Contagious
Chapter Three
Chapter Three
Ryden’s POV
“Fuck you!!!” I screamed as I slammed my bedroom door. Fuck her, fuck him, fuck it all! I’m sick and tired of this shit! I really am.
First, I’m dragged off from my big comfy couch in sunny California, to cold, in the middle of nowhere Pennsylvania. What’s up with that? We’ve lived in California for two fucking years, and we were doing just fine, and then my “problem” got in the way. You never gave a shit about my problems until now! Don’t you think moving to a drastic change made it worse?
Then, you took me to that place. They call that rehab? Psh. That was nothing like the one’s Greg and Jackson tried back in California. They sent me letters. They told me how dirty it was, and how many fights they got in. I went to visit them, and boy, was in hell! But what would I know about hell anyway? Apparently, I don’t know anything, especially how to make good choices! You seem to emphasize that a little too much!
At least now I can relax. Find my runaway mind in the one place I wanted to go: The Club. Luckily, there’s a couple in Plainfield, near the college’s full of frat parties and raves. Hell, there’s even a few good places here! But you never realized I’d find them, did you? You think I’m too much of a dumbass.
I think you thought too much of me when I was little. You always called me a “prodigy,” when all you kept was B- report cards and messy finger paintings. What’s so great about me? The fact I can make a fake report card in less than five minutes? The fact I can glow stick better than those who have trained for years? I don’t think so. But like you’ve always said, I could be wrong. I don’t know.
What I do know is that the second I get my diploma, I’m out of here. On my way to the big cities, like New York and Atlanta. Somewhere where I can touch, smell, and even taste the danger. I wanna meet a girl that puts the color inside my world. More color than all of the glow sticks combined. I want more than this.
“Ryden?” you said through the door, “Can we talk?”
“No,” I replied. Then, something caught my eye.
An envelope, white and unwrinkled, lay on my night stand. I reached out and picked it up, holding it in my hands for several minutes before I flipped it over to find it open. I pulled out the paper slowly.
“Ryden?”
On it, was a flyer. A flyer to a party with more spark than a firefly’s ass. I read the address on the flyer over and over again.
“Ryden, please open the door.”
I knew this place. The abandoned mansion on East First Street. I passed it every day on my way to the Seven Eleven to get coffee and cigarettes. It was easy to get into, and everyone knew it’s history. It was once and old church, but was later restored into a crap ass house no one ever bought. Was it right have drugs, sex, and booze under the roof of God?
“Ryden, please!”
It’s not like he’d mind. He’s letting us do the same shit on his planet, why not in his old house? Hell yeah, it’s okay.
“Ryden, are you even in there?”
I memorized the address over and over, ripping the paper up into shreds and burning the remains with my burning cigarette butt. I opened the window and let the breeze in. It tossed my black hair playfully. I looked out into the night. Is someone waiting for me?
“Ryden, get out here. Now.”
I slipped out onto the window ledge, making my way onto the tree branch below. I stood on top of the world for several seconds and looked back at my window. The doorknob rattled. You’ll never get in. It’s double locked, as always. And only i have the other key.
“RYDEN!!!”
I jumped down twenty feet from the tree branch to the ground. Landing in a squatted position, I began to sprint towards the party, ready to meet danger, with one thought on my mind:
Fuck you Mom....
Ryden’s POV
“Fuck you!!!” I screamed as I slammed my bedroom door. Fuck her, fuck him, fuck it all! I’m sick and tired of this shit! I really am.
First, I’m dragged off from my big comfy couch in sunny California, to cold, in the middle of nowhere Pennsylvania. What’s up with that? We’ve lived in California for two fucking years, and we were doing just fine, and then my “problem” got in the way. You never gave a shit about my problems until now! Don’t you think moving to a drastic change made it worse?
Then, you took me to that place. They call that rehab? Psh. That was nothing like the one’s Greg and Jackson tried back in California. They sent me letters. They told me how dirty it was, and how many fights they got in. I went to visit them, and boy, was in hell! But what would I know about hell anyway? Apparently, I don’t know anything, especially how to make good choices! You seem to emphasize that a little too much!
At least now I can relax. Find my runaway mind in the one place I wanted to go: The Club. Luckily, there’s a couple in Plainfield, near the college’s full of frat parties and raves. Hell, there’s even a few good places here! But you never realized I’d find them, did you? You think I’m too much of a dumbass.
I think you thought too much of me when I was little. You always called me a “prodigy,” when all you kept was B- report cards and messy finger paintings. What’s so great about me? The fact I can make a fake report card in less than five minutes? The fact I can glow stick better than those who have trained for years? I don’t think so. But like you’ve always said, I could be wrong. I don’t know.
What I do know is that the second I get my diploma, I’m out of here. On my way to the big cities, like New York and Atlanta. Somewhere where I can touch, smell, and even taste the danger. I wanna meet a girl that puts the color inside my world. More color than all of the glow sticks combined. I want more than this.
“Ryden?” you said through the door, “Can we talk?”
“No,” I replied. Then, something caught my eye.
An envelope, white and unwrinkled, lay on my night stand. I reached out and picked it up, holding it in my hands for several minutes before I flipped it over to find it open. I pulled out the paper slowly.
“Ryden?”
On it, was a flyer. A flyer to a party with more spark than a firefly’s ass. I read the address on the flyer over and over again.
“Ryden, please open the door.”
I knew this place. The abandoned mansion on East First Street. I passed it every day on my way to the Seven Eleven to get coffee and cigarettes. It was easy to get into, and everyone knew it’s history. It was once and old church, but was later restored into a crap ass house no one ever bought. Was it right have drugs, sex, and booze under the roof of God?
“Ryden, please!”
It’s not like he’d mind. He’s letting us do the same shit on his planet, why not in his old house? Hell yeah, it’s okay.
“Ryden, are you even in there?”
I memorized the address over and over, ripping the paper up into shreds and burning the remains with my burning cigarette butt. I opened the window and let the breeze in. It tossed my black hair playfully. I looked out into the night. Is someone waiting for me?
“Ryden, get out here. Now.”
I slipped out onto the window ledge, making my way onto the tree branch below. I stood on top of the world for several seconds and looked back at my window. The doorknob rattled. You’ll never get in. It’s double locked, as always. And only i have the other key.
“RYDEN!!!”
I jumped down twenty feet from the tree branch to the ground. Landing in a squatted position, I began to sprint towards the party, ready to meet danger, with one thought on my mind:
Fuck you Mom....