Viva La Gloria II: 21st Century Breakdown

It was almost two in the morning on Saturday, September 2nd. I changed out of my clothes and stood in the middle of my room feeling like an utter dork as I sifted through my clothes for something to wear in my bra and underwear. I thought about something. That iconic white dress I'd worn that one night. Course I wouldn't reach California tonight. Or by tomorrow but I could take it with me.
I debated the possibility of a good, dramatic entrance. Whatever that may be,

I put on old jeans and a plain white tank top, shoving more clothes into my duffle bag and slung it over my shoulder. Then I caught sight of the long white dress I'd worn out to dinner in scottsbluff hanging from a little wire hanger from the corner of the bedroom door. Draped so neatly that I just stood there staring at it. A plan forming in the back of my mind.

They were all very familiar with the dress. The infamous dress. So they'd know it was me when they catch sight of it. A evil grin spread across my face as I grabbed the dress and draped it over my arm and exited my bedroom, softly shutting the door behind me, I walked into the kitchen, turned on the light there and went to grab my car keys off the cabinet when I saw the notepad lying open on the kitchen table. A pen sitting next to the empty page, my mind jumped straight to all the people I'd leave behind by doing this. So I sat down and began to write out my letters to the four closest people in Torrington. 

Myriah, Brook, Cynthia and Adele.

They all mostly said the same things. But one subject I picked out the most clear was how many times I mentioned Billie in each letter. I blushed but shoved each of them into a envelope and sealed them up, shoving them into my backpack, the same one I'd taken during my first outing with Green Day.

I felt lie I'd already spent too much time here, they already had hours heads start on me to California. If I spent too much time here, I'd miss them all together. 

I turned off all the lights, grabbed my jacket off the back of the blue recliner in the living room and headed out the front door, locking up behind me, I was going to deliver my letters first before heading for California. 

It was close to two in the morning, so no one should be awake. Meaning no water works or begging for me to stay. I could do without anymore holdups tonight.

I drove to Myriah's first. The house was very familiar, even in the dark. The moon was out and it lit everything in a bluish haze. I rested my head back against the seat and stared up at the big out sky, all those stars... So small, fragile. When really they aren't there at all. There was no breeze, the night was warm and humid. It was making the stray strands of my hair stick to my face. 

I sighed, I was losing time by stalling here. I dug through my purse for the letter, her name written on the front of it in the most decent cursive handwriting I could manage.

I climbed out of my car, my safe haven, the. I walked slowly towards the front door. Pausing right there, I could knock or just say goodbye. But then again, I remember that when she moved out, she didn't say “I'll miss you.” or “I'll be back, I won't forget you.” or even a simple damn goodbye. No, she hopped in her fucking car, turned up her music so goddamned loud it drowned me out, then she drove away. Leaving me behind without another word. 

I glared at her front door, I jammed the envelope into the doorframe and jogged back towards the car. Climbing in, I started the engine and drove off to Cynthia's. Then up to the dorms at the collage where Adele and Brook currently lived. I walked into the lobby, which was currently vacant of anyone. I left my letters on the front desk, they'd get them in the morning when they come to collect their mail tomorrow.

I went back to my car, started my engine. Fear was building up for what I was about to do. Tears brimmed my eyes as I realized I was doing the same thing Myriah had done. I was leaving everyone I love behind. 

I navigated the empty streets with blurry eyes, and when I got on the highway that goes west, that was my breaking point, they brined over and streaked my cheeks as I disappeared into the night. Leaving Torrington behind. My hometown.

Would I be back? What would it all look like when I did? Would I be rejected by him and told to get the fuck away? Would I cry with he said his venomous words? Probably. I have no hope in my human endurance.