Sequel: My Teenage Romance ›
Status: Completed
Rock Star Father
Dreaming
The dream….
“What the….What’s all of this!?” Celeste demanded of her best friend.
“Oh, y’know, just some stuff, anti-depressants, some prescription ones, that stuff.” A medium height, skinny girl with silvery-blonde hair thrown into a ponytail and matching eyes set into a pale-ish, long-ish thin face replied casually lounging on her mahogany frame double bed with a blue polka-dot bedspread and matching pillowcases.
“ALL of them are anti-depressants?! Surely you don’t need so much, Rox?” Celeste exclaimed, looking through the contents of the blue polka-dot cupboard.
“Well, it stops me running out. And some days I feel like climbing out the window and jumping, so I need to take an extra dose on those days.” Roxanne (for that was who the girl was) replied casually.
“You know why I’m not taking pills, besides the fact that you’re the only person who knows that I get depressed at all? Because I can get happy another way and it’s not that feeling you get from being high! You wanna know what my way is?” Roxanne nodded vigorously. “Music. Music; good music that is, can make you feel any emotion from wanting to die to wanting to kiss the person who made it. I just listen to songs that make me feel happy and that’s all. And it’s not artificial, chemical happiness, even though I listen to My Chemical Romance. It’s one-hundred-percent real. You should try it, even if Boots would be loosing their best customer.” At this, Roxanne stopped fiddling with the hole in her black-and-white-striped woolen top, which she was wearing with a pair of dark blue cotton trousers and white socks, snorted with laughter and replied,
“That’s the biggest load of utter bulls I’ve heard since someone said Gwen Stefani yodeling was ‘not at all funny’! How the flap can music make you feel happy?! It’s just stupid.”
“In that case you’re saying my emotions are stupid, ‘cause it works for me. Just try it. I can lend or copy you a few CD’s that have songs that really are uplifting.” Celeste persisted.
“No, it won’t work! I don’t want to be mean but it just won’t work!!! Or maybe you enjoy seeing me in pain!!! That’s why you hang around with me so often!! Sadistic bleep, I don’t see how I was so blind!”
“Roxanne Mary Vagen, you’re being stupidly paranoid. I’m your best friend, seeing you in pain hurts me more than anything else I’ve ever known, and I hang around with you so often because you’re the person I prefer hanging with, okay!” Celeste cried, sensing an argument and bowing her head slightly, pretending to look at her clothes, a black button-up shirt, black casual trousers, black socks and black-and-white Vans (shoes).
“Well either way it won’t work!!!!!! So stop trying ‘cause it WON’T WORK!!!!” Roxanne screamed.
“I JUST DON’T WANT YOU HOOKED ON PROZAC AND SWIMMING IN A POOL OF DESPAIR, PILLS AND ALCOHOLISM!! IF YOU DON’T STOP NOW WHO KNOWS WHERE IT COULD GO!!!!!!!” Celeste screeched back, fueled by anger, sadness and pity.
“WELL SCREW YOU IT’S NOT GONNA HAPPEN SO STOP TRYING, IDIOT!!!!!!” Roxanne was now very angry.
“YOU NEVER LEARN, DO YOU? YOU CAN STOP NOW AND LIVE A BETTER LIFE! I’M ONLY TRYING TO FLAMING HELP YOU!!!!”
“WELL I DON’T WANT HELP SO SHUT UP AND LEAVE ME ALONE!!!!!”
“FINE THEN I WILL GO! SEE YOU ON MONDAY, UNLESS YOU’VE BECOME SO HOOKED ON THIS POISON THAT YOU HAVE TO SKIP SCHOOL TO GET MORE!!!” And with that Celeste stormed out of Roxanne’s blue polka-dot bedroom, fuming, grabbed her coat, thanked Mr. and Mrs. Vagen for having her and stormed out into the rain, where the tears that had started falling were camouflaged by the raindrops.
“What the….What’s all of this!?” Celeste demanded of her best friend.
“Oh, y’know, just some stuff, anti-depressants, some prescription ones, that stuff.” A medium height, skinny girl with silvery-blonde hair thrown into a ponytail and matching eyes set into a pale-ish, long-ish thin face replied casually lounging on her mahogany frame double bed with a blue polka-dot bedspread and matching pillowcases.
“ALL of them are anti-depressants?! Surely you don’t need so much, Rox?” Celeste exclaimed, looking through the contents of the blue polka-dot cupboard.
“Well, it stops me running out. And some days I feel like climbing out the window and jumping, so I need to take an extra dose on those days.” Roxanne (for that was who the girl was) replied casually.
“You know why I’m not taking pills, besides the fact that you’re the only person who knows that I get depressed at all? Because I can get happy another way and it’s not that feeling you get from being high! You wanna know what my way is?” Roxanne nodded vigorously. “Music. Music; good music that is, can make you feel any emotion from wanting to die to wanting to kiss the person who made it. I just listen to songs that make me feel happy and that’s all. And it’s not artificial, chemical happiness, even though I listen to My Chemical Romance. It’s one-hundred-percent real. You should try it, even if Boots would be loosing their best customer.” At this, Roxanne stopped fiddling with the hole in her black-and-white-striped woolen top, which she was wearing with a pair of dark blue cotton trousers and white socks, snorted with laughter and replied,
“That’s the biggest load of utter bulls I’ve heard since someone said Gwen Stefani yodeling was ‘not at all funny’! How the flap can music make you feel happy?! It’s just stupid.”
“In that case you’re saying my emotions are stupid, ‘cause it works for me. Just try it. I can lend or copy you a few CD’s that have songs that really are uplifting.” Celeste persisted.
“No, it won’t work! I don’t want to be mean but it just won’t work!!! Or maybe you enjoy seeing me in pain!!! That’s why you hang around with me so often!! Sadistic bleep, I don’t see how I was so blind!”
“Roxanne Mary Vagen, you’re being stupidly paranoid. I’m your best friend, seeing you in pain hurts me more than anything else I’ve ever known, and I hang around with you so often because you’re the person I prefer hanging with, okay!” Celeste cried, sensing an argument and bowing her head slightly, pretending to look at her clothes, a black button-up shirt, black casual trousers, black socks and black-and-white Vans (shoes).
“Well either way it won’t work!!!!!! So stop trying ‘cause it WON’T WORK!!!!” Roxanne screamed.
“I JUST DON’T WANT YOU HOOKED ON PROZAC AND SWIMMING IN A POOL OF DESPAIR, PILLS AND ALCOHOLISM!! IF YOU DON’T STOP NOW WHO KNOWS WHERE IT COULD GO!!!!!!!” Celeste screeched back, fueled by anger, sadness and pity.
“WELL SCREW YOU IT’S NOT GONNA HAPPEN SO STOP TRYING, IDIOT!!!!!!” Roxanne was now very angry.
“YOU NEVER LEARN, DO YOU? YOU CAN STOP NOW AND LIVE A BETTER LIFE! I’M ONLY TRYING TO FLAMING HELP YOU!!!!”
“WELL I DON’T WANT HELP SO SHUT UP AND LEAVE ME ALONE!!!!!”
“FINE THEN I WILL GO! SEE YOU ON MONDAY, UNLESS YOU’VE BECOME SO HOOKED ON THIS POISON THAT YOU HAVE TO SKIP SCHOOL TO GET MORE!!!” And with that Celeste stormed out of Roxanne’s blue polka-dot bedroom, fuming, grabbed her coat, thanked Mr. and Mrs. Vagen for having her and stormed out into the rain, where the tears that had started falling were camouflaged by the raindrops.