Life Worth Living


"Sweetheart, please, just-"

"No!" came the agitated reply, "I'm sick and tired of listening to your pathetic excuses!"

"I'm sorry baby."

"That's what you said when mom left." soon as the words left her mouth she regretted them, but they rang true and both conversers knew it.

"I'll see you soon honey." Came a detached voice through the speakers of a small mechanical object that the girl held in her hand.

Aubrey rested her heavy head in her hands, letting the phone slip between her fingers and fall onto the thinly carpeted floor. God, she hated this. She hated how she had to have that conversation; she hated how she spoke to him but most of all, she hated the fact that the closest she would ever get to her father would be through a phone.

She leaned into a wall as though she could pour all of her problems into it—if only she pushed hard enough. She surveyed her surroundings before a poorly suppressed sob shuddered through her feeble body. How could she have fallen this far? She remembered her old home; nothing big, nothing special, but home. There was food and furniture, but most importantly, there was happiness. Aubrey missed the happiness that resided not only in her home but in her. But that was before her mother left. Then the company started to fail. And now this.

She slid to the floor, her back still pressed against the thin wall as she let the tears fall freely down her cheeks, no longer enough strength to hold them back. Her phone began to vibrate, almost as if it were mocking her—its pale, unearthly glow casting a shallow light on Aubrey's sparse surroundings; a single bed, shoddy light globe, grey walls and carpet. She let it ring out before picking it up, not bearing to even acknowledge another human being in the world.

'ONE MISSED CALL - Angel' read the small screen.

Crap Aubrey thought, as that single name resonated through her entire body. Angel. He would be waiting for her. He probably had been for a while. It was not the first time that Aubrey had been late to practice or just not shown up at all. But it was becoming more and more regular, and Angel had noticed. Angel always noticed. She sighed as she pulled herself up to her feet, dragging them across the floor. She made her way from the tiny room into a very similar corridor. As she dug in her pocket for a key to lock the apartment's tiny door behind her, she felt her phone begin its attempts at escaping her grasp once again. She silenced it with a dismissive gesture, knowing that her hanging up would be all that Angel needed to know she was alright.

Angel. His name ran through her mind again. What would he think? Of course he would see that she'd been crying, but what would he do? She wished that she could laugh at his jokes and terrible hook-up lines— she really did. She knew that they were only spoken to make her laugh, even only smile. But she just couldn't bring herself to do it. How could a smile seem so much to her? Aubrey didn't know. It was as if something inside of her had stopped, the part of her that wanted to laugh and yell and be stupid. She could see that part of her inside of herself— she missed that part but somehow she just couldn't access it anymore.

Her only consolation was dance. When the music played and the lights focused on no one but her and the Latino, she was a different person. She had the chance to change whatever she wanted about herself. She could forget whatever she didn't want to remember and with a chance like that, why wouldn't you want to take it? Aubrey missed out on practice but she had never once missed out on a performance though she knew that one day soon, she wouldn't dance at all. It was too much of a changing lifestyle to support her. She had no idea how the others coped. They of course were not drowning in the same spiralling debt that she was but that thought did not occur to Aubrey as she stepped out of the dingy apartment block that she refused to call home, and into a narrow alley.

She wouldn't walk to the studio straight from here. She would take a more winding route, leading her around the slum houses and into the more classy side of town. It is from there that Aubrey makes her way to anything. She wouldn't be able to bear if her friends knew about what was happening to her— how she was living, what she was doing to herself.

And it wasn't because of the shame or disgust that she knew would come from them—it was because she didn't want them to worry. Of all things, Aubrey was most independent. She couldn't have someone worrying about her, even though she needed it dearly.

That's why she acted like she did. No one worried about an arrogant, confident redhead especially if they thought that she lived in the high-class part of town. Aubrey knew that all she had to do was keep up pretences for a little while longer. Then she would allow for her world to come crashing down around her but she knew that none of her friends would be there to see it. That thought comforted her through the long hours of the day and night, both when she was with her friends or so, so far away from her.

Aubrey accelerated into a jog as she saw in the distance, a place where the neon lights did not blink in such a menacing manner, but rather beckoned to her in a way that somehow reminded her of a place that was so much better than the one she was in now. She felt as though she was always running nowadays. Running from her father, running from her problems, running from her friends. She could no longer bear it. But she knew that if she stopped running, there would be nothing to live for. She just wished there was something for her to run to, cause if she didn't find it, she'd just stop. She wished there was something that made her life worth living.

Ugh, God, ew.
But ohwells.
review, tell me what you liked and disliked
I appreciate anything :D
And I apologise for the sketchy story so far, it will get better *hopefully*
This was rushed, but ohwell.
thanks for reading