Chapter 1
The breaking sound echo’s through my bones, my lungs burning with hope of making it back to the surface. Water replaces the oxygen faster and faster pushing me deeper and deeper. The once beautiful yellow coral reef now glows red with the skin that used to be on my back. Salt burns into the wound while I frantically push myself up. I scream. Thunder drowns me out the water engulfs me and I accept its invite.
Water is a peculiar thing. If we don’t drink it we die, if we get stuck in it we drown, and yet we still try not to “waste” water as much as possible like there isn’t enough in the world considering California might not even be land anymore.
It might be from the trauma or it may be from the ideocracy of the world, but I try to avoid it at all costs, which as you can imagine causes problems living in a sunny town but I try to eat the most hydration foods, I cheat hydration is what I say. Although it does get dangerous at points I’m incapable of drinking water straight up without having a panic attack and major anxiety even hours after drinking. I can’t fix it.
My soft white rug doesn’t feel nearly as soft as when I first purchased it, from all the crumbs, dirt, and procrastination to vacuum it slowly looses it’s softness. If I had known you had to take care of rugs I wouldn’t have bought one for my side of the room in the first place.
“Hey look she’s not dead,” Eliette states looking up from laptop which illuminates her face to the point where she’s squinting just to read the text.
“I wish, but sadly no,” I reply walking over to the cereal boxes pouring myself a bowl . Normally people talk about how weird they’re roommate is, but I’m the one Eliette talks about she practically has no weird quirks about her. She’s there for college and nothing else.
I down the bowl of dry cereal leaving the roof of my mouth in shreds. Pull on a black tank top and an oversized jacket leaving on my sweats. I brush my hair to the best of my ability, ending up just throwing it up into a ponytail, and run out the door.
I can make it on time right? Class starts at 10:00 and it’s only 10:15 I can make it if I really try. The class had already started and they’re was already writing on the board in which I had yet to understand.
After class my fingers ached from the rapid typing needed to catch up to the rest of the class. I barely know most of which is now on my “study” google doc, I head over to the Starbucks to sort through my notes.
I probably look like a troll considering how fast I needed to get to class so a strong coffee will do me well. I open my laptop to the 4 pages of notes I took basically anything I could write down.
I’m about halfway through the notes before I finish my coffee and get to bored to do anymore. I head back to my dorm, I forgot my key so I knock on the door. A bunch of shuffling noises respond and Eliette answers the door. “What do you need?” she asks hiding behind the door “Umm, one I live here two I am just dropping off my laptop,” I hold out the bag to her just enough so that she would have to reach exposing her bare shoulders. “Carry on,” I state giving her a smug grin as I walk away.
I plug my headphones into my ear and start blasting music. Music is my only escape, it’s the only thing that allows me to daydream in peace, otherwise people will think I am purposefully not listening to their conversations when really I just get stuck in my own head.
Walking across campus until I reach my favorite bench I’ve found the perfect route so I don’t run into any of the many water fountains decorating the campus. I pull out a book to read, I never actually get any reading done because everyone else’s lives just seem so interesting. Like “cute” couples who walk by talking about drama and parties and gossip, I thought all that shit was finished in Highschool, now its just grown adults gossiping instead of awkward pubescents, if you could even call these people grown adults.
I don’t even understand why I need a degree I mean it’s not like you have to have a journalism degree to write books or be a journalist, and its not like they check anyways. Sometimes I ask myself stupid questions to make sure I still know myself, like hey Claire what is your favorite color? Hey Claire want to go sit on a bench creepily listening to other peoples conversations? Hey Claire how do you feel about dea...
Somebody taps my shoulder and takes a seat next to me. Oak brown eyes and chocolate hair, I hate blue eyed people mainly because the most common way to flirt is referring they’re eyes to the sea that you could swim in for forever. “Can I help you?”
“Hi I’m Spencer,” he holds out a hand expecting me to shake it, but shaking somebodies hand whom you’ve first met is giving them a little bit of trust, I don’t like trust. “Hello, can I help you?” still being cautious “Yeah um, I was just wondering if you would like to go grab lunch or something?” we sit there for a moment as I contemplate my decisions “I don’t think that would be the best idea sorry,” he looks like a nice guy but I know better then to get caught up with those type of people. The cover they’re true self with a mask of kindness till pretty soon you find out you’ve shared a bed with a narcissist. We stay sitting there for a minute, this shows that I made the right decision to turn him down because I’m the one who gets up first to get away.
My phone buzzes in my pocket.
“Hey, Eliette, what do you need?”
“Ok so there’s this party tonight and...”
“I hate parties, it’s just an excuse for underaged irresponsible people to get drunk and hook up with everybody there,”
“Ok I know but it’s a super cute guy and Darla can’t come because she’s throwing her brains up from the sushi she ate last night, I won’t make you talk to any guys you stick with me the entire time just as my wingman,”
“You probably just want to get drunk and need a designated driver,”
“That to but I really like him please, I’ll pay you”
“Fine but I am not letting you get to tipsy and if anyone so much as looks at me the wrong way I’m out of there with or without you,”
I hang up the phone still upset at how she could talk me into going. Maybe I just need one more chance at convincing myself my life isn’t terrible.
