A Semester Abroad [open] [site event]

She was trashed.

More than trashed. Completely shitfaced drunk. Sloshed. Plastered. Evelyn White stumbled through the hall, running her hand along the wall for support, giggling like a complete fucking maniac. I've really fucked up now... Her head was swimming, but she was able to string together that much at least. It didn't take a sober person to figure it out. Even if her gift let her slip away unnoticed until now, the effect was broken with her being so obvious. It didn't matter. That was the best part about it. None of it fucking mattered.

Evelyn staggered forward and fell against the wall, her head lolling to the side, the ghost of a grin spread across her face. Getting caught, getting suspended, getting laughed at, making an idiot out of herself, it didn't fucking matter. It was that simple. There wasn't anything else to it, it wasn't a hidden philosophy she'd found at the bottom of a bottle, it was just a small simple truth that she'd been looking over this entire time.

The realization hadn't hit her all at once. It'd sunk in with every swig of whiskey throughout the night, until she'd been reduced to this.

I don't even care anymore.

Maybe it was the alcohol that made her numb to everything that she used to fear, to all her angst and moping over the past couple of weeks since he'd left, over all her insecurities that she'd fought with her whole life. Maybe, when she sobered up in the Headmaster's office, she'd regret this. But right now she felt liberated.

At this point, she couldn't remember if she'd had plans to go out, but somewhere along the way she'd half-assed a Halloween costume. I'm a witch. I think. That was right before the lights had gone out. Her dress, a tight-fitting black frock that clung to her hips and came down to her thighs, had been improvised with a pair of scissors and an old gown she hadn't worn since seventh grade. The wide-brimmed floppy witch's hat had been bought in town at the last minute. In the dark, you probably couldn't even tell. She didn't even know what the fuck happened to her broom. At some point in the last ten minutes it'd just disappeared from her hand. The entire night had just been a haze of aimless wandering through the halls, walking around in a novel euphoria and reveling in every dirty look.

It was more than just liquid courage, the buzz and false bravado you got after a couple drinks, it was like a high, a trance, like she'd been replaced with a whole other person. No, more than that. She was still the same person she'd always been. Just now it was like she'd broken out of her shell.

Her parents had always talked about 'finding herself' and putting herself out there, but somehow, she didn't think that this is what they had in mind. More laughter bubbled out out, escaping from her lips, and she forced herself to keep walking. The hallway lurched and swung with every step, twisting her stomach in knots. She felt like her eyes were about to spin around in her skull like poker slots, but she still felt more giddy than nauseous.

Yeah, it was fucked up.

But this was the first real fun she'd had since he'd left.