Mature. Viewer Discretion is advised.
*The people inside of this work are FACE-CLAIMS. This has no correlation to any IRL individual.*
*This is messy plot. Made when I was a teen. Beware.*
The story of a young woman who finds her style, self worth...
"And why don't I just keep on looking for her? 'Cause I found her but now she is gone." ♫ Lying to you by Keaton Henson. ✰ TW: Mention of assault.
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N-A-K-E-D.
I was naked.
I didn't know where I was, who was next to me, what had happened the previous night, or what was going to happen that day, but I did know that I could physically feel my naked chest, stomach and thighs pressed against the soft sheets of this random bed that I was sprawled out on.
Never. Ever. Ever, did I think I'd be in a situation like this.
Naked in a stranger's bed.
And I knew my mom would whoop my ass, drag me by my hair to depths of hell and toss me into Satan's arms himself, if she could see me now.
I'd been awake for the past ten minutes, staring at the wall, contemplating how I was gonna let her kill me in all honesty.
I knew for a fact that I was in so, so, so much trouble with my parents and I didn't doubt that they were looking for me, and I didn't doubt that I was never gonna be able to do anything ever again.
But, the real question was would I die from exhaustion after staying awake for days to pray away all of the sins that I knew I was committing even as we speak, or would my mom just shove a knife in my neck and call it a day?
It could've been both, but it was hard to think of much with such a pounding headache.
I'd heard people around my college talk about hangovers, but I didn't think they hurt that bad until now.
It was always 'my head hurts,' not 'I can feel tiny spears stabbing into my brain and muscles, slicing them to pieces.' Even though, that was what it felt like.
My stomach felt sick, my eyes were dizzy even though I was lying still and I wanted nothing more than to just get up, close those curtains, dig back into the very, very comfortable queen-sized bed I was sleeping in and go back to dreaming.
Whoever's bed it was.
I didn't know what room I was in but it was nice.
There were posters all over the walls of the Beatles, Alice in chains, Fall out boy, My Chemical Romance, Blondie, Joy Division, and a bunch of other metal bands that I'd heard of but not listened to. There were shelves with stacks of books, records, CDs and decorations like Betty Boop and Tinker Bell. Along with a couple of guitars and a giant amp. Whoever's room this was, was a creative person who liked their things in specific places. Everything was perfectly placed and messily-neat, sorta like my room.
I owned a lot of things that-
Crap. Speaking of owning things, where is my phone? Where is anything? God, I need to get up.
