"Watch your mouth
hold your tongue, boy
because you're running out of breath
running out of time before every
careless word that you utter
renders you utterly useless.
Now you're drowning in your own salvia.
Trying to spit yourself to the top of your empty world"
- The Juliana Theory
A young boy stood, as best he could in his current condition, with a bottle of beer in one hand and a half smoked joint in the other. His lips curved up in a half-smile type way, and the look of pure bliss on his face wouldn't last much longer than the few conscience seconds he had left. Falling in a heap onto the cool sand, he landed on his side just in time to let out a mouth full of throw up.
"Man down!" A voice called out, indicating that there was yet another passed out teen. Just another faceless victim that would have to spend the night at a parentless house, usually that of Sarah Borden. Sarah quickly tended to the boy to make sure he was at least capable of getting up and moving. She stumbled over and nudged him lightly.
"Get up, get up." She shoved him a little harder this time. Although she didn't know the boy, it was always known that Sarah would be the one to take the left over drunks home to her house if they were too drunk to function. It was definitely a case that fit the scenario, he'd be coming home with her and she knew it.
Two girls approached the scene, one with her hand over her eyes to shade herself from the flicker of the few flames left from the bonfire. Through the shadows Sarah couldn't make much of anything out, and as she propped the boy up on a nearby beach chair left over from the daily escapades of tourists in the area, she made sure to straighten out her blouse before getting up to stumbled towards them.
"Can I help you?" She asked, slurring her words together.
"We just came past to see what was up; we figured the bonfire was almost over." A blonde answered in a chipper voice, causing her comrade to roll her bright green eyes that seemed to glow in the firelight.
"It is over." Sarah stated, turning quickly on a heel back to the drunk, who was now holding himself up with one elbow and lightly groaning.
"Well ex-fucking-scuse me." The brunette snapped.
Sarah slowly turned, 'What was that?"
"Nothing, she didn't say anything. She's just –" The blonde began, trying to cover up for her friends obviously huge mistake.
"No. You know damn well what I said. I think you're a bitch, Sarah Borden." The brunette stepped forward, sticking out her hand to introduce herself in the coldest way possible.
"How do you know me?" Sarah snapped, ignoring the held out hand.
"Everyone knows you, Sarah." The girl smirked, "You're like the most popular like townie like everrr." She mocked.
"And who're you?"
"I-I-I'm Harper Sanders," The blonde spoke up, fixing her miniskirt nervously, "And this is—"
"I'm Deacon Matthews. You're worst nightmare." Deacon cackled.
"I don't give a shit what you are, you're an F and that's all that matters." Sara snarled, loading her mouth with spit and aiming it in the girls way, "And that's that."