So, I’ve been gone for, like, ever and where have been? Oh, you know, here….there…everywhere…nowhere. Is that vague enough for you? Because the truth is, I’ve been doing nothing. My camera broke, and I was unable to take pictures so I got super bummed and no longer wanted to blog. I have recently tried out a new form of blogging called vlogging, which most people have hear of. So, please, check out my oh so adventurous life in my very first vlog: I’m ‘Bout That Vlog Life.
Hello world and all who inhabit it! I wrote another chapter of Getting Lucky. Well, sort of wrote it. I’m almost finished, it’s just taking me eight years longer than I thought it would. But I wanted to post this now so that I can publish another post that I’ve had ready for nearly a week. When I’ve finished it, i’ll alert you all so you can finish the chapter on my Wattpad. Now, let’s get lucky.
Chapter 3: Frosty, The Businessman
He was made of snow but the children know how he came to life one day; There must have been some magic in that old silk hat they found; For when they placed it on his head he began to dance around…
I stopped as a car zoomed passed me, threatening to nick the tip of my nose as I waited for the walking light to blink. I feel like I’ve been run over by Santa’s Reindeer. Is this really how Grandma felt? If it is, I feel for her. This is horrible… My head is pulsing, my throat is raw, my legs and arms are numb and I’m pretty sure I’m covered in small purple and blue bruises. Why? Things are moving way to fast and it is taking everything in my power not to vomit everything I haven’t eaten yet, and scare this poor little kid next to me that’s looking up at me with his innocent big blue eyes like I just told him Santa doesn’t exist.
“Hey, kid,” I whispered as I bent down so that I was at eye level with him. He jumped, startled that I was speaking to him. His eyes somehow grew wider than they were just a moment ago and his mouth was turned upside down in an extreme frown. “Don’t drink and stay in school.” I said sagely and suddenly his face broke as he erupted in a waterfall of tears. His mother yanked him back and looked at me disapprovingly. I winced as the sound of his crying sounded like a grenade going off in my head.
Is this what happens when you get drunk? You wake up at some stranger’s house with absolutely no recollection of what happened the night before except for the fact that he claims that he did not take advantage of you?  Kid’s cry as they look at you in the street? The sun makes too much noise? If it is, this is terrible. Why do people even drink? It solves no problems; the only thing you have after it is more things to deal with and a big bump on the back of your head from who knows what or where. I lifted my hand up to my head softly touching the bruise, wincing as a pain shot through my head. The light turned red and I slowly began to walk across the street.
You know what hurts the most? My pride. As I take the walk of shame all the way back to my house I can’t help but wonder how absolutely terrible I look right now. I didn’t—couldn’t—even look in the mirror as I ran out of the apartment with my jacket and that strange CD in my hands. For all I know, I look like the ghost bus from Mean Girls just ran over me. I know I feel like it.
I looked around at all of the Christmas decorations in the windows of all of the buildings I passed. A big green bow with red accents sat on top of a perfectly wrapped present in the display window of a candy store. Valerie’s Candy Haven. I smiled as I looked closely at the freshly cleaned window and saw something that made me gasp. In the reflection I saw… me. Or at least what I thought was me. My hair was practically one large knot on the top of my head, my makeup was smeared down my face and my bright red lipstick was smeared across my cheeks. Before this I knew I probably looked like crap but… damn. I did not know it looked this bad. I look like the Joker’s little sister on a bad day.
I began to vigorously rub at my face and run my fingers through my matted hair, but nothing seemed to be working. It looked like I had Rosacea and was crying black liquid. I sighed and forced my beanie over my head and continued the terrifying walk back to my house.
As I turned the corner to my house I stopped and attempted to look dignified. Oh Santa, Noël is going to tear me a new one. And then laugh at me. And then tear me another new one for me to enjoy for the holidays. Oh, joy to the world.  What am I going to do? Not only did I go against his wishes and go to the bar but I also stayed out all night and if he finds out why, I can consider this the last time I see the sun. I looked up at the sky. Judging by the grey skies and clouds rolling in it looked like it was about to rain, but knowing LA weather it probably won’t last very long. I looked both ways before crossing the street to the two-story house my brother owned. Trust me when I say this, living with your older slightly more successful sibling has both its advantages and disadvantages. Advantages? They could care less about what you eat and when you eat, they don’t really care about your grades as long as you continue to go to school, you can have a small Christmas tree in your room, and jobs are unnecessary unless you want one. Disadvantages? They can tell you what to do and you have to do it—kind of like a parent except parents don’t have “telling mom and dad” to hang over your head, and the when you get that chore done doesn’t really matter when it’s your sibling—, you can’t go to that bar and get drunk for the first time if he tells you you can’t, you can’t sleep over at friends’ houses if he doesn’t know them, and no wild parties unless he’s invited as well.  And I’ve nearly hit all of the disadvantages on the head when I defied my brother and went out last night. I stopped at the, big red door with the wreath hanging on it and took a deep breath.
Good bye, everybody. It was nice knowing you. I let out the breath I hadn’t noticed I was still holding and turned the key to get into the house. I slowly stepped in and looked around the living room and when he wasn’t there I looked up the stairs and noticed his office door was open and there was music softly playing from inside. Noël is a music producer so there was always music playing in the house, especially where he is, something I usually didn’t think twice about but today it works in my favor.  I wanted to cheer and jump up and down in celebration, but didn’t want to risk making too much noise. But, despite what happened last night, It looks like my name behooves me. I softly closed the door behind me, bending down to slip of my boots wincing slightly as the zipper seemed the loudest thing in the house right now. I hunched down and began to slowly tip toe into the living room. Maybe he hasn’t noticed I am gone yet. Maybe I can just slip into my room and act like nothing even happened. Maybe I won’t have to…
“Lucky, where were you last night?”
Oh crap.
See you this weekend!
Saged & Confused 