Let's Just Forget

They were different. They didn't belong. They knew that. They also knew that within minutes they would have to face one of the biggest decisions of their lives. Minutes. Seconds. 30 seconds. 20 seconds. 10 seconds. "But..." "We can't afford to think!" 9 seconds. "What if this isn't the right thing?" "It's our call" "I know that." 8 seconds. "What would happen if we stayed?" "We'd die unhappy" "Exactly." 7 seconds. "Make a fucking choice!" "Quit yelling at me! I'm doing my best!" 6 seconds. "This is the right thing" "Is it though?" 5 seconds. "Yes! We don't belong here" "You say that like I don't already know." 4 seconds. "Why should I leave?" "Because they don't deserve you!" he screamed. 3 seconds. "They're here." they both peered in the rear view mirror. 2 seconds. "What do I do?" 1 second. "Go."

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1. When You're Just Different

Their glances locked into place from opposite corners of the room. He was playing a small minuscule grin across those pink lips of his, she was having none of it. Her eyes were cast the other way into the darkness. Maybe she just didn't seem him. Or maybe she thought he was just like the rest.

    It was when they both noticed their irregular heart beats that they realised they didn't belong there. She was invited out of pity and he was invited for the stuff that made the night. They both didn’t really want to be there at all.

   It was a strange atmosphere in Elizabeth’s party that evening. The lighting was low and you couldn’t even see three feet in front of your face. Also meaning that the violent headbangers which flopped around the dancefloor carelessly, had a habit of bashing into you multiple times within the same hour.

 

Everyone here was different to these two individuals.

They were either just too normal or just too unique.

    

It had been a while since either of them had just let loose, every other person there seemed to be professionals judging by the way they threw themselves onto the dance floor. Or maybe they were just winging it like they were. Who knew the amount of thought it took into knowing the right move to make at a party for gods sake.

      She sighed. It hadn’t been the first time that night. Everything about this place seemed completely wrong. It was just down to the fact that she didn’t belong there. She knew that all too well. What did it take for her to finally just fit in?

    

Fitting in wasn’t a possibility for him.

 

His eyes were cast down to the ebony floorboards of the shack. He began debating why on earth teenagers found this so amusing. It was completely and utterly boring.

   

  “Hey, I know! Let’s go into the woods, find an abandoned cabin big enough to hold 200 people surprisingly and put on some really loud music, get drunk, get drunk passed the point of consent and then remember none of it in the morning.”

 

Sounds great.

 

He already regretted saying yes to the group text he received this morning. It seemed like a good idea at the time. That’s when everything seemed alright and he had started making friends in this dump of a town. That’s when he didn’t realise the reason he was making ‘friends’ so quickly.

      Green stuff. Cannabis. Weed. Joint. Whatever you wanted to call it. That plant that Satan himself created just to watch the pathetic humans find an escape route from responsibilities and duties.

He knew where to get it. He had the money to get it. It just clearly didn’t interest him. Not even in the slightest. What could he possibly gain from something so pointless and stupid? What was there to get? To get stoned? No thank you.

      The girl across the room looked oddly unfamiliar to him. He knew everyone in Whitmire. She must have been a latest addition to this crappy resort in the middle of nowhere. Only outcasts came here. She didn’t look particularly shamed or rejected. Not that he’d know what that looked like. But whatever it was, it surely wasn’t her.

    She held herself up with the rickety wall of the shack. Her once red worn out converse with the laces tucked in, her black jeans with the rips dotted here and there that weren’t there when she’d bought them and the thick white jumper she wore over her denim shirt were all completely irrelevant to him.

 

He only cared about her.

 

She seemed different. Different from all these drunk, stoned, low lives that scattered the room in a swaying storm. She didn’t look comfortable there. He didn’t either come to think of it.

   He felt the uncontrollable urge to run over, tell her to run away. Tell her to run as fast as she can to anywhere else but here. She was young, free, oblivious to the wrong-doers. And that was 10x hotter than anything other slutty piece of shit in this room.

  The track changed to something that sounded like all the rest. Thumping, tuneless, repeated melody. It felt hypnotic. It was clearly the last straw for her. Pushing away from the wall, she turned away from the party and began striding straight for the snapped door frame. Her final decision was made, she hated all of these people. The look on her face said it all.

He couldn’t agree more.

He stood straight.

He headed straight for the door.

He gave it one last look.

He turned away and into the night.

He never regretted it.

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