river jude phoenix (◡‿◡✿)

We’ll Meet Again by Vera Lynn with added From Another Room effect

US Helplines:

Depression Hotline: 1-630-482-9696

Suicide Hotline: 1-800-784-8433

LifeLine: 1-800-273-8255

Trevor Project: 1-866-488-7386

Sexuality Support: 1-800-246-7743

Eating Disorders Hotline: 1-847-831-3438

Rape and Sexual Assault: 1-800-656-4673

Grief Support: 1-650-321-5272

Runaway: 1-800-843-5200, 1-800-843-5678, 1-800-621-4000

Exhale: After Abortion Hotline/Pro-Voice: 1-866-4394253

Child Abuse: 1-800-422-4453

UK Helplines:

Samaritans (for any problem): 08457909090 e-mail [email protected]

Childline (for anyone under 18 with any problem): 08001111

Mind infoline (mental health information): 0300 123 3393 e-mail: [email protected]

Mind legal advice (for people who need mental-health related legal advice): 0300 466 6463 [email protected]

b-eat eating disorder support: 0845 634 14 14 (only open Mon-Fri 10.30am-8.30pm and Saturday 1pm-4.30pm) e-mail: [email protected]

b-eat youthline (for under 25’s with eating disorders): 08456347650 (open Mon-Fri 4.30pm - 8.30pm, Saturday 1pm-4.30pm)

Cruse Bereavement Care: 08444779400 e-mail: [email protected]

Frank (information and advice on drugs): 0800776600

Drinkline: 0800 9178282

Rape Crisis England & Wales: 0808 802 9999 1(open 2 - 2.30pm 7 - 9.30pm) e-mail [email protected]

Rape Crisis Scotland: 08088 01 03 02 every day, 6pm to midnight

India Self Harm Hotline: 00 08001006614

India Suicide Helpline: 022-27546669

Kids Help Phone (Canada): 1-800-668-6868

FREE 24/7 suicide hotlines:

Argentina: 54-0223-493-0430

Australia: 13-11-14

Austria: 01-713-3374

Barbados: 429-9999

Belgium: 106

Botswana: 391-1270

Brazil: 21-233-9191

China: 852-2382-0000

(Hong Kong: 2389-2222)

Costa Rica: 606-253-5439

Croatia: 01-4833-888

Cyprus: 357-77-77-72-67

Czech Republic: 222-580-697, 476-701-908

Denmark: 70-201-201

Egypt: 762-1602

Estonia: 6-558-088

Finland: 040-5032199

France: 01-45-39-4000

Germany: 0800-181-0721

Greece: 1018

Guatemala: 502-234-1239

Holland: 0900-0767

Honduras: 504-237-3623

Hungary: 06-80-820-111

Iceland: 44-0-8457-90-90-90

Israel: 09-8892333

Italy: 06-705-4444

Japan: 3-5286-9090

Latvia: 6722-2922, 2772-2292

Malaysia: 03-756-8144

(Singapore: 1-800-221-4444)

Mexico: 525-510-2550

Netherlands: 0900-0767

New Zealand: 4-473-9739

New Guinea: 675-326-0011

Nicaragua: 505-268-6171

Norway: 47-815-33-300

Philippines: 02-896-9191

Poland: 52-70-000

Portugal: 239-72-10-10

Russia: 8-20-222-82-10

Spain: 91-459-00-50

South Africa: 0861-322-322

South Korea: 2-715-8600

Sweden: 031-711-2400

Switzerland: 143

Taiwan: 0800-788-995

Thailand: 02-249-9977

Trinidad and Tobago: 868-645-2800

Ukraine: 0487-327715

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• You go to Wawa and always see the same guy standing outside smoking a cigarette. It’s always either really busy or completely empty when you go in. Nothing feels real.

• Everybody knows the story of the Jersey Devil but nobody has actually “seen” it.

• “It’s like tree city in South Jersey” someone laughs. You laugh too. As you do you notice the woods around your house seem to have inched even closer. Your smile becomes strained.

• You lie in bed at night, wide awake. With or without the window open you can hear the tree frogs screaming. Always screaming.

• You drive by the marsh lands and smell the bay mud. The scent of death. You pretend you don’t want to cry as you fake a smile. Smells like home.

• Shoebies flock to the shore. Traffic is backed up for miles. You can’t move. There’s no way out.

• “Let’s spend the weekend in Atlantic City,” they say. They never return. No one ever returns.

• You drive down the road, attempting to avoid pot holes. It’s no use. The entire road is one big pot hole from hell.

you were sent to the library a while ago but the purpose of your visit is unknown to you. “i need you to go to the library for me”. it drones on and on in your mind.

you hear the screaming down the hall at least once a day. no one says anything. we dont know what may happen if we do.

every school has a basement, or even a sub-basement. weve never been to it but we know its there for us.

the applause in the cafeteria started from nowhere, and ceased just as quickly as it started. no one knows where it originated.

its gym class. “were running today”. everyone knows that once you start running its impossible to stop.

in every school there are a few empty classrooms. sometimes you can peel back the old paper covering the windows and see whats inside, but i wouldnt recommend it.

theres an outbuilding that used to be used to heat up the school its not supposed to be used anymore, but sometimes you see smoke rising from its old chimney. youre sure of it.

school hours have been shortened due to district budget cuts. no one ever sees the teachers leave in the afternoon. we never see them leave the school.

everything goes smoothly, up until rain starts falling. the students raise their heads one by one to stare out the windows.

sometimes our school runs out of paper. we can no longer print documents or worksheets or office referrals. everything comes to a halt. even when unable to function, we must return to school.

you hear someone yell down the hallway “WHAT TEAM?” the answer is wildcats, apparently. our school mascot is a gryphon. we dont have team sports.

- you can’t travel a mile without passing a lake. you’re not really sure where all these lakes have come from, you’re miles from any river or source of water, but no one seems to question it. every so often you pass a lake and find that, seemingly overnight, it has turned into a swamp populated by turtles and who knows what else.

- you live between two cemeteries. most of your friends do too. during the night you can hear tapping on your window, it quickly turns to hammering; you walk over to your window and find it covered in hairline fractures. when you wake up the next morning your window is as smooth and unbroken as a piece of silk.

- there’s a pothole on the road that leads to your school. everyone knows to swerve around it. you swear that everyday it gets a little deeper. no one listens. one day the quarterback doesn’t show up to bio, during lunch you watch as a crane pulls his car out of the pothole that is now a giant chasm. you told them this would happen.

- there are five diners in your town. they are all open 24 hours a day seven days a week. no one who goes in past twelve comes out. One day you peer through the dusty glass at the hostess. She smiles at you toothily and winks with all 278 eyes. you don’t go back.

- you have your exit memorized. so does everyone. your friend is from oklahoma. you ask her what her exit ways and she looks at you strangely and says she doesn’t know. you begin to wonder that maybe memorizing this combination of letters and numbers isn’t as normal as you thought.

- it is an unspoken rule: don’t pump your own gas. of course this is technically untrue, it’s illegal to pump your own gas so it must be spoken about somewhere. perhaps trenton. one day you pull up to the gas station and find it empty. you are about to get out of your car when you notice movement out of the corner of your eye. the gas hose is shaking in it’s holder. something black and oozing leaks out of the nozzle. you turn your car on and drive away. it follows the movement of your car until you’re out of sight. the next time you go to get gas the attendants are back and look at you oddly when you ask where they were yesterday.

Moonlight Serenade playing from another room

Not here, and not yet, but it’s the thought that weighs heavily on your minds. It threatens to disrupt the peaceful reprieve you have both managed to seek out from the party. Away from that crowded, smoky dance floor, and out into the gardens, where the evening is cool and fragrant. Everything is muted out here, softer, both sound and sight. 

Alone together. One offers a hand, the other takes it, and you begin to dance. 

For now, the idea of war is an ocean away. For now, you have the golden streams of light that spill out from the French windows, letting your shadows on the wet cobblestone stretch longer as you sway to a muffled tune. 

Neither of you speak. The atmosphere is rich and dense with the delicate swell of instrumentals, the cloying scent of hyacinths, with the weight of words left unsaid. It’s a last dance. It’s a goodbye. But above all, it is a theft. Possibilities, moments in time, the growth of something more, all taken away by forces much larger than either of you. 

Your eyes drift closed, and everything fades to the back of your mind except for the person in front of you. Your awareness has narrowed down to a few sensations, cataloguing them in your mind and stashing them away for safe keeping. Hands clasped together, a soft cheek leaning on a wool-clad shoulder, a hushed sigh close to an ear. Hair being brushed back, the sweep of eyelashes over cheekbone, the reassuring warmth of another person. 

Chest to chest, heart to heart. You wish that this dance would never end, continue like the constant, never changing cadence of the music. You wish that you could capture this moment in amber, moving neither forwards or backwards, only a gentle sway to a distant song.