And Now I'm Nothing
It's the Street Name for Heroin, Word Dog!
- Kellin's P.O.V -
"So how was the party?" my mom asked, shooting me a quick warm smile before returning to the breakfast she was making.
I groaned, "I think I'd accidentally over dosed on my Social Anxiety," she stopped moving quickly, looking at me with wide eyes, "That doesn't exist mom," I sighed.
She grinned, "Yeah, I know, it's just- you teenagers have some really creative names for those drugs now a days...Molly and Aunt Hazel, you know?"
"No, I don't actually," I shrugged, "What the hell is an Aunt Hazel?"
You see, my mom worked with teenagers- so she knew all of this stuff from speaking to messed up uninfluenced teenagers on a daily basis. She's what they call a 'counselor' not a school counselor, though- a mental health counselor. The fact that she happened to know more about today's whereabouts than I have ever learned in my sixteen years of life is a bit intimidating, I've learned to live with it. "It's the street name for Heroin, word dog!" she threw a gang sign.
I was quick to grab her hand and push it down, shaking my head slightly, "Mom, no..." I mumbled, a terrified expression on my face.
She shrugged, "Come on, Kellin. We wouldn't have this problem if you went out more!" she was implying something, she was definitely implying something.
"You calling me a loser?" I accused, my tone letting her know I was only kidding. She rolled her eyes, "I mean mom, people nowadays are mean, rude, annoying, and just...I don't have time for that."
"Do you have time for anything?" she asked suddenly, more than likely hinting at the fact that those clothes have yet to be folded- or just taken out of the washing machine in general. What can I say? Nothing.
I bit my lip, contemplating my options, "Fine." I finally spoke, she looked up, "Fine, I'll throw a party. I'll throw a sloth party." I gave her my most convincing look- she shot me a questioning one, "You know, there ain't no party like a sloth party!" I threw my fist up in the air, "Because a sloth party is obviously going to take while..."
"Kellin, I'm sorry to break this to you, but you're not funny," she pursed her lips, giving me a sassy look.
"Excuse you," I scoffed, "I must've inherited your genes," a snort escaped the back of my throat before I could stop it, leaving me there trying to look at my throat- you could probably guess why that didn't work out.
The look she gave me was priceless, "I am plenty funny," she spoke with an offended tone, "You know, sometimes my clients- they need some time to cool off because their laughter makes them cry." she stated cockily, looking at me with an expectant look on her face, was I supposed to top that?
"Mom those are called feels," I rolled my eyes, "You know, when people talk about something sentimental they get feels." I nodded to myself.
She nodded in understanding, "Like when you talk about that band that broke up- nca, something like that?"
"It's MCR mom, and, plus, that's not something you should be bringing up- ever." Oh god, my feels.
Her expression changed quickly, eyes narrowing, eyebrow raised, "M..." she started off, "...C..." she whispered, "...R!" then she just took off running like a child.
Why can't my mom be at least somewhat normal?
-
- Vic's P.O.V -
If the pounding in my head was a roller coaster, it'd be the Formula Rosa. Goddammit, what even happened last night? "Have a nice nap?" Jaime asked, knocking me off my bed, not at all helping the unsettling feeling in my stomach.
I looked up, squeezing my eyes shut quickly, my arms moving up to pull at my hair- a mix between a groan and a screech came out of my mouth- like a walrus..."Turn off the lights!" I yelled, flinching back at the sound of my own voice.
Jaime chuckled from somewhere around my room, "I don't think I could turn off the fucking sun, if that's what you're asking," he spoke, making sure to sound louder than usual.
If I had the opportunity to choose a new set of friends- I would not choose him. "Why are you here?" I muttered, sounding rather annoyed- and in pain.
"Well, if you were able to remember our little bet," he hummed, "Which you probably can't since you got so shit faced, it was not even funny," laughter-the sound of one million Jaime's laughing clouded my mind, "Oh wait- it was." he snorted.
"Can you go be obnoxious somewhere else?" I asked, an my voice dripping with attitude.
Jaime sighed, "Yeah sure, I'll come back later to work this out with you, after you rid of all of those contents in your stomach." I heard a few footsteps, then the sound of my door being slammed shut.
Will I ever get a fucking break?
"So how was the party?" my mom asked, shooting me a quick warm smile before returning to the breakfast she was making.
I groaned, "I think I'd accidentally over dosed on my Social Anxiety," she stopped moving quickly, looking at me with wide eyes, "That doesn't exist mom," I sighed.
She grinned, "Yeah, I know, it's just- you teenagers have some really creative names for those drugs now a days...Molly and Aunt Hazel, you know?"
"No, I don't actually," I shrugged, "What the hell is an Aunt Hazel?"
You see, my mom worked with teenagers- so she knew all of this stuff from speaking to messed up uninfluenced teenagers on a daily basis. She's what they call a 'counselor' not a school counselor, though- a mental health counselor. The fact that she happened to know more about today's whereabouts than I have ever learned in my sixteen years of life is a bit intimidating, I've learned to live with it. "It's the street name for Heroin, word dog!" she threw a gang sign.
I was quick to grab her hand and push it down, shaking my head slightly, "Mom, no..." I mumbled, a terrified expression on my face.
She shrugged, "Come on, Kellin. We wouldn't have this problem if you went out more!" she was implying something, she was definitely implying something.
"You calling me a loser?" I accused, my tone letting her know I was only kidding. She rolled her eyes, "I mean mom, people nowadays are mean, rude, annoying, and just...I don't have time for that."
"Do you have time for anything?" she asked suddenly, more than likely hinting at the fact that those clothes have yet to be folded- or just taken out of the washing machine in general. What can I say? Nothing.
I bit my lip, contemplating my options, "Fine." I finally spoke, she looked up, "Fine, I'll throw a party. I'll throw a sloth party." I gave her my most convincing look- she shot me a questioning one, "You know, there ain't no party like a sloth party!" I threw my fist up in the air, "Because a sloth party is obviously going to take while..."
"Kellin, I'm sorry to break this to you, but you're not funny," she pursed her lips, giving me a sassy look.
"Excuse you," I scoffed, "I must've inherited your genes," a snort escaped the back of my throat before I could stop it, leaving me there trying to look at my throat- you could probably guess why that didn't work out.
The look she gave me was priceless, "I am plenty funny," she spoke with an offended tone, "You know, sometimes my clients- they need some time to cool off because their laughter makes them cry." she stated cockily, looking at me with an expectant look on her face, was I supposed to top that?
"Mom those are called feels," I rolled my eyes, "You know, when people talk about something sentimental they get feels." I nodded to myself.
She nodded in understanding, "Like when you talk about that band that broke up- nca, something like that?"
"It's MCR mom, and, plus, that's not something you should be bringing up- ever." Oh god, my feels.
Her expression changed quickly, eyes narrowing, eyebrow raised, "M..." she started off, "...C..." she whispered, "...R!" then she just took off running like a child.
Why can't my mom be at least somewhat normal?
-
- Vic's P.O.V -
If the pounding in my head was a roller coaster, it'd be the Formula Rosa. Goddammit, what even happened last night? "Have a nice nap?" Jaime asked, knocking me off my bed, not at all helping the unsettling feeling in my stomach.
I looked up, squeezing my eyes shut quickly, my arms moving up to pull at my hair- a mix between a groan and a screech came out of my mouth- like a walrus..."Turn off the lights!" I yelled, flinching back at the sound of my own voice.
Jaime chuckled from somewhere around my room, "I don't think I could turn off the fucking sun, if that's what you're asking," he spoke, making sure to sound louder than usual.
If I had the opportunity to choose a new set of friends- I would not choose him. "Why are you here?" I muttered, sounding rather annoyed- and in pain.
"Well, if you were able to remember our little bet," he hummed, "Which you probably can't since you got so shit faced, it was not even funny," laughter-the sound of one million Jaime's laughing clouded my mind, "Oh wait- it was." he snorted.
"Can you go be obnoxious somewhere else?" I asked, an my voice dripping with attitude.
Jaime sighed, "Yeah sure, I'll come back later to work this out with you, after you rid of all of those contents in your stomach." I heard a few footsteps, then the sound of my door being slammed shut.
Will I ever get a fucking break?