Chapter 1
Carter didn’t need anyone to tell him that he was difficult. He believed it already, from the countless times his parents had said that. Top it off with his friends, well they were joking but it still hurt. He lay in his bed, completely engulfed with staring at the ceiling tiles. His ceiling fan shook, as it spun round and round in an endless circle. Carter sometimes stared at the fan and wondered if its blades ever got tired of doing the same old thing every time it got hot, or when he just wanted background noise. But to be fair, it was one of the many weird thoughts that crossed his mind. Carter stares at the ceiling when his phone buzzes. He leaned over to grab it from his dresser. He checked the notification. It was from his teacher, congratulating him for scoring top on their summative essay.
“Dear mister Smith, you have the top marks for the whole grade. I hope you do like having education at this college. Because the school is better with you here, enjoy your weekend.” -Mrs. Kragg.
Cater reads over that email once more. Before shutting his phone. His father’s charity gala is tomorrow, and Carter would not be able to feel proud of himself. His sister would steal all the spotlight, his father would brag. His mother would drink, and he would be pushed into the shadows. He sighs, and falls back on his bed. His phone buzzed once again.
He exhaled sharply, not wanting to look at it at the moment. He rubbed his hands over his eyes, trying to clear the sleep out of his brain. Carter grumbled, as his phone kept buzzing, buzzing and buzzing. Only his friends and his sister ever texted this late. He knew it wasn’t his sister, if she had wanted something, she would have barged into his room. Or just called and screamed at him, like usual. He opened his phone then, tired and fed up with the constant buzzing. He glanced at the group chat, his ‘friends’ were blowing it up. Talking about the new frat parties they were going to, and the girls they had screwed. Carter only hung out with them when it got bad and he wanted to blow off steam. He never actually talked to them sober. He would reply to the GC but that would be it. He glanced at the alarm clock resting peacefully on the desk.
“God, why can’t my life be normal?” He groaned, trying to ward away the potential feeling of a headache.
Obviously there was no answer, not from the god he didn’t believe in. Or from his so called ‘guardian angel’ that had ‘saved’ him from an attempted assassination, and his suicide attempt. He didn’t want to think about that right now though. His stomach growled, but he ignored it. He would eat at the party. At breakfast tomorrow he would just pick and move his food around the plate like always. As his father droned on about politics. His sister trying to get under his skin once more, and their mother drinking herself to the bottom of her wine glass. He knows, no one in this house cares about him. The young maids try pushing themselves onto him, he always ignores them. Not seeing the point. He knows they just want the money, and the s*x. He rolls over and checks the GC which is still blowing up.
Nate: YOOO yall hear about the sick new party?
An instant reply by Zachary.
Zach: YES. Hey Carter, will you be our ride? PLS. 🙁
Carter responds, growing slightly annoyed.
ME: Why? You guys have cars.
The group chat blew up then, with responses from Emily, and the others.
Emily: But you owe us!
ME: How so?
Zach: Because! We saved your ass from being expelled last year!
Carter finally relents seeing no point in fighting.
ME: Fine whatever
ME: When is the party?
Nate: Tomorrow at midnight.
Carter clenched his jaw.
ME: Sorry I can’t. I have this gala thing for my dad.
Nate: PLS CARTER!
Emily: You’re the only one with the lamborghini.
Zach: YEAH! Make us look cool!
ME: Jesus, fine. I’ll cut the gala short then.
Emily: TYY!!!
Carter closes the GC. He goes and texts his father.
ME: Hey dad, what time is the gala for tomorrow?
Dad: At 9:30pm, and goes until 12:30. You better not be late, because we are not driving your sorry ass.
With that, Carter clenched his jaw, but didn’t respond. Instead he closed his phone. He rolled back onto his side, and turned off the light. Transforming the room into complete darkness. He set his alarm for 7:00 AM. So he could get up, and go on his morning run. He took some of his sleeping pills, downed them dry. And let his head settle.
7:00 AM came too soon. He groaned, as he let the beeping wake him up for a solid three minutes.
“Shut that damn thing off!” His sister screamed through the wall.
He obliged by turning the ringing alarm off. He sat up and stretched out his sore shoulders, and legs. Carter got up then, changing out of his brown teddy bear pajamas into his running shorts, compression shirt. He walked into his adjoining bathroom. He glanced in the mirror and didn’t recognize the person he saw staring back at him. Before his attempt, and the attempted murder. His green eyes had been full of life.
Now they looked like a dead deer. Who had stared into the last headlights of death. His eyes had bags under them, his brown hair was messy and sticking up into all different directions. He glanced at the contacts on the bathroom sink, he sighed, and glanced back at himself in the mirror. He then placed the contacts in his dry eyes. The contact changed his eye color to bright distant blue. He needed to wear them, because he needed to hide what he really looked like. He grabbed the wig from the drawer. He tucked his short hair into a very small ponytail. As he put the wig over his hair.
