A sigh escapes the young teen’s lips, his eyes fixed on the black screen of his cellular phone; in his back pocket resides a charger cord, but one that is so frayed it’s beyond use. It needs to be thrown away. Annoyance seems to seep from his very being as he taps his foot, trying to see if he can get the phone to power back on long enough to make a call, unconcerned with the dangers that can come from sitting on the side of the road.

“You aren’t suppose to park there.”

      ❝I um, know we weren’t able to get that one pretty car you want so—❞ After shuffling through her purse she pulled out a tiny replica of the car they were admiring. ❝I know it’s not the same but I got this for you anyways.❞

#CHARACTER LIMITS ARE A BITCH

You then get 500 more snapchats explaining the meaning of life in small black lines across the screen.

     Her rats weren’t afraid, so neither was she, though she had to admit that it made for a bit of an unfortunate timing. So much for getting food. “Don’t say anything! Let me guess. You’re Irish and you’re looking for something very important to you.”

pLS