Read This Instead Of Unpacking

Read This Instead Of Unpacking

Once again promoting the practice of procrastination for all young collegiate folk.
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Carefully crossing the ravaged threshold of my trashed shack, I heard the shuffling of tiny feet over the newspapers I had put down over the wooden floors when it rained so they would not become warped and saturated. The light had stopped flickering. Just then, something pounced onto my back, shoving me to the ground.

“Ouch!” I yelped.

The person on top of me just exhaled deeply.

Samara.

She had been my best friend since I learned how to walk. She had wavy, jet black hair and behind her mask were striking emerald green eyes. Her mask had a black blob coming down from the center of the forehead and extending down the right side of the face and ending in the corner just above the chin. The lips of the mask were painted light pink, like mine, and everyone else’s. Everyone’s masks were white and black, or white and grey. The only touch of color was the lip shade. Samara’s mask was not the worst mask I had ever seen. Mine, on the other hand, was so dull and ordinary. I had a grey upside down triangle shooting out of the forehead, two black lines across the cheek bones like the African peoples’ war paint I had seen in some of my grandmother’s old National Geographic magazines, and a single dark dot on the left corner above the mouth like a mole or beauty mark.

I could see Samara’s eyes squint up, indicating she was smiling.

“How did it go?” She wondered, helping me to my feet. She was quite a bit shorter than I, but none of our people were short by any means. We typically towered over the superiors in height.

I shrugged, making my over to the grungy old couch that had more off-patterned patches than a maid’s clothing. But when your furniture store is a Junk Yard, you take what you can find. I slumped down onto the cushions. I never felt comfortable on that couch. It took me forever to get situated in a position I could stand.

“I didn’t go through with it,” I replied shamefully.

“What?!” Samara erupted. “Why not?”

“I-I don’t know. I just couldn’t bring myself to crashing their party.”

She crossed her arms. “Not even with your great grandmother’s life at stake?”

I shot her a look. “Why don’t you try breaking half of the rules all in one night and see if you can go through with it while keeping a clear conscience?”

Samara didn’t say anything. Of course I wanted my great grandmother back; I didn’t need her pointing it out all the time. But I wanted to get her back lawfully. I wanted the board to give her back.

Too bad that was not going to happen arbitrarily.

Samara took a seat beside me. She put her hand on my knee.

“I’m sorry,” she muttered. “Look, we can think of another way.”

I sighed, “If I let you continue to help me, you could be getting yourself into more trouble than I’m worth.” Which was little to nothing. I had nothing to lose by getting caught and being punished with a few more years with my mask, even though it was atrocious. I had no family, none except for my grandmother, and no real ties to anything or anyone. Samara was my only friend.

Samara had everything to lose. She had a family – two parents and two siblings, all of whom loved her dearly. She was even engaged. Her father had promised her to the son of his neighbor back when Samara was three years old. If she hadn’t been a hopeless romantic, she would have been totally against the whole arranged marriage thing. Luckily, she and Blade were friends before they started thinking about each other in the terms of love. As for me, no one showed interest in that department.

She snorted. “You’ve got to be kidding me!” She threw an arm around my shoulders. “You think I care about getting in trouble? You think I’m scared of a little danger? I laugh when faced with danger.” Samara let out an over-exaggerated maniacal laugh. I smiled. “If you think for one minute, Aurora Vice, that I am letting you go through this alone, you have another thing coming!”

Suddenly, we heard rasping at the window. Our heads shot in that direction. Through the window of my tiny home, Blade Grover – Samara’s fiancée – stuck his head in. His mask was decorated with one half entirely grey with black lips instead of pink. Samara squealed at the sight of him. I couldn’t tell if it was an excited squeal or a scared squeal.

“Did you do it?” Blade asked me, without paying any mind to his girlfriend.

I shook my head. “No.”

He gave Samara a critical look. She waved her hand at him.

“Don’t pay any attention to him. He was born judgmental.” She cocked her head back and winked at him.

I wanted to change the subject. Thinking about my grandmother would only depress me more. I yearned to know how she was doing in the asylum, if anything had changed, if she had changed.

“Where are you two heading off to?” I asked as Samara rose from the couch. She walked over to the window and tousled Blade’s messy black hair.

“Don’t know, yet,” Blade responded.

“We’re sneaking off,” she told me then turned her head back to Blade. “We don’t need to have a set destination.”

“I think you’re a bad influence on my girl, Aurora.” Blade teased. “She used to be such a goody-toe-shoes.”

If I could have seen Samara’s mouth, it probably would have been gaped open.

“When have I ever been a goody-toe-shoes in my life??” she exclaimed.

I rolled my eyes then waved my hand at them, motioning for them to get out of here. “Just don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”

Blade and Samara exchanged looks. “So, nothing,” they said in unison. I smirked at them and their couple cuteness. Blade held out his arms and she climbed into them. He scooped her out of the window. And then I was alone.

I leaned back on the dingy old couch, placing my head on the arm. I stared up at the flakey ceiling that was leaking and falling apart, and would probably collapse on me within the next year or so. But the material things did not matter.

I’ll find a way to get you back, Grandma. I said to myself. I promise.

Cover Image Credit: lovethesepics.com

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The End Of The Semester As Told By Todd Chrisley

Because we're all a little dramatic like Todd sometimes.
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The last 3-4 weeks of every college student’s semester are always crazy hectic. We have last minute assignments, group projects, and exams all squeezed into the last few weeks before break.

Sometimes we all need a little humor, and sometimes we are all a little dramatic, so why not experience the last few weeks of the semester as told by the king of drama himself, Todd Chrisley of Chrisley Knows Best.

1. Sitting in class listening to your professor explain upcoming assignments/exams.

2. When your group project members refuse to do anything until the night before it's due or just show up the day of to present.


3. When you and your roommate try to cook with whatever few ingredients you have left in stock.

Because we definitely want to avoid going to the grocery store at the end of the semester if we can.

4. When your parents get tired of you calling them about every little inconvenience in your life.

5. Sitting down to work on assignments.


6. Your thoughts when the professor is telling you what they want from you out of an assignment.


7. When you've had about 30 mental breakdowns in 2 days.

8. Trying to search out the class for the right group members.

9. The last few days of classes where everyone and everything is getting on your nerves.

10. When your friend suggests going out but you're just done with the world.

11. This. On the daily.

12. When all you want to do is snuggle up and watch Christmas movies.


13. Studying and realizing you know nothing.


14. When your finals are over and it's finally time to go home for break.


You're finally back to your old self.

Cover Image Credit: Instagram

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8 Things That I Will Always Miss From My Childhood

Ahhh, the good old days!

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Okay, yes, I love being an adult. I can drive myself places, buy and pick out my own clothes, and basically do whatever I want. I can make my own food and eat whenever I want. And the best part is: I don't have a bedtime!

However, there are always things that I miss about my childhood.

Your Parents Buying Your Food.

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On Fridays, my mom used to take me to McDonalds or Wendy's, or whatever fast food place I wanted to go to. And obviously, she would buy my food. Then, Freshman year of College, I went to Red Lobster by myself for the first time and when I got the bill for my food, I was shocked. I was like, this much? For just me? Dear god, why? And I decided never again to take myself out to eat because I did not have the income at the time to sustain that.

Disney Channel!

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I miss the old shows like "That's So Raven" and "The Sweet Life of Zack and Cody." I lived for those shows. They were funny but focused on themes of family and friends. They were wholesome. But now all I see on TV is like, not nearly as cute or witty. I wanna go back to watching things that were funny, not watching people get killed on the news.

ICE CREAM!

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Because we live in South Carolina, it's warm out about 8 months out of the year. Therefore, my mom and I used to go get ice cream together basically every single day. I cannot think of a day where we weren't at Baskin-robins. She always got World Class Chocolate. And we would just talk. It was such a lowkey activity but it really meant a lot to me.

The Movies.

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I've always been into action movies and from the time I was in Elementary School to now, whenever they'd make any sort of Superhero movie, my father and I would go see it together. He'd even pay the big bucks so we could see it in 3D. And we'd have a little father/daughter bonding time. We'd share a popcorn and some laughs, but I always got my own large soda!

Batting Cages.

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I think it was middle school softball when my dad stopped pitching to me and started taking me to a batting cage. The first time I ever went, I was really afraid and I did terrible because I thought the balls were coming too fast. But, as with most things, the more you do them the better you get. So, I was becoming a better hitter and I got to spend Saturday mornings with my favorite man. Besides, sometimes it'd be funny when he'd put my helmet on and try to hit from the pitching machine as well.

Christmas Parade!

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Whether or not all of you know this, I hate my hometown. But the only good thing we have is our Christmas parade. When I was in high school, I had to be in it because all three high school marching bands were in it. So, that wasn't fun. What was fun was being a little kid and seeing the marching bands, dance companies, bands, pageant winners, sororities, real estate agents and Santa himself. Plus, we ALWAYS got hot chocolate either during or after the parade, except those years where it was 70 degrees.

Barbecues!

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Okay, so my dad actually makes me the best ribs in the entire world. Like I swear they could win a prize. And he also makes chicken, burgers and hot dogs. Sometimes he even grills salmon. And I miss being at home for that sometimes because he'd ask me to mix his barbecue sauce for him or form the burger patties. He even designated me the "official taste tester."

Going to Grandma's!

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Every Friday, usually after the fast food, sometimes before, my mom and I used to go to her parent's house and sit with them and talk to them. But my grandpa died when I was 8, so then it was my grandma. But we'd still go talk to her and watch TV with her. She grows tomatoes, so sometimes she'd give us those. She always had some sort of candy for us. Plus, she's the kindest person on earth, so you love being around her. In high school, I started having to go to football games every Friday and having practices, so it got harder to come by. But now, when I get the chance I try to go see her.

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