Once again, Blake was taking jabs at me. "God I hate you so much at times". That's what I would have liked to say, but I decided to suppress, drinking from my red plastic cup full of warm beer. I know not to take her seriously, but it pisses me off anyway. She's the usual high idiot. I know one when I see it. I'm surrounded by them anyway. And the basement swarming with people I've never heard of failed to prove me wrong.
We've been friends on and off this school year. I have no idea how we even became "friends". I just remember that at one point in time, I found that this person was around me more than others. Which is rare. Only Nick bears with me usually, but that's just because I grew up with him. But Blake? They're always so unpredictable, that by this point, it's not even that surprising. They probably woke up one day, and a joint suggested them to see who the asshole in the blue sweater was. Me, it was me.
Vee, Kyle and Max told them I was some kind of bad influence. Ironic, because Blake isn't exactly the person you'd introduce to your parents either. The rest of her group hates me, just because I don't put up with their gay little debates about morality and I'm supposedly "encouraging her to be worst" just because I don't parent her. But it's never been my issue, nor it will ever be.
With the same charisma of a rotten vegetable, I looked around once more. As the magenta and lilac lights flood the room, and the awful D12 music was blasting, girls and boys were mingling, and chatting about useless things I'll never get to know of.
Suddendly, a loud thud.
"Has anyone heard it?" I thought, glancing around the room in confusion. But no, it was just full of the random teenagers I barely knew, because apparently they were too deep into their stupid party. Blake was too high to notice too, as another flim of smoke escaped their dry lips.
I got my back off the wall, after dismissing the stoner's incoherent blabbering for the 500th time this evening, and sauntered to another corner, hoping to find peace. But the thought of such a strong noise right outside my basement didn't sit right with me. Not even Nick was bothered by it. How could it be? It's his house too goddamn it. Why do I have to be the responsible brother out of the two? I sighed, and told myself that it's not gonna be a big deal if I don't make it into one. I tapped my foot in regular intervals, trying to brush it off. But then, I decided to check it out: whatever the hell the noise was, it didn't seem reassuring.
I downed the last drops of convenience-store alcohol, and headed towards the front door. As the hinges slowly turned to shower me with the humid night air, the familiar itch of a sneeze profiled itself, before disappearing again. I glanced upon the freshly cut, grassy lawn.
And there, the most unusual sight showed itself to me.
A girl with dark and straight brown hair, wearing a white cloak was flipping off the sky in anger. Her face was twisted by such fury that her left hand, the one with its middle finger down, was clenched in a tight fist. She looked like a toddler that was about to stomp their feet. So pissy. I sighed. What the hell?
But what would have really caught anyone's eye was her back. It had a clump of scrunched up feathers attached, as if they were once wings. Maybe she was a crappy hippie-ish cosplayer. One of those that dressed up as niche characters from God-knows-what nerdy anime? Why is her costume so ruined? Is she a drunkard? Why is a random lady in my front lawn giving the sky a middle finger?
YOU ARE READING
Back On Earth -(DRAFT)
Teen FictionCraig is a cynical guy. He always finds himself surrounded by people he doesn't need to know, because he's always lived his life being detatched from everyone, except for his brother Nick. But one day, during yet another party, an unexpected figure...
