The Product Children: Rise of the Fallen

Chapter 1

The familiar tune of folk music filled the night air. It swirled around all of us high school students and seemed to hang in the air like a cool breeze.

Against my better judgement, I tipped my plastic cup back and chugged another beer that I had gotten from the keg that always attended these parties. I let my hair swing in the wind, chin pointed to the sky, as I searched for any stray drops of liquid in the cup. Better not to waste, I thought to myself as I let the droplets fall onto my tongue and dissolve. I think I was drunk, but I'm no stranger to dancing at parties. It was hard to tell if I was drunk or if I was just letting go for the third night this week.

I'd had a huge test that day that I was positive I had flunked. Not uncommon, but it never got easier to tell my dad. He had higher hopes for me than I was willing to reach for. He always pushed me and told me, "If you want out of this small town, you've got to try harder." His words were hollow, and I never listened. Why would I want to leave anyway? Things were simple here. Easy.

And why would I work hard to get out of South Carolina? We had only just moved here, it seemed. We would move again when the next tragedy struck. And tragedy has a way of striking me.

At one point, I'd wanted to be a nurse. And by "at one point," I mean two years ago. My sister and me shared that dream together since we were young. We dreamed of me in the emergency unit and her in the NICU. She always wanted to have lots of babies herself, and she decided that until she was ready for her own, she would care for others.

However, two years ago, both of our dreams died with her.

But still, my dad pushed me, convinced that one day I'd wake up ready to save lives and remember my calling in life. Not very likely at this point with grades that were barely going to get me a high school diploma. Those were his desires. He wanted to watch me succeed in life, despite what I had been through. Sort of like my older brother, who was attending college in New York to study journalism. Unlike both of them, I had chosen to bury all of my ambitions along with Lexi.

However, not caring was a chosen mindset for me. It was hard to look my dad in the eyes nearly every other week to tell him that I had failed another exam or forgotten to write another paper. Guilt filled me each time I walked into another testing room, knowing that I barely knew what the test even was on. Lexi wasn't even here to put in the effort, and I knew if she were, that she would be dominating everything. My twin sister doesn't have the opportunity to study for tests, and here I was, determined to fail each one more than the last.

I'm not even sure when it started. There was a time that I was laser focused on being the best that I could be. Lexi was on track to be valedictorian back in our school in New York, and I worked really hard to try and stay the path with her. I was always just a little behind, but I did feel like I could've pulled salutatorian out. Leslie Nicholson and Cole Oswalt are probably tickled pink that we are both gone. They were runner up for those slots.

My teachers have tried to guilt trip me into behaving by saying, "why don't you do this for Lexi, if not for yourself?" but I'm doing a lot for Lexi right now. I'm surviving for Lexi. And that's honestly the best I can do. Who wants to study anyway when you could spend your nights drunk, dancing under the stars?

My friend, Josiah, was who I found myself dancing with. However, we all called him by his last name which was Russell. I don't know why, but we always did. Sometimes I wondered if he liked it, or if he wanted to return to his first name.

My arms were extended all the way as Russell swung me around, losing my cup in the process. My long, brown hair flowing behind me as I tilted my head further and further back. I was dizzy, sick even. But I hadn't drank enough to start puking yet. It was still early, just past 11:30 at night.