Imagine [UNEDITED, ON HOLD]

Chapter 7: Jade

[Age 15]

I stumbled into the house, the hour quite early. I already knew I wouldn't be at school that day. I had to be awake for that shit in three hours, and it would be a miracle if I awoke in ten hours, forget about three.
My mum's disappointed face greeted me as she smelled the alcohol and cigarette smoke on me. In my defense, I didn't smoke, but it looked like I did because the aroma I gave off was 50% smoke from all the people I surrounded myself with.
I was buzzed, not drunk. Not even close to being wasted.
"Jade, you need to stop," my mum said.
I rolled my eyes. "Relax."
"I won't relax. Not anymore. You're out of control," she said, as if I didn't know it. "You come in late at night every weekend and some weekdays. You're ruining your life."
I was surprised that she wasn't yelling by now.
"It's fine," I slurred, the alcohol in my brain clouding the fact that my response was ridiculously stupid.
"It's not fine!" There it was. The yelling. "You'll ruin your school life and everything you want!"
"Wrong." I got good marks. I was nearly at the top of my class because I had a killer memory. I didn't need to study for classes, which was good because I spent most nights not studying anyway. I rarely did my homework, but aced every test and was the number one participant in class so that marks were okay.
"Fine, maybe not school, but everything else," she said. "You need to fix it."
"Oh, like you care," I said, the shots I'd had making me brave. I rolled my eyes again. "You can't be bothered to talk to me unless doing something wrong. You don't ask me how I am, how my life is, how my friends are, how anything is. You focus so much on your work and the bad shit I do that you never notice the good shit I do. Like how I sing at old people's homes, how I'm on the school dance team. Did you even come to my last school musical? Did you?"
"I was working," she said through gritted teeth. "You know my work is very important to me."
"I know. Of course I know. It explains why you choose it over your own daughter."
That was the argument that took place nearly every night when I stumbled in. Then, I'd leave again.

I had a massive presentation to do that would be a lot of points off if I screwed it up. I still had loads to work on, so I skipped the after school meet up at Oliver's and went home.
After typing for hours, I'd constructed the project to perfection. I knew I'd get an A. When didn't I?
Well, I didn't when I didn't actually do the work.
My phone buzzed yet again. I unlocked it and smiled at the thirty new texts and twelve missed calls. All of them invited me to a party.
I replied to one and was rewarded with the news that is be given a lift in about five minutes.
I rubbed my eyes and stood up. I stepped out of my sweatpants and into high waisted shorts, pulling off my loose Disneyland t-shirt and pulling on a crop top that didn't leave much to the imagination.
After washing my face, I slicked on a layer of a red lip stain and applied dark eye makeup. I ignored the fact that I wasn't wearing shoes and flew down the stairs. My mum stopped me.
"Where are you going? It's late. It's almost midnight."
"Of course," I said a bit too cheekily. "That's when the best parties start."
I ran out the door and into the waiting car before she could stop me. I piled into the backseat where there were about five people already sitting; the two seat belts were not even buckled in any way.
The car swerved down the empty road, the radio cranked up. We whooped and hollered as we peeled down the street of houses. Since the driver was going about twenty over the speed limit, we reached the house much faster than we should have.
I leaped out of the car first and pushed my way into the kitchen. A red cup was pushed into my hand but I wrinkled my nose. No way. I might have been a girl that dressed like a slut and got wasted every night, but I had standards. Sure, they weren't high, but they were there.
They started with not drinking out of random cups.
Four drinks later, I was buzzed to the point of no return. I joined a small group of five people and we scampered out of the house. We walked along the abandoned train tracks, and navigated our way down to the lake. I was the most sober, and although I was sipping a cup of cranberry juice and vodka, I was deemed the leader.
Probably because I was the only one awake enough to actually get us there.
For five people, we made a tremendous amount of noise, but that couldn't be helped. We reached the edge of the water in one piece.
Drunk people appreciate aesthetically pleasing landscapes more than sober people. It's true. Drunk people are so wrapped up in the scene that they take things way too far, getting lost in a fantasy of some deep as stuff that could be translated into hella good poems that wouldn't make any sense, but then loops back into something that's amazing and beautiful.
We stripped down to our underwear and crashed into the water, the cold barely penetrating the warmth we were getting from the alcohol.
We swam for a while, kicking below the surface to snatch at people's ankles. Our hands splashed each other, the icy lake only adding to the happy buzz of everything.
"Jade!"
I turned. "Yeah?"
"You wanna head back? Jason says they're starting a new round of beer pong soon."
I nodded. "Yeah, let's go." We walked back, clothes in hand and dripping wet. Everyone in the house party was too drunk to realise that we weren't actually wearing clothes, and we were able to walk through the crowd easily.
The game of beer pong(that used the same cranberry vodka drink instead of beer) quickly flowed into a game of truth or dare.
My dare, to hook up with a guy named Sawyer that I had maths with was passed easily. I was past the point of caring.
I didn't just drink for nothing, though. I had logic. The logic sucked ass, but it could definitely be classified as logic(probably).
Every drink I took was for a reason. One for Niall leaving. One for dad for being a shit. One for Karl forgetting about me after he went to university. One for mum never caring. One for my pathetic dream of becoming a singer. The list went on and on.
I hated to do it, but I had to go home. No way was I staying over in this trashed house. I felt sort of bad for the guy who's parents owned the place, probably only because I was sobering up faster than usual, mainly from of all the depressing thoughts I'd been having. God, my brain wouldn't shut up.
I had a balanced life of drinking and school. That's all that mattered anymore. I'd do the work I needed to, I'd attend 90% of classes, and I'd drink away the rest of the pain. But I wasn't addicted.
Honestly, I wasn't. I could stop drinking any time I wanted, but I didn't because it was easier. Hell, I was only fifteen, I had three years to go till it was even legal for me to drink. But who cared? Not me.
Adults always tell their kids drinking sucks, and it isn't the crap it's made out to be. They're wrong. They're lying. Drinking is an amazing way to feel free and to forget your problems. You become a new person. You let go of the weight of parental pressure and schoolwork stress and friendship, family, and relationship strains. You become yourself.
The person you're supposed to be.
The person you would be if it weren't for all the other crap you have to deal with.
Unfortunately, everyone in the car was miles more drunk than I was. The driver, who was sober, took the long way home to everyone's place to give them a chance to work out most of the alcohol. The most drunk ones were left at the house to sleep it off.
My mind was swimming with the thoughts I'd tried so hard to forget about. Dad, Niall, Karl, everything I wished had never happened. But driving in a car of drunk people brought back so many memories I would rather I didn't have.
Before I could stop myself, I felt tears trickling down my face. God dammit.
I stood up in the car like they did in that movie the Perks of Being a Wallflower. The wind whipped past my face, blowing my hair back and staining my cheeks with dried tears.
Maybe I was a Wallflower. Could I be? I was screwed up, I drank too much, and...that's basically it. But isn't that everything a Wallflower was?
That's what the book was basically saying.
I think. I never actually finished the book and I couldn't really remember, but I honestly didn't care that much.
Still, I was a Wallflower.
Or maybe I wasn't. Maybe I wasn't anything. Maybe I was just Jade. I could be that, I could be just Jade. Not Jade Thirlwall, not Jade Badwi, nothing that tied me down with a family I didn't think I had.
Just Jade.
I made myself a promise. I wouldn't let myself be roped down with the weight of my past, present, or future.
Anything that might hurt me or cause me pain, I shut out.
My mum? Gone.
My dad? Forgotten.
Karl? Calls ignored.
Niall? Let go.
That was the only way I could truly be me.
Just Jade.
I liked that. It was honest. It was open. It was free.
No strings attached, no add-ons, no surprises.
Just Jade.

_____________________
This chapter is sort of based off the song Chandelier by Sia, especially these lyrics:

Party girls don't get hurt
Can't feel anything
When will I learn?
I push it down.
1, 2, 3...1, 2, 3...drink
Throw them back til I lose count
'Cos I'm just holding on for tonight
Won't look back, won't open my eyes
Keep my glass full until morning light
'Cos I'm just holding on for tonight

I attached the video from when Karen Gillan covered it for the television program Selfie because it's sort of the same scenario that helps people understand the true meaning of the song
Also I feel the need to release another disclaimer: none of this has a spot of truth, not this chapter. I don't think Jade was ever like this, I don't think her family was ever like this, this is fiction.