Dead Girl Walking

Chapter 5: Orchids

HEEEEEEYYYY DUCKIESSSSS.

Sorry for the stall, its been less than 2 weeks, but boy oh boy did this chapter go in so many different directions. I had to try to wrangle all the wild ideas into one that actually, ya know, worked?

Idk i hope y'all enjoy!

(if you dont pls let me know and ill just submit to having artificial intelligence write everything for me instead. peace ;)  )

"GAH!" I moaned.

I deserved this. I really, REALLY did.

My body was throbbing from the hangover I had drank myself into the night before. My head was throbbing like two elephants had taken up residence there and were doing an extremely energetic version of Gangnam Style. They were uninvited and unwelcome.

God damn, cheap ass, gross beer. Vodka was cleaner, less of a vomitus feeling.

I rolled over and hit the 'off' button on my alarm. It was currently 6:30 am.

I looked out the window and it was still moderately dark. It was perfect.

I always swam a lap across Cherry Lake on Sunday mornings. Early, if I could manage. Before the weekenders-the wealthy, middle-aged parents and their shrieking kids-and they're big fancy boats and yachts descended upon the lake like mosquitoes with Botox, speeding carelessly around the lake.

Ew. I was definitely one of them. I hated hypocrites and here I was...A hypocrite.

I had to hurry, if I wanted to make it across the lake and back in time.

I stretched and glanced in the mirror. I was wearing one of my favorite oversized t-shirts. It featured a cow in 3D glasses and holding a bag of popcorn saying, "Moo-vie night!". My long brown hair was knotted, and currently sticking out in odd places. I looked like I had been struck by lightening.

But more importantly I looked ordinary. Like a girl who could easily blend into the crowd. I was like the embodiment of human camouflage.

 I sleepily grabbed my swimsuit from my closet.

I was out on the dock a few moments later looking at the black water.

I cringed at the thought of the cold water, but there was no better cure for a hangover.

Laying my towel and phone on the dock, I took the step off of the dock.

It was cold. Like really, REALLY cold. But it felt good.

Under water, the silence was nice. It was as if nothing else mattered. In the darkness, it was just me and the numb silence. I cherished that moment until eventually, the burning in my lungs was unavoidable and calling for attention.

I kicked off the sandy bottom and burst through surface.

I pushed my hair back out of my eyes and turned around to face the faint outline of the trees in the distance.

Setting my vision on a large boulder on the other side of the lake I set off.

I was making a good pace, but after 30 minutes my arms burned and my legs felt numb.

This is why I did this. The pain. The exhaustion. The feeling of being alive and the chance of not making it back to that lonely, stupid, shallow house that I called a home.

I swam feverishly across the lake, my arms and legs moving swiftly and smoothly until eventually the large boulder I had seen from before was a stroke away.

My whole body hurt as my fingers clung to the large boulder.

That was the part of it that was risky. Getting across the lake was painful. Getting back felt hopeless.