𓆩ᥫ᭡ ˗ˏˋ 𝘋𝘌𝘈𝘋
𝐈𝐍 𝐖𝐇𝐈𝐂𝐇; she's his bestfriend but yet they can't meet eye to eye when it comes to the way she is
" 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘴𝘢𝘺 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘤𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘭𝘪𝘷𝘦 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘮𝘦, 𝘴𝘰 𝘸𝘩𝘺 𝘢𝘳𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘥𝘦𝘢𝘥
𝘺𝘦𝘵, 𝘸𝘩𝘺 𝘺𝘰𝘶...
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-ˋˏ 𝐶𝐻𝐴𝑃𝑇𝐸𝑅 𝑇𝐻𝐼𝑅𝑇𝑌-𝑇𝑊𝑂, 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐥 𝐥𝐢𝐟𝐞
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♯ 𝑅𝐸𝐴𝐿 𝐿𝐼𝐹𝐸 ( 𝑇𝐻𝐼𝑅𝐷 𝑃𝐸𝑅𝑆𝑂𝑁 )
𝐬𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞. 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐤 𝐨𝐟 𝐢𝐭 𝐚𝐥𝐥. that should have been the last but yet it was followed by beats pounding. and then teenagers yelling. then more shouting then the erge to slams your head against the pillar next to you so hard until your head starts to bleed. but you don't stop. you slam it over and over and over again. until the silence comes back.
her shoulder collided with some stranger as she pushed past them. she didn't care. there was no point. she needed a drink. she wanted her vision to become blurry but not with tears, not with anger. she needed to get drunk.
her skirt rided up her legs as she pushed past more people. she didn't understand where everyone came from. but she didn't care. her head hurts. she needed something.
she found her way to the kitchen as she grabbed the first empty cup she saw before pouring whatever strong liquor she saw on the table. she needed that shit to burn her throat. she needed to let it all out. she wanted to scream.
but she didn't.
she had lost everyone when entering the party. it had been a long night. she didn't want to see anyone. she looked like a mess, she knew she did. yet she didn't care. she felt like nancy wheeler in that one episode of stranger things except she didn't have a hot man to have obsess over her. and yet she didn't need one.
she would be dead by the time that happened to her.
yet that was over exaggeration. she it didn't matter. she drinked more and more. she should have become black out drunk. but she didn't she could still move. she could still process everything. she knew exactly what she doing. especially what she was saying.
