to succumb to my bed, I gradually made my way down the stairs. At one point I sneezed so hard that I almost sent myself tumbling but my iron grip on the railing proved to be beneficial.
"Fuck my life." Normally, I chose not to curse but with the hell that I was dealing with, I think I had an excuse under my belt.
Stomping into the kitchen, I searched for the soup that my mom was talking about. I scoured every pantry and cabinet, desperate for something that would make me feel better. And when I finally checked the cabinet above the stove, I had to stop myself from screaming.
The soup she had "left" behind was an expired can of beef stroganoff. And it REEKED.
The perma-frustration tears began to slip down my face and I couldn't help the sob that left my lips. I took the can and chucked it into the garbage can, kicking the can a few times for good measure.
