Chapter 1: Closure

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Humor  |  House: Booksie Classic
20 year-old, former party girl has a hard time adjusting to life after she's gone straight. Dealing with the past is difficult when she's forced to deal with her past.

Submitted: May 21, 2012

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Submitted: May 21, 2012



Entry 1: 8:35 p.m.

I am a twenty year old, townie, loser. That is what I am. My life is in shambles. More wine, please. That is all for now.

Entry 2: 9:14 p.m.

I have failed. I have failed my parents, and myself. No, that’s not true, I have failed my mother. My father was expecting this. Not that I would give 1/87th of a shit if he were disappointed in me or not. I don’t think that I have failed myself, either. I think that I gave up on myself a long time ago. I failed school. Not myself. I gave up on myself. I failed school and my mother. Those will be two of the biggest loses that I have ever encountered in my life. If no one were to ever find out about it, I think that I could learn to live with myself. But since everyone will know, I don’t know what I will do. I want to hide under a rock and never ever come out. I’m a loser. Always have been, always will be.

Entry 3: 10:25 p.m.

This major loss has made me want to participate in some serious self-destructive behavior. Like drink, do some drugs, random guys, ect. However, that’s not my life anymore. I got ahold of my life. I can’t slip into old habits. Granit, I’ve almost killed this bottle of wine since I got the email. None of it a severe as it used to be. I mean, I’m not going around ruining relationships I’ve made or anything like that, but tonight I feel like it. Not on purpose. Maybe unintentionally. Some things I know are bad sound pretty good right about now.

Entry 4: 11:30 p.m.

Shouldn’t call him. I’ve been doing really well on that. It’s not good for anyone. But it seems like the right thing to do, to get closure here. I need that, right? Everyone needs closure. Closure is important. Right? That is correct. Closure. It’s important.

Chapter 2: Best Friends

She stumbled through the halls of the extravogent house, champagne flute with sliced strawberries in one hand, iphone in the other. She scrolled through looking for the exact person to text, weighing the outcomes of each option. After much deliberation, she finally made a choice....

A few unitelliecetual respones later..

"Did you mean finishing off a bottle or a glass?"
"... bottle."
"Be over in a few. Bringing Chardonye."

"You get me."

She stood on the luxe cream couch in the living room, flipping her hair back and forth to Tom Petty's, American Girl. She had given up on the champaign flute a while ago and was now drinking straight from the bottle when the doorbell rang. She jumped from the couch and raced, stumbling, to the door. She opened it excitedly.

"It's about time you showed up!."
"What's wrong?" asked her best friend, Olivia.
"Oh, it's nothing. I'm just out of alchohol."
"That bad, huh?"

She led her down the narrow hallowway of the large, empty, household.

Olivia cringed at the music.
"Rolling Stone Pandora is my favorite station, silly." She said running her fingers through Olivia's white-blonde, hair.

"Classic rock isn't really my forte," she saied while attempting to straighten the previously perfect hair.
"Well it's mine," she said while throwing herself upside-down on the 1,000 dollar chair, chugging down the last bit of champengin left.

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