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TWKCC.chapter 4. things happen Six hours later I sat on a rickety folding metal chair in the Slater's home, my head swimming as I sipped on my fourteenth energy drink. A mere foot in front of me Nate Luo was bent towards a glowing computer screen. I was hardly breathing, as though sitting behind him and watching him play archaic computer games was some kind of forbidden act that required utter silence.
"Fuck!" He mumbled under his breath, much to Patrick Slater's amusement. I drew my eyes away from the computer screen every few minutes to catch a casual glimpse of Nate's face as his expression became adorably frustrated. Patrick was about to win again.
"I get to play Patrick next round," Tommy announced as he returned from the kitchen. Patrick's mother, a short, pudgy woman with an undeniable air of maternal instinct and warmth followed him, carrying a platter of cookies. God, cooked food.
"Dear, you look like you have a fever!" She said,
TWKCC. chapter 3. aversions. It was four in the morning, maybe five. The cheap clock on the wall had stopped working around eleven thirty, so I had no way of keeping track of time. I stood up groggily and stumbled across the living room, narrowly avoiding the television. The harsh electric glow of the refridgerator illuminated a strip of linoleum as I reached in
and fumbled around, finally withdrawing a carton of milk.
I rubbed my eyes and opened the front door, breathing deeply. The night air was perfect, so I stepped outside and leaned over the railing to look into the lower-level courtyard. I took a boorish swig from the carton and yawned. A hand landed on my shoulder.
"I didn't know you lived here! You should've told me. I'm on the 3rd floor."
I turned my head and found myself staring into the sharp grey eyes of Holland Young. She smiled her characteristic chimerical grin, which made her look as though she was continually up to no good, an
TWKCC. chapter 2. maudlin. I sat down on the deformed, worn-out couch next to Tommy, and exhaled.
"Stop breathing so loudly," he grunted, stuffing a handful of cashews into his mouth.
"Sorry. What the hell is with this couch, anyway?" I asked. The fabric had soda stains and smelled vaguely like an alleyway. It was, however, ridiculously comfortable.
I eyed Tommy skeptically. They had stolen the couch.
"You guys really should have at least stolen a nicer one," I rolled my eyes.
"Fine! Let's see you do better, " he retorted and his features cracked into an elusive smile.
I leaned back, hauled my bag onto my lap, and rummaged through it to find my first assignment. I had only survived one day of college and already I had 3 papers to write. I decided to work on my psychology essay first. The teacher, one 'Miss Aura Rain Willem', had turned out to be a total cr
A Bloody, Stupid Miracle The day we’d cured the human condition was the day I put a bullet through my head and didn’t die. It was also the day I realized how scared I actually was of death, and after hours of muscle ache from holding that gauze against my open skull, after the wound closed and everything went back to normal, I had myself a good old-fashioned brainstorm. How ironic.
But when summer came, everything had fallen to shit. The air scorched my skin and parched my tongue every time I took a breath. The sun glared down on a rapidly-collapsing world, full of the undying bastard children of cruelty and misfortune. What was one to do when their cells regenerated faster than they decomposed?
My feet hit the pavement, now littered with jagged bits of glass to snap at my toes, thoroughly baked by the blazing ball of bitter disdain high overhead. Today was worse than yesterday. Though I’d often wondered the purpose of it anymore, I
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