For Not Using Ny Taxes To Fill Holes With More Cement

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WOWOWOW okay so 20TH CHAPTER ALREADY !!!
I COULDNT HAVE DONE IT WITHOUT YOUR WONDERFUL FEEDBACK AND LOVELY ENCOURAGING NOTES THANK YOU SO MUCH

ANYWAY, ID LIKE TO DEDICATE THIS CHAPTER TO THE LIKE 5 PEOPLE WHO HAVE BEEN THE MOST ACTIVE AND ALWAYS COMMENT AND VOTE AND ALWAYS HAVE HAD MY BACK ON THIS FIC BECAUSE THEY REALLY DESERVE TO BE RECOGNIZED. SO WITHOUT FURTHER DELAY, THIS CHAPTER IS DEDICATED TO

@twenyonereasons

@PrettyWeeper

@__fairly__local__

@AgentCalifornia415

And

@shipping_youtubers

ILY ALL SO MUCH WOWZER
Also school has officially started. So I'm vvvv sorry if I don't always update on time starting now. I also had a huge writer's block. Seriously guys. I owe you.
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We drove in silence to the recording studio, which was alright. Only a slight buzz tickled the back of my head. I was hopeful. And I was determined to win. I would fight today. I repeated the phrase in my head until it ring like a bell, melodic in my mind.

It rang until it lulled me to sleep. I curled up to the side of the passenger seat, leaning on the window, and fell into a deep unconsciousness. Josh could sense me slipping away into the sound of my own thoughts, and patted me gently and rhythmically on my back as I lost self awareness completely.

The nap didn't last too long, as the road grew bumpy. I wished they'd fill potholes. You'd think with all that tax money, they'd make effort to set regular maintenances a priority, right? Curse the government.

I could feel Josh swerved left and right, doing his best to avoid the canyons, craters, and cracks in the asphalt.

"Oh man!" He said as he tried his luck at not waking me. I looked up to see him making all sorts of funny faces, in attempt to concentrate on the open road.

The radio station was now on, and it wasn't good music. Radios always had tended to have distasteful music to us. The songs on this radio station was okay. My taste in music at this very moment, however, was Josh's entertaining faces. They even scrunched to the beat of the song.

Man, that kid was always in sync with the world. He always had a rhythm up his sleeve, and a beat in his heart.

Well, I mean technically if his heart wasn't beating he wouldn't be alive. You know what I mean. I guess I was trying to be poetic there, and it obviously didn't work. Let's pretend it made sense.

We arrived not 15 minutes later, pulling into the cracked asphalt. It crunched beneath the rubber tires, and the abandoned parking lot was hauntingly vacant. Pulling into the empty space between two faded lines, we parked and stepped into the open air.

I soaked in the fresh air and faint scent of hyacinths, and strolled down the cracked cement sidewalk. There was a huge crater every other tile of rock.

The road, now this? They should really fix these things. Someone could get hurt. Someone fill these darn holes with more cement. Curse the government.

We pushed open the reflective glass doors, and headed inside. As we did so, we were struck by a blast of heat, as the autumn air made an exit from out bodies. The red on our noses, cheeks, and ears, melted away. Heating during the autumn was the best. Heading to our hole, our secret lair, our, whatever you want to call it. Batcave. Laboratory. Narnia.

I turned to him, and Blurry got the best of me. He took over, and I was left stranded, helpless, to do nothing, but watch the show.

He looked at Josh, and stared him square in the eyes.

"Josh." He said, placing a hand carefully on his shoulder. He turned to us, and indicated he was listening.

"Do you believe in life after death?" he said, grinning wildly. He put a two fingers to my head before he could answer, and pulled a fake trigger.

"Pooowww!!"

I hit my head as collapsed to to floor.

Nothing but black.

The Blurryface EffectWaar verhalen tot leven komen. Ontdek het nu