A/N: Hey, my first ever fanfic, time to pop bottles! No, but really, I'm sick today and had an idea while vomiting to write this story. It's a bit heavy on exposition this chapter, but more shall come. Or should I be struck down where I stand. Anyways, I hope you enjoy! #idon'townLOTRjustmycharacters

The sun shone through the light floral curtains, hitting a sleeping form on light green sheets. The awkwardly positioned form groaned, and then rubbed her eyes. She then awoken, groggy and covered in sweat. Enough sweat, in fact, to cause one side of her hair to be plastered to her cheek. This is Sloane. A sophomore in college, struggling as she drinks and studies her way through college life. More drinking than studying, though. Her dark brown eyes adjusted to the light currently coming into the room. Her sleep ridden gaze fell upon a seeping figure next to her.

"Wake up," she groaned.

The figure didn't stir; Sloane looked over the body again. "Wake up damn it," she yawned while getting out of bed.

Sloane then walked to the other side of the bed, and smacked a large lump in front of her. The figure yelped in surprise.

"What the hell, Sloane?"

"You have class in 30 minutes, Floss, you have to get up," Sloane replied, sitting back down on the bed. The woman, now finally awake, ruffled her hair and glanced at the clock. This was Flossie. Also a sophomore in college, Flossie was frequently late. To basically everything.

"I'll just say I'm running on CP time (Colored people) again," Flossie sighed, flopping back down on the bed. Sloane giggled, and then placed a kiss on Flossie's nose. Flossie patted Sloane on the head, and got up to the bathroom.

Now being 10 minutes late, Flossie hurriedly dressed and headed for the door. Before leaving for her car, Flossie called out to Sloane, "Hey can you pack my bag for the camping trip?"

Sloane shouted back a distant yeah, prompting Flossie to leave. Sloane, still in her footie pajamas, ran her hands through her dark hair. She walked into the living room and plopped herself on the light grey loveseat. Reaching out her foot onto the ottoman in front of her, Sloane attempted to knock the remote control on the ground where she could reach it. Lord of the Rings came on the screen. Great, she thought to herself sarcastically. She groaned and immediately flipped to a local channel. Flossie liked Lord of the Rings, Sloane however did not. It confused her, to Sloane, it didn't make any sense. Nothing was on TV. No, literally nothing, Sloane turned the TV off and began packing for the camping trip.

Ah, the great outdoors. The birds were chirping and small critters scampered across the dirt. Sloane hated every bit of it. The complaints rained from her mouth, a complaint hurricane, if you will. It's too hot, my feet hurt, a bear just scratched my face. Okay, that last one wasn't true, but you get the point. Now walking with her hands on her hips, she hiked up a large hill behind Flossie. Flossie, who had planned the trip in the first place, was beginning to regret it. Twigs and leaves were getting tangled in her curly afro. She looked down at the map, turning upside down and all around. Sloane groaned loudly and wiped the sweat from her brow.

"Dear God, where is this campsite?" she called out to Flossie. Flossie clicked her tongue and slumped against a tree.

"Babe, I think we're lost." She stated, glancing back at the map. Sloane, who had also stopped walking, fixed her bangs and then joined Flossie against the tree. Sloane reached into her backpack, pulling out a little bag of, well, weed. This caught Flossie's eye, "You planned to get high in the woods?" she gasped quietly, eyeing the bag. Sloane nodded frantically, in the process of making a joint. "Wanna join," she asked, waving the bag in front of Flossie's face.

Being high in the woods was terrifying at first, but soon became a playhouse of trees and smoke. Flossie grabbed Slone's hand, and stared at her fingers, "You're really pale," Flossie giggled.

Sloane poked her in the ribs, "And YOU'RE dark," she giggled; taking a sip from the bottle of whiskey she also snuck on the trip. Flossie blew a raspberry and took a drag on the joint, "I just have a year round tan," both the girls went into a bout of laughter. Sloane pecked Flossie on the lips.

"We should get married here," Sloane sighed happily, taking again another sip of whiskey. Flossie laughed then shook her head. "We should probably start setting up some sort of camp site." Sloane nodded and began to remove the cloth for the tent, while Flossie collected sticks for a fire.

It was nighttime, and things were getting a bit scary. The girls had come down from their individual highs and were more than a bit drunk. Well, Sloane was.

"I tell you Floss, Organic Chem. Is the shit. I love how I can get everything!" Sloane shouted at her girlfriend who was sitting right next to her. "#organicchemissolive" she slurred pulling out her phone. Flossie rolled her eyes, British Lit is the best obviously, she thought to herself.

"Floss I have to pee." Sloane said in a whiney voice.

"Go pee then," Flossie said, not looking up from her phone.

"I'm scared, come with me," Sloane whined. Flossie shook her head, getting out the little bits of sticks still stuck in her hair. "Sloane your 22, go pee by yourself." Sloane heaved a large sigh and walked a few steps behind a tree.

While checking her Twitter, Flossie heard a large scream. Dropping her floor to the dirt, Flossie ran to the spot where Sloane once squatted. There was nothing there but a bit of grass and moist soil.

A/N: So, I hope you enjoyed this chapter, I'm a bit nervioso, and criticism is fine. I honestly don't care. But, if you would like to read more. Tell me.

-Bing Crosby