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Drama put into words
She scrunched up her nose, her chest hurt when she inhaled. Her body wiggled in unease as when she felt Sarah staring at her.
"I'm not happy." The statement was true, she would be sober if she were happy. Her smile grew. Stretching out her arms, her fingers grasped for the object that should be there, but all she felt was air. Narrowing her eyes, she slide out her lighter and a cigarette, lighting in and speaking between in-hails. "Where'd you put my pills."
"You don't need them" was her only reply.
"The fuck i don't. Look at me, i don't even look real." she snarled, it was somewhat true. She had every normal feature of a human, but she was so obsessed with the idea of perfection. Her eyebrows had to be perfectly shaped, her hair constantly brushed and straightened, lips are always glossed and eyes perfectly shadowed and lined. Her face was her obsession.
"You don't need them to be happy" Sarah snapped, coughing when the smoke wafted around her, trying to snake down her throat and into her lungs.
She bite down on the filter and closed her eyes. "I just don't want to think anymore." she murmured, suddenly so exhausted she didn't even feel like finishing her smoke. She didn't feel like getting up to find somewhere else to sleep ether, she didn't feel like anything at all.