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"So what are you thinking" Anna asks
"I'm thinking I need drink in my system" I say honestly
"I meant about the dress" she says turning to face me
"Anna it's fine"
"Like fine or like fine fine"
"As in its good babe"
"But I want perfect not just good"
"Then go with the first one"
"That made my hips to wide"
I just laugh finally getting up from my bed.
"Are you ok?" She asks looking at me through the mirror
"I'm fine"
"That's your problem you're always fine"
The door opened and father walks in bold as brass.
He takes one look before putting the fake smile on.
"Just checking in on you two" he smiles
"We're fine father" I smile back
He just makes sure to smile even more before walking out.
"What's his deal"
Honestly if I knew myself I would say.
I just shrug before getting up and putting the dresses back.
"Ok seriously I can see something is wrong"
"I'm just not feeling it tonight"
More like after last night I'm not sure what the point is anymore.
My life is just a big joke right now.
After last night I can't tell if I just want to sleep away and forget or get drunk and forget.
Either way I'm up for both.
"Mila"
"Hmm?"
"Did you even hear what I just said?"
"Sorry I'm really not with it tonight"
"Right that's it I'm calling a night out"
A load of drunken people around me.
As much as I want to argue cause I know I'll dance for a bit then go sit down and be boring.
I also know I can't keep myself locked up in my room just because of one thing.
Even though it's tempting.
Just blasting music through my headphones.
"And who you inviting to this drunken night?"
"Easy, your sister her man and the Lopez"
Is she trying to make this awkward for me?
I haven't spoken to him since yesterday after he walked out saying "no strings attached".
YOU ARE READING
It Hurt's Instead
Short StoryThis book will contain strong sexual themes, mature language, violence, abuse and will move fast. "Stop rolling your eyes" "Or what?" I put the cigarette out placing my body in front of hers. She backed up against the wall as one of hands placed fir...
