Our Dysfunctional Support Group: Chapters 1-4

Chapter One

I look around everyday, and wherever I go, all I see is them. The ones who you’ll only ever now as that one girl who was “pretty nice”. The people who barely show a fraction of who they are, and fade in with the rest. They, are all just missed opportunities, wasting their time away as a phantasm. Every individual is born with more than the right to be a person. They are born to be a character. So many chose to throw away so much of their time trying to fit in before they realize they need to be themselves, be who they want to be, not what society wants them to be. It’s sad, truly. Some people never leave they uniform lifes, and they think they live a happy life, but never truly what they could’ve done. And I used to be one of them.

“Daydreaming again, Mr. Wright?”

My head immediately shifts away from the rectangular classroom window and towards a frustrated but not very surprised Mr. Nerrian.

“Well, one more time this week, and you’ll land yourself in detention, again.” he remarks snarkily. I let out a quiet sigh underneath my breath, and pretend to pay attention to Chemical Compounds until the liberating ring of the bell echoes through the room. As I dart out of the room, I see her leaning against the outside of my dented locker.

“Wow, walking out of chemistry without a detention slip, are we? That’s out of the ordinary.” She sarcastically remarks. We proceed to pace down the white and forest-green tile of the hallways quickly.

“Oh, well don’t get your hopes up, Sam. So how’s um, life, I guess?” I awkwardly question. "Yeah, nice one Damian." I think to myself. She scoffs.

“Eh, same as usual, school, study, eat, and sleep. Well I guess that’s just everybody’s life on the week before finals.”

We continue to chat as we squeeze and push through the overly-dense hallways of Jordan Smith High School. As we exit the mob of students and harshly push open the glass door, I take in a deep breath. The school parking lot is still mostly full, with the vice principal's shiny, red Audi looking very out of place, especially being across from the clearly used and weathered senior parking lot. Sam’s house is right down the street from mine, so she walks home with me most days. She and I stride down the uncracked sidewalks, and past the elegant lampposts reflecting the deep orange setting sun behind us. I can barely recall when we met, or how exactly we came to be friends, maybe it’s because we’re neighbors. Maybe it’s because nobody else would be our friend. Maybe it just happened. I take a moment and look at her soft, rounded cheeks, and wide smile, and her short red hair tied back. I never really realized how pretty she was, but I guess that's just sort of the case with friends. A flash of red and blue speeds past us, and I jump.

“Woah, settle down there, just a cop car.” She mocks.

I look at her smooth, bright face, and see they smirk fade away from her mouth, and her eyes fill with panic.

“Hey, are you okay…?” I ask. She just points. Points in front of us to an ambulance, which also is parked where the police car is stopped. My home.

Chapter Two

+ + +

6 months later

My clouded vision slowly clears as I pry my eyelids open, to see a familiar face, and not a very happy one. Her furrowed brows highlight the displeasure in her expression.

"Where the hell have you been?!?"

All I let out is a little distressed grunt before I see the back of her hand flying full-speed-ahead at my cheek.

"Ouch." I mumble.

Her eyes are shadowed with a soft tone of red, and she is nearly screaming at me now.

"DO YOU HAVE ANY GODDAMN IDEA HOW LONG I'VE BEEN LOOKING FOR YOU?” she screams at me. “After four weeks the police just, stopped caring. One word would've been enough, Damian. One text, one note, that's all it would've taken."

She's almost in tears now, and I feel like letting her talk more wouldn't be for the better.

"Well, I'm alive, and I'm doing just fine, trust me, you can leave." I mutter. I lazily swing my arm to the right, blindly searching for another glass bottle, but all that sits there is a pile of empty ones. "I swear, I'm fine, you don't worry 'bout me."

"Are those beers?! Damn, Damian, this isn't "fine" at all right now. You're drinking in your old abandoned house, hiding away from everybody."

I start to daze away, but she grabs me by the collar of my stained t-shirt and looks straight at me. You know I almost stopping looking. I hoped that maybe you just, left, that after everything that happened six months ago that you'd gone to make a new life for yourself, and so every time I searched, I was always hoping that I wouldn't find you like.....this. Because this isn't a life that you're living! You hide away and drink away your sorrows because you're afraid that you aren't ready for normal times again, but you don't realize that this isn't going to get better. You've lost all your friends and family that would support you. Except one. And I'd advise you follow her before she's gone too." She thinks she can help me, but I'm such a wreck, I'll certainly just being bringing my only friend down with the sinking ship that is myself. No. This is my last chance to escape this downward spiral. I extend my dirt-coated hand, and grasp hers as she lifts me up to my feet. "Let's go." She commands. I don't ask where we're going, or why, because I know that it's not the journey or the destination, it's the company you travel with.

Chapter Three

It's nearly eleven in the morning, and Sam leads me out the frosted glass front door of my house and right up to a jet black Tesla.

"Dang Sam, how'd you even afford this...?" I suspiciously question. She just smirks and keeps walking. "You didn't kill a guy did you?" She keeps walking.

"Oh my god, you killed a guy didn't you?" I conclude. As she pulls open the door and hops behind the leather-accented steering wheel. "No man or woman was harmed in achieving this beauty, so chill out." She finally speaks. I silently wonder how in the world she's able to afford a freaking sports car. The smooth wheels of the vehicle speedily rotate, and I barely notice a few minutes later when we pull into her driveway. "You sure your parents will be fine with me here? Or just me in general to be honest..." I ask.

She turns her head slightly to respond as she pulls at the key.

"Out on a "business" trip in New Zealand."The door finally gives way. "So, that means we got the whole place to ourselves." She cheerfully announces while spreading her arms out to the large living room. “Enough talk about parents, I have a feeling that’s a bit of a…..sensitive topic for you right now.” We make a bee-line for the couch and she grabs the gray remote. Her fingers slide across the faded buttons, and the bold red script that reads 'Netflix' comes to life on the screen.

"To be honest, I thought we'd be going on some great adventure or something, like in a 'John Green' book or something, but this is cool too." I remark.

"Yeah, sorry about that." She sympathizes, with her mouth half-full with Doritos. "I'm really not one for twenty-three hour road trips with a disappointing ending." She scrolls through a seemingly endless queue, and I giggle to myself. She sweeps her ginger hair off her shoulder. "Oh no." She says, already prepared for some awful joke. "What is it now?" I just point to the screen and say "Netflix and chill." I say.

"Oh, sick Damian!" She loudly says and playfully punches my shoulder. We just kinda sit there and make crappy puns as an episode of "The Office" runs in the background. The slowing sinking sun’s rays that flow through the windows reminds me of that same orange sun six months ago.

“Hey, you hungry?” Sam questions. Now that she mentions it, I’m actually starving. “Uh, yeah sure. What do you want?”

She slides her chipped fingernails across a local business phone book.

“How about we pick up some pizzas?” she recommends. I nod. My feet are moving faster and faster as it truly dawns on me the intensity of my hunger.

Without even thinking Sam throws the cluttered key ring towards me.

“Don’t mind if I do!” I say excitingly. We quickly shuffle into the four-door Tesla, and I twist the key in the ignition. Sam immediately syncs her phone up to the radio and blares our favorite band’s album as we speed down Emerald Avenue. Our truly horrendous singing voices echo down the street as we sing along, and within minutes pull into Furigno’s Pizza. I approach the counter and order way more food than I’ll ever eat, when I recall something. Something not very good. “Sam….?” I ask, my voice shaking softly.

“Yeah, what is it?”

“Did you lock the car door?”

Chapter Four

Well, Sam just let out a barrage of quite vulgar language, and now we’re bolting out the door. A dark silhouette scrambles around inside the rear of the sports car. Sam, (still blurting unpleasant things) throws open the door. I decide to take a step back, because from various occasions, I know that the burglar should be very afraid. Within seconds, I hear a high-pitched yelp, and see an unknown man dawning black clothes roll out onto the pavement. I motion for Sam to back off, but she is quite invested in attacking this poor soul with a windshield squeegee. She finally yields, and the burglar scrambles to his feet. His hood has slid off his head exposing a young man, no older than 20, with short blonde hair and thick-framed Ray-Bans. He starts to run, but immediately trips over himself and falls to the ground. And his leg falls off. We both rush over to him, and start to lift him back up.

“You know you really suck at being a burglar.” I remark.

“Oh no….” he painfully mutters as Sam approaches, detached leg in hand. I can hear a thick Indian accent in his shaky voice.

"Seriously?!" She asks furiously. "I freaking poor thief with a prosthetic leg?! Now for some stupid reasons I'm feeling sympathy for you...."

So far this is all I have written, thanks for reading, I plan to publish more if I get feedback.