Revisions and Revisions

The sudden noise of a slammed door cracked like thunder and reverberated throughout the silent, summer night; save for the hum of crickets and the soft boom of loudspeakers fading in and out from a party somewhere near. Sticky air pulled the wide-eyed girl outdoors despite the late hour and beckoned her to leave behind the mess of events that remained trapped within the suburban brick building she called home. She expected her parents to come storming out after her, almost hoped they would, yet after several slow minutes passed by with her feet planted along the steps left with no sign of a possible truce, she found herself unexpectedly carried down the street.

As she walked, the young girl reached up and slid her glasses up the bridge of her nose, quickly wiping away the dry residue of salty tears. No more crying, she told herself. Somewhere in the distance, she heard the familiar sound of breaking glass and, soon after, obnoxious laughter. With a gulp of air and furrowed eyebrows, she was surprised by her own actions as she made her way over to the location of the noise. The sound of her heartbeat was still audible over the melody flowing through the air.

Her steps were followed by a quick examination of herself; a comfy sweater could make it through party doors, right? Her fingers trembled as she made her way to the mansion planted right in the middle of the cul de sac. She knew who the house belonged to, and how they were well-known for throwing the craziest parties around town. The yard was littered with shiny, plastic cups and broken glass bottles, causing her to cringe inwardly.


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