rave table lol

Stolen glances feel damned, as if I'm not the only one who knows I shouldn't be here.

What am I thinking? My parents would think me crazy if she knew where I was, what I was doing- what I was thinking. There's a shame I carry in the same hand I hold my parents' judgements, I've held onto these for so long I hardly notice it's outside of myself. What would they think, what would they think, for one night I'd like to care less.

That's the goal, anyways.

The loud music helps drown it all out and remind me where I am, somewhere so unnatural to myself. Somehow I'm surrounded in the room, yet I stand completely isolated, staying to myself as I meander through the pit of dancers. The smell of sweat is almost sweet in here, a lumber mill that comes alive at night. I've been here before, once, and I hadn't even finished my drink before leaving- scared. Whenever someone notices me, I feel so sick, but the longer I go on my own the more I yearn for that illness.

She notices me, and I feel as if I'll die right there. It rings in my ears and my cheeks burn the second I feel seen, and it feels impossible to swallow the fear. The anticipation, the what if's - this is stupid, I think to myself. I can't deny myself forever, but for a few seconds it feels comfortable, to act as if I never even saw the beautiful girl with bleached white hair. It'd be easier that way, to just go back home and sneak back into my bedroom. Live another day without another sin, another strike, another mistake.

Well, fuck it, I almost laugh to myself when I start making my way to her and her friends. I'll be that when I get home, but I might as well come alive while no one's looking.

No one but her. "I saw you looking," I say, pulling from a pit of confidence I forget I have - or did she catch me staring? "Are you a Forrester?" Mama always told me to avoid those Forresters: heretics. That's what she'd say to me, calling them hellions and maniacs. They turned from God and dance still- maybe that's what I can do, just for tonight. The bartender looks at me and still I just nod, I don't drink.

"I've heard they can get pretty crazy," and I need someone to show me how.

Stolen glances feel damned, as if I'm not the only one who knows I shouldn't be here.

What am I thinking? My parents would think me crazy if she knew where I was, what I was doing- what I was thinking. There's a shame I carry in the same hand I hold my parents' judgements, I've held onto these for so long I hardly notice it's outside of myself. What would they think, what would they think, for one night I'd like to care less.

That's the goal, anyways.

The loud music helps drown it all out and remind me where I am, somewhere so unnatural to myself. Somehow I'm surrounded in the room, yet I stand completely isolated, staying to myself as I meander through the pit of dancers. The smell of sweat is almost sweet in here, a lumber mill that comes alive at night. I've been here before, once, and I hadn't even finished my drink before leaving- scared. Whenever someone notices me, I feel so sick, but the longer I go on my own the more I yearn for that illness.

She notices me, and I feel as if I'll die right there. It rings in my ears and my cheeks burn the second I feel seen, and it feels impossible to swallow the fear. The anticipation, the what if's - this is stupid, I think to myself. I can't deny myself forever, but for a few seconds it feels comfortable, to act as if I never even saw the beautiful girl with bleached white hair. It'd be easier that way, to just go back home and sneak back into my bedroom. Live another day without another sin, another strike, another mistake.

Well, fuck it, I almost laugh to myself when I start making my way to her and her friends. I'll be that when I get home, but I might as well come alive while no one's looking.

No one but her. "I saw you looking," I say, pulling from a pit of confidence I forget I have - or did she catch me staring? "Are you a Forrester?" Mama always told me to avoid those Forresters: heretics. That's what she'd say to me, calling them hellions and maniacs. They turned from God and dance still- maybe that's what I can do, just for tonight. The bartender looks at me and still I just nod, I don't drink.

"I've heard they can get pretty crazy," and I need someone to show me how.