Chapter Text
“I wish I could live through something.” The words I whined about on that gloomy Tuesday morning that I have regretted since. Now I’m laying beside a burning pit of fire, regretting the last couple of months. I wanted to live through something. Here I am, wishing I never lived through anything. Couldn’t I just stay as the awkward girl everyone actively ignored? Now all eyes were on me, and not in a good way. If I could go back in time, I would. I would fix it, but I can’t. Now all I’m left with is shame.
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“I wish I could live through something.” I muttered under my breath as I scrolled through the latest photos of my absolute favorite celebrity couple finally getting engaged. From seeing grainy photos of them together at a music festival to official high definition photos of them on the cover of Vogue detailing their private 3-year relationship. It was a dream come true, but for some reason, I felt empty. It’s what I wanted. I got it, now what? Move onto the next celebrity couple? Before I could even think about which couples were dating or not dating that I could ship together, my mind was transported back to reality.
I was in my sister, Alma’s, bright red Honda Civic. Our parents told her not to get a colored car because she was prone to getting stopped more by local police because of the way she drove, and in this instance, Alma sped down the neighborhood just to get me to school on time.
“What Maddy?” Alma asked, voice full of annoyance, as she turned my way quickly, then back to the road. Her car was fairly new so it drove swiftly down the road and into the city.
I wasn’t one to overshare with my family, mostly because I’ve been chronically online since I could use a phone, while they aren’t, but I have always been an introvert, I mostly kept to myself about my own personal struggles. If I can rant all I want on social media, why would I to my sister or parents?
“I just…” I began to say and debated if I should tell Alma. “I feel like nothing is happening to me.” I blurt out. I could feel my sister's eye roll to the back of her head as I finished that sentence. Alma always said I was ‘overdramatic’ however, I think I’m at the perfect dramatic level for my age, which is the younger side of seventeen, and thirteen years younger than her.
“I go to school, then I come home and watch TV.” I continued.
“Well, maybe if you had friends…” Alma replied sarcastically.
“I have friends!” I shot back like a K-pop stan in the replies of a hate tweet to their favorite idol.
“People on the Internet don’t count.” She told me as a matter-of-fact. She was somewhat right. I had plenty of Internet friends thanks to my stan Twitter account for many different media, maybe too much for my mutuals to keep up with, but I’ve garnered a good pocket of friends on there that feel like real life friends. They may as well be.
“Yes they do!” I told her, but she was never a fan of social media. Sure, she had Instagram, but mainly for the silly filters and photos of her dinner.
“Sure, whatever.” That was Alma’s cue to try and stop the conversation because she knew I’d keep going. Once I start babbling, especially to her, I don’t stop. Whether she likes it or not. Growing up she always had her door locked.
“For your information,” I put my phone down on my lap and put all my attention to this now. “I do have a friend. Sean? Remember?” Sean has been my eccentric friend since middle school. He’s the one who introduced me to filmmaking, and we’ve made many short films and uploaded them to YouTube these past years.
“The weirdo?” Alma asked as if she was disgusted by the mere sound of his name.
“He’s not weird!” I tried to defend him.
One summer, she caught us making a body horror film because Sean is the type to make a film of ‘everything and not be locked in one genre for the rest of his life.’ So we made a lot of fake blood that day and our backyard was full of corn syrup. I still never hear the end of it even today.
“Well, maybe a little.” I admit after being reminded of that day. I was banned from watching horror films for a year, and Sean’s parents told him to never make a horror film again.
“Are you guys still filming another movie or something?” Alma asked, and I was surprised she even remembered I mentioned this to her and my parents three months ago.
“I doubt it,” I sighed. “We talk about it constantly and have sort of a cast and crew, but nothing ever happens.” We planned a feature length film. I was tasked to write it, meanwhile Sean would be the director.
“Well, don’t be so negative.” Alma told me, a bit of sarcasm in her voice.
“Nothing in my life ever goes positive.” I cried out. I wasn’t exactly dripping in lucky girl syndrome. Not only that, but I was clumsy and full of bad luck. It always found me more than I found the good things in life.
“When you’re older, you’ll want more negatives than positives.” Alma giggled to herself, and I felt my breakfast of Honey Nut Cheerios tease its way up to my throat. Alma always overshared in ways I did not need. This was one of them.
“Gross…” I slumped in the seat and grabbed my phone and went to mindlessly scroll on Twitter as Alma chuckled and continued driving to the most dreadful place on Earth: High School.