Tomorrow

fReAk

"What's up, man?" my closest friend greets.

"Not, much," I reply and playfully bop him on the shoulder.

The bell for next period chimes. "You'd better get to class, man."

"I'm not in any hurry," I say and shrug.

"Alright, man." He removes a letter from his pocket. "I almost forgot, man. See you there."
I tear the envelope open.

"Party at my place-- be there or be square, 'cause if you're square, you're not around."

I chuckle at my friend's less-than thoughtful words. This will be the fifth social gathering I've attended this week alone... and it's only Monday.

I'll have a blast.

~

Darkness plagues the vacant room and the lighting is dim. I wonder. Is a room occupied by only myself considered vacant— from my own perception, of course? I look around, yet nobody is present; therefore, the room is vacant. However, sudden realization dawns upon me: I am not considered alone if I am accompanied with my own thoughts. I am not alone when I sit in a room with my worst enemy.

The noise rumbling beyond the walls shrouding me suddenly becomes more and more uproarious. The entire room shakes, along with everyone in it: me, myself, and I. It isn't like I could possibly rejoin the crowd that emits the shaking, the noise and overall vivacious mood that I have yet to experience. I will not be able to handle such extremities even once more without collapsing... Maybe I just won't go back out into the utter insanity that is the outside. Honestly, I'm not sure why I'm here in the first place. I don't have to be here. At all. No superstitious being or higher power is forcing me to exist. Heck , I could leave at any time I want. I could leave right now. The mortal blood that runs through my veins could easily be drained; there is no power to prevent me from--

"Is... is somebody in there?" chides a voice from beyond my enclosure. Has somebody heard me? Impossible; I'm nearly silent in comparison to the howling and chatter outside of the walls I confide myself within. Should I... answer?

"Yeah. It's just me," I reply to the voice that beckoned. Generic responses are all I can ever think of.

The door I lean on is flung open by him, sending me crashing into the nearest wall. Of course, being the person he is, no attention is paid to my distress. "What are you doing in here?"

"I--" I hesitate to answer, jaw hanging open, when suddenly I recall the existence of the blade I'd snagged from the kitchen, nonchalantly concealed within the folds of my jacket. My palms begin to sweat as I tightly grip the handle. "Nothing. I'm just taking a breather."

He smiles. "Taking a breather..?"

Was that a question? I was being totally honest. "Alright. Come on. We're waiting on you."

I nod, "yeah, man, sorry to hold you guys up."

"Sorry for holding us up! Man, you accomplished more than just 'holding us up!' It's been, like, five-thousand and eighty two point nine minutes!" he chortles. "It's dead out there!"

"Oh, calm down." I wish I could calm down. "Don't you think you're exaggerating much?"

Ignoring my comment, he tugs on my sleeve.
"I'm coming, I'm coming!" False auspicion and pride blanket my features as I follow him into the light of the room. My typical eccentric state throws the coterie of raving party-goers into a frenzy-- well, more of a frenzy than they've already achieved. Cheekbones feathering beneath my skin, I flash a jubilant smile. What now? I guess I 'ought to do something to prove to society that I'm not really a depressed ball of psychotic thoughts and conceptions...