Aubrey Tessel's life story would be an article about the long term effects drugs have on a kid's future. Just when she thinks she's grasped onto hope of being content, it slips from her fingers. As she finally gets fed up of her constant cycle of de...
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We've all asked ourselves if our 8 year old selves would be proud of who we've grown up to be, and it seems to be a question crawling into my mind often. Growing up, I'd always wanted to do just that — grow up. I'd imagine going to parties and having great friends and high school would be a musical where I'd be Sharpay Evans and get my own way, you know? That was my goal. I never wanted to be an astronaut or a doctor, I didn't want to be rich or even happy — kids from my side of town never had goals like that.
Although, the idea of being so self-destructive and fucked up as a 17 year old had never crossed my mind. I don't think that crossed anyones minds at that age. When you thought of parties, alcohol and drugs weren't on your mind, nor was sneaking to the guest room and having a quickie with a guy that you'd be stuck facing on Monday at school, but I guess that's where my mind set is now. Maybe my 8 year old self would be proud that I'm finally grown up, or maybe she'd be disappointed because she'd always said that she'd never follow a step in Debbie's path. As I look down at my best friend — I realized it's too late to undo everything I've done to myself.
"Come on, let it all out.." I soothed to Izzy as I held her light brown shoulder-length hair back into a pony tail while she knelt in front of the white toilet bowl, throwing the last nights vodka up into the toilet.
My eyes travelled down to her blue shorts and half top, stained with grass and dirt from the night before, and were still damp due to her getting into the shower fully clothed just minutes before the current incident.
My nose wrinkled in disgust as she attempted to mumble something incoherent, but ended up hunched back over the dunny, throwing more up into it until she had nothing left in her but vital organs.
She got up, focusing on her balance before she clutched her head as her brown eyes water. She wiped the spit off her mouth with the back of her left hand, flushing the toilet with the other, before giving me a thumbs up to show she's fine and left the bathroom, chances are to go pass out back in her bed.
I shook my head and laughed a little at how she looked with her hair sticking up before realising I probably looked just like her. Walking up to the mirror sitting behind the basin, I took in the appearance of my chocolate brown hair sticking out all over the place, probably matted for all I knew. I ran my fingers through it, smoothing it back before pausing, my eyes widening and mouth opening into an 'o' shape as I noticed the giant red spot on my neck. I quickly covered it back up with my hair as the memories come flooding back, I groaned and made sure it was no where to been seen. If you can't see it, it basically doesn't exist.
My dull eyes were surrounded with smudged mascara, which I'm sure would result in a zoo-keeper shoving me in a panda exhibit.
I opened the mirror up to grab the makeup wipes stashed in there, before walking into Izzy's room, taking a wipe out for myself before I threw the rest at her groaning figure.
