A problematic teenage girl is hurled into a world that no average human is aware of. |
I returned to the faded brown apartment building, and walked up the lopsided staircase to my mother’s apartment. Walking in the door, I found my mother fiddling with the computer, playing a game of solitaire. It was then that I inquired about the invitation to the party, and her drawn out reply was eventually in the affirmative. I glanced at the clock and noticed that I had about two hours before the event was going to take place. That time I filled with mindless but time consuming video games, blowing up aliens with futuristic guns on planets in solar systems that as far as I was concerned, didn’t exist. After, I had grabbed some clothing and barricaded myself in the bathroom to get ready to the best of my ability. I climbed out of the shower and pulled on a pair of black bondage pants with red and white straps that I had placed onto the back, they dangled loosely behind me. I then pulled on a gray wife-beater over my head that had a printed picture of a skull on it. I wiped off the long mirror and applied my dark eye makeup, put my hair up, and threw on a black, knit cap. I stood for a second wondering if I looked ok, but I erased those thoughts and replaced them with the uncaring ones. Opening the door, a rush of cool air refreshed me. I grabbed my black trench coat off of the back of a chair as I passed by it and slid it onto my shoulders. My mother approached me and asked if I was ready to go, while she impulsively adjusted the collar to my coat and I nodded my head. Back down the lopsided staircase we went, out to the small red car that my mother owned, and off we went. The moon was starting to show brightly in the mostly cloudy night sky as we drove through the back roads to reach Punk’s residence. We pulled into her driveway and the one thing that my mother warned as I stepped out of the car was something she said every time I went somewhere, be good. I stood in the driveway for a while as the car pulled away, and two silhouettes of hooded figures approached me. It was Punk and another young girl who I had not met yet. We walked to the door where I was met with the sounds of muffled pounding rap and hip-hop music. I looked to Punk and faked a dry heave out of humor. “Well, this ought to be interesting, no?” I said as we made our way to her bedroom and shut the door behind us, without so much as a word to the chaperone, Punk’s mother, who had been cautiously staring at me since I had entered their home. I took a seat on a stool on the far side of the room, and the two other girls had placed themselves on the bed. Punk looked at me, then to the girl sitting next to her, then back to me with a sudden thought of realization. “Oh, Angel, this is Courtney.” I nodded my head towards the other girl and made a slight hand gesture that mildly resembled a wave. Courtney waved back and smiled softly at me. I shifted in my seat and inquired about some music that we would all enjoy listening to rather then the random shrieks of amusement and the annoyance of music coming from beneath us. After about an hour or so of talking about our interests in life, and listening to industrialized techno and metal, I had decided that it had gotten too warm in the room. “Hey guys, I think that we should go outside.” I said over the noise of the competing music. “Yeah, I guess, but why?” Punk said with puzzlement, for she knew how I was when it came to eerie nights. “Well, it is kind of warm in here. Besides, it is a full moon tonight.” My eyes beamed. We exited the room and headed to the front door. They had slipped their shoes on and were waiting patiently for me, for my boots had all the works, the tie, zippers up the long sides, and shiny studded buckles. We walked out of the door into the cool night air, then down into the back lawn and stood in amazement as the full moon eerily illuminated the woods behind Punk’s house. The dogs were barking and growling like mad. Either they didn’t like me, or there was something out there, and I was keen on exploring. |