Through The Glass.
folder
Original - Misc › Drugs and Alcohol
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
28
Views:
1,791
Reviews:
6
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Original - Misc › Drugs and Alcohol
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
28
Views:
1,791
Reviews:
6
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
This is an original work of fiction. Any resemblance to people, living or dead, is purely coincidental. This work belongs to me, and plagirism and redistrubution without my consent is strictly prohibited.
Chapter 1
It was the morning of my seventeenth birthday, but as I woke I realized that nothing had really changed. I was just a year older. I stepped out of my bed, stretching my arms, as I walked over to the mirror to examine myself. My shirt had risen above my navel and I stared at myself. My stomach was completely flat, and although many of my friends had told me that I was 'just right,' looking at my sister I knew that wasn't true. She was more than just right, she was perfect. And I was average. I'd learned to deal with that, but that didn't mean I was happy about it.
I examined my face. I had slight bags under my eyes. I'd never been one to sleep too well during the night, or rather, to sleep well ever, and it showed. My eyes looked slightly glazed over with sleepiness. My lips were dry and a piece of hair hung limply over my face. I brushed the stray strand of hair behind my ear, grabbed my clothes for school that morning, and heading to the bathroom.
I had to pee first, so I did, all the while rubbing my eyes and dreading the day ahead of me. I got up, flushed, and went to the sink to brush my teeth. I had this weird obsession with dental hygiene. I brushed until my mouth felt fresh and clean, my teeth looked white enough, and my gums bled. I rinsed, and spat, and then followed my extreme brushing regimen with some mouthwash. I dried my face off with the hand-towel by the sink and went to turn on the shower.
I stripped off my pajamas and stepped into the shower. The water was scalding hot and I was surrounded by puffs of steam, just the way I liked it. A burning hot shower was just what I needed to start of the day. It was a fresh start. It burned away every germ, every remain of the day that had passed, and made me feel like I was starting anew, even if just for a few hours. I scrubbed my skin until it was raw and almost squeaking with cleanliness, and turned off the water, satisfied. I looked like a steam lobster every time I came out of the shower, and it always made me laugh at myself. I patted my skin dry and wrung out the water in my hair, running a brush through it just a few times before putting on some lotion. I put on my jeans, black, and a plain red t-shirt and some socks before padding back to my room.
I dug under the bed, pulling out a pair of Chuck's, and sat on the edge, untying the laces carefully before slipping each shoe on my foot and proceeding to tie the laces again. I walked over to the vanity, a gift my mother had bought me for my fourteenth birthday, and ran some eyeliner along my eyelids. I was finally ready to start another boring, routine day.
I ran down the stairs, seeing my mom fuss over the toaster and my dad reading yesterdays paper and sipping from his coffee that he always drank black and straight. The idea of how it tasted made me cringe every time. My mother always shouted at me, "Have a good day!" even though she never knew how much I hated going to school, and my father always looked up from the sports section long enough to wave goodbye and nod his head. I always mumbled "See you later," under my breath before walking out the door.
Most people took the bus to Union High, and it was about a half hour walk from my home, but I liked to walk, no matter the weather. It was winter, and it was cold. It was always freezing on my birthday, December 18. I hugged my arms around my jacket and walked all the way to school, the same way I always did, alone.
I already dreaded the classes, the lectures, and this continual cycle that never seemed to end. I would sit, alone, and see my only friend, Chris during our 11:00 o' clock lunch period. Then, I would go home at the end of the day, sit in my room and do homework until dinner, where me and my parents would sit alone and eat, dad talking about work, mom talking about her patients, and both of them occasionally asking about how my day went, me giving the same answer, and us all seemingly uninterested at what the other had to say.
I dreaded that my life would continue on this way forever until I died. This would be another routine day, just like the rest.
Or so I thought.
I examined my face. I had slight bags under my eyes. I'd never been one to sleep too well during the night, or rather, to sleep well ever, and it showed. My eyes looked slightly glazed over with sleepiness. My lips were dry and a piece of hair hung limply over my face. I brushed the stray strand of hair behind my ear, grabbed my clothes for school that morning, and heading to the bathroom.
I had to pee first, so I did, all the while rubbing my eyes and dreading the day ahead of me. I got up, flushed, and went to the sink to brush my teeth. I had this weird obsession with dental hygiene. I brushed until my mouth felt fresh and clean, my teeth looked white enough, and my gums bled. I rinsed, and spat, and then followed my extreme brushing regimen with some mouthwash. I dried my face off with the hand-towel by the sink and went to turn on the shower.
I stripped off my pajamas and stepped into the shower. The water was scalding hot and I was surrounded by puffs of steam, just the way I liked it. A burning hot shower was just what I needed to start of the day. It was a fresh start. It burned away every germ, every remain of the day that had passed, and made me feel like I was starting anew, even if just for a few hours. I scrubbed my skin until it was raw and almost squeaking with cleanliness, and turned off the water, satisfied. I looked like a steam lobster every time I came out of the shower, and it always made me laugh at myself. I patted my skin dry and wrung out the water in my hair, running a brush through it just a few times before putting on some lotion. I put on my jeans, black, and a plain red t-shirt and some socks before padding back to my room.
I dug under the bed, pulling out a pair of Chuck's, and sat on the edge, untying the laces carefully before slipping each shoe on my foot and proceeding to tie the laces again. I walked over to the vanity, a gift my mother had bought me for my fourteenth birthday, and ran some eyeliner along my eyelids. I was finally ready to start another boring, routine day.
I ran down the stairs, seeing my mom fuss over the toaster and my dad reading yesterdays paper and sipping from his coffee that he always drank black and straight. The idea of how it tasted made me cringe every time. My mother always shouted at me, "Have a good day!" even though she never knew how much I hated going to school, and my father always looked up from the sports section long enough to wave goodbye and nod his head. I always mumbled "See you later," under my breath before walking out the door.
Most people took the bus to Union High, and it was about a half hour walk from my home, but I liked to walk, no matter the weather. It was winter, and it was cold. It was always freezing on my birthday, December 18. I hugged my arms around my jacket and walked all the way to school, the same way I always did, alone.
I already dreaded the classes, the lectures, and this continual cycle that never seemed to end. I would sit, alone, and see my only friend, Chris during our 11:00 o' clock lunch period. Then, I would go home at the end of the day, sit in my room and do homework until dinner, where me and my parents would sit alone and eat, dad talking about work, mom talking about her patients, and both of them occasionally asking about how my day went, me giving the same answer, and us all seemingly uninterested at what the other had to say.
I dreaded that my life would continue on this way forever until I died. This would be another routine day, just like the rest.
Or so I thought.