A million miles away [WLW]

𝙲𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚛𝚎𝚎

ᴷᵃᵗʰᵉʳⁱⁿᵉˢ ᵖᵒᵛ

I storm up the stairs, my worn-out dirty converse slamming against cream carpets drowning out the yells and doors slams from my mother along with calming whispers from my over worked father.

I navigate the overly decorated hallway, dodging my confusing rambling nosy sister before finally stepping into my safe place, my kingdom. I turn around and slam the door on my incoming sister, who is wearing way too much makeup.

I thought one of Willy Wonkas's minions was rushing at me. I don't know their names. I've never watched Willy Wonka, he was freaky as fuck. Willy Wonka is also a weird name. Who would name their kid Willy? Willy, the chocolate maker, Willy.

I turn away from the door and just as i'm about to flop down on my bed my open laptop screen catches my attention, i must have forgotten to turn it off during my morning rush which isn't new. I was running late and had to skip breakfast just to get there before my first period started.

I spot the small notification from that stupid ass app i downloaded on a saddend whim, i need to put a lock on that playstore when i'm going through a Lana Del Ray phase.

Funny story i don't actually listen to Lana Del Ray, i didn't know who she was for a while.

I head over to the terribly put together desk and squint to read the notification.

It was a random message, a short, slightly awkward message. On a random chatting site filled with majorly awkward teenagers who were frightened to go outside and actually meet people.

Not that I can actually say much about that. I'm exactly the same as the people on this site. I'm an awkward, slightly nervous, and by slightly, I mean majorly, teen.

"Hello, i am Camila. 17, we share the hobby of film."

I was going to ignore the message, just shut off my laptop and collapse onto the bed and sleep off the shitty school day i had just had, but the profile picture caught my eye. It was a character from an old horror movie that was made around 1980s, the best time for horror slashers. It wouldn't hurt to text the girl back, i mean i have nothing better to do other than Wallow in self-pity, i sit down on the worn down spinny chair that has went through years of being punched, thrown and picked at. My hands hover over the keyboard, it was just a plain black keyboard, people that put designs on it are weird as fuck in my opinion, i mean how do you even find the letters you need?

"Heyy Camila, I'm Katherine :] I'm also 17! what kind of movies are you into? I'm into the 1980s horror stuff :p"

I wait for a few moments, nervous. Which is stupid. What could i possibly be nervous about? She was just some random stranger that'll most likely just not respond.

Not that i cared, why would i care?

Slowly, my nerves turned into frustration and then frustration into curiosity. Dragging my slightly bent finger along the bottom of the laptop, the mouse on my screen moved towards the mysterious strangers profile picture.

I click.

I scroll.

New Mexico? I'd assume it would be quite late there. I wouldn't know, though, and i don't care enough to know. I dragged my eyes along her bio in an attempt to unravel her mystery. Get to know her. god, i sound creepy.

She just seemed like a normal run of the mill teenager, photos of buildings and sunsets, and

Holy shit.

Holy fucking shit.

She's hot, she's really hot, my eyes scan the images, and my mouth slowly drops. That fucking bitch! Well no, i probably shouldn't be calling her a bitch just because she's attractive..I should be calling her a lucky bastard, she wore expensive clothing and her teeth were white with small fangs peeking out between her lips, her red lips. Red like some expensive wine. god, if this was some cheesy romance book, they'd probably describe the colour as a pool of blood. I always found that morbid, how could you look at someone's lips and go:

"Red lips, red like blood. Smash."

My eyes continue to scan her pictures like i'm downloading her face to the world wide web, not willing to leave a single detail missed.

Hazel eyes with wavy blonde hair, i bet it's naturally wavy that goddess genes gifted bitch. She had a tan, a slight tan, as if she lounged in the sun all day long with no care in the world. God, i can sense the posh, spoiled energy surrounding her.

Yet i don't click out of the profile, I keep looking. Searching.

I don't know what i'm searching for, most likely a commen trait we both share so i could attempt to bond over her with it, god i feel like an American teen in a shitty movie right now. Wanting to befriend the popular pretty girl in hopes of feeling better about myself.

A notification disturbs my (not creepy.) snooping, my eyes automatically snap towards it, leaving the photos behind.

She replied!

I mean-

She replied.

I automatically click back onto the chat and read it, a smile invading its way onto my face.

"I love the chessy slashers, sleepaway camp is one of my personal favourites."

Okay, so maybe i was wrong about the basic posh chick thing. She seemed pretty cool. Her taste in movies so far is similar to mine, i could probably just center our conversations in that.

God why am i actually thinking seriously about this? She's just some stupid girl on this weird app.

A stupid girl with a good taste in horror movies, a stupid girl with a charming smile.