I roll out of bed onto the floor. This fucking blows. I haven't cleaned my room in weeks. I haven't showered. I haven't even brushed my teeth. What's the point? I feel like shit. Everything is always the same. There's no reason to get out of bed.
"Vesper!" my mom calls, "Come down here!"
Oh god. I'm in trouble.
I mean what do I expect? I haven't done my schoolwork in god knows how long. I'm so tired.
I trudge downstairs.
"Why do you have so many missing assignments?"
I look at them. My mind starts to wander. A buzzing fills my ears as my
mom starts screeching at me about my grades. I can't hear them. I can't hear anything.
"I'm taking your phone," they snap, bringing me back to consciousness. I give them my phone. I go back upstairs. What else am I supposed to do? I'm rotting. Decaying. They took away my one source of contacting friends so what am I to do other than waste away here in this grimy room? I recall back to elementary school when I had straight A's and was a "bright, gifted young student". Yeah right.
My eyes drift over to my nightstand. It's clouded in empty water bottles and candy wrappers. My floor is covered in dirty clothes and chip bags.
I'm so pathetic.
Sometimes I wished I could smoke or drink. It's times like these where I understand why someone would allow themselves to drown in them. But I have no access to those, and I know it's not worth it. I don't want to destroy myself. I don't want to kill myself, either. I just want to.. stop.
My ceiling fan rotates slowly. Around. Around. Around. Around. Around.
The clock ticks. Am I still here? Why am I still here?
I feel myself need to use the restroom. I get up and flick the light on. I peer at myself in the mirror and run my hand through my hair.
Faceless.
