A/N: Emily, Naomi, Katie and any other skins/Wristcutters characters that make an appearance do not belong to me.
"Emily."
I wanted to answer, but the reflection in the mirror held my gaze. Pale skin, dull red hair, depressingly dreary. Just like everything else in this god forsaken place. My reflection was a far cry from the girl it used to be, with my bright red hair and my colourful personality.
Drip drip. Major déjà vu.
Strange that my last memories of a colourful better world where being played out for me yet again. Everything from the smelly broken down public toilets, to the broken mirror.
A sigh escaped my lips as my name was called yet again, louder and with a hint of annoyance. I knew I better answer that call.
Tightening the tap my gaze fell onto the pool of water that had formed in the sink. Water that I could have swore turned a blood red, if only for mere seconds. Shaking my head I moved for the door, one to many drinks I think.
The moment the door closed behind me I felt myself unceremoniously lifted into the air and another bottle shoved into my hand, as a chorus of Emily's filled the bar, not a single person hadn't got there glasses. There were no smiles, no laughter and it looked like the shittest party ever, but I could bet that this was more fun than any of them had ever had in all the years they had been stuck here.
I was probably the smallest person here, and no amount of kicking and screaming had ever gotten me anywhere, especially where both Matt and Summer where concerned. Didn't hurt to try though.
I did try, kicking, flailing, screaming. But they held onto me too tight and I could not be heard over the chorus. I remained held high above the others, a belated crowd surf without the excitement before being dropped onto the floor rather suddenly.
It was like on of the old movies where everything moves in slow motion. As soon as my feet touched the ground I felt myself falling back, unable to grab anything that would keep me upright. Embarrassing much. Until I felt a steady arm wrapped securely around my waist.
"Thanks" I heard myself say as I stood upright, the arm still held fast around my waist. My gaze rested on the arm as it was pulled away quickly and back to a blonde haired, blue eyed girl.
My heart stopped. It couldn't be.
Could it be Naomi. Would she have been stupid enough to follow me here. Did she love me that much. A thousand questions only one answer.
No.
It defiantly wasn't Naomi, it wasn't anybody, just another one of my stupid hallucinations.
I wanted her back. I wanted to look into those blue eyes, to run my hand through her blonde hair, to kiss her delicious lips. I wanted Naomi, I wanted my old life back. The way I saw it there was only one way to do that, the bottle in my hand. Alcohol brought hallucinations, but the hallucinations also brought Naomi. So I drank more.
Shaking the bottle I was disappointed to find it empty. Alcohol never seemed to last long around here, probably because this place is so fucking depressing an escape is needed. Doesn't bloody work though does it.
Walking to the bar would require some effort so instead I settled for the nearly full bottle on the table in front of me. It's owner would probably never notice that it had disappeared, probably wouldn't even care.
Just like I didn't care about the cake that was next to the bottle. White with light grey writing proclaiming that I had been in this shit hole precisely 1 fucking year.
As if I needed any sort of reminder. Matt and Summer, both wankers.