I unscrewed the frozen beer's lid and flung it across the room. I was actually aiming for the trash can, but I'm not that good at tossing things into the distance. One time back in high school, I threw a volleyball ball to my classmate, and that ball magically changed its direction and smacked the PE teacher right in the head.

Ugh, I hate thinking about my high school years; it causes static hair to form on my arms. I sound like a little kid complaining, but those years were torment for me.

"Now, class, you'll be all paired into groups. So it would be fair; you'll all choose a scrap of paper from my hat, and whoever's name is written down, you'll be paired with. Choose three papers, please!" The teacher yelled through the loud kids, talking over each other like some animals from the zoo. I looked around the class; however, there wasn't a single person I wanted to be paired with. I was a lonely kid. Everyone was slowly distancing themselves from me over the years.

"Vivienne, you're next." The teacher called.

I got up from the chair and made my way to the front of the class. Everyone's eyes were fixated on me for an unknown reason. Were my clothes bad-looking, or was it my dark hair? What was wrong with me? Why were their eyes looking shamefully at me?

I dropped my hand into the teacher's hat, exploring the inside. As those pieces of paper scraped my hand, I grabbed three random pieces. I unfolded them and read the names written on them inside my head. I lifted my gaze to my classmates, and they all collectively held a scared expression on their faces-that one of them would be paired with me.

All of a sudden, the door burst open, and a principal stood at the threshold with pure horror overtaking his face. His eyes swiftly searched the room until they landed on me.

"Are you Vivienne Caddel?" He asked me loudly, his eyes popping out of his skull.

I dropped the three pieces of paper onto the floor as I started to shiver in terror. I had to answer to him, yet for some reason I was scared to admit that it was me who was looking for.

"Yes, this is her. What happened, Principal?" The teacher answered instead of me, placing her hands on my arms because my legs were on the verge of breaking.

The principal weirdly peered at the teacher, and with that, I was moved out of the classroom into the principal's office.

That was the day I found out my mother hanged herself.

I was only fifteen.

My father was absent in my life from the moment my mother carried me under her heart. My grandmother has taken care of me since my mother died. But my mother's death affected her in ways that were difficult for me to handle. She would call me by her name.

Lilian.

She would wake me up from my sleep, grabbing my hands with tears in her eyes and saying, "My dear Lily, I'm so happy you're alive. Please don't leave your mother again."

Grandmother partially lost her sanity, and the only thing keeping her alive was me or the image of my mother that she saw. Her split personality was terrifying to witness, especially to experience. One day she's completely herself, and the next day she's angry with me, and it's hard to recognize her.

"Dammit!" My grandma pulled me out of my memories. She picked the last bottle of beer out of the fridge, and that was a big problem for us.

She turned away from the fridge and focused her eyes on me. "Vivi, run to the grocery store and grab more bottles of beer, please."

"Sure." I jumped up from the comfy couch and snatched Grandma's wallet with my oversized hoodie before walking to the grocery store. I loved shopping by myself.

I breathed in the chilly air that night brought, hiding my hands inside the hoodie pocket. I entered the grocery store and quickly grabbed a case of beer and a cherry-flavored chapstick. On my way home, I swiftly applied the chapstick all over my cracked lip and opened one bottle of beer.

As I was near the graveyard, a couple of teenage boys crossed my path. I gripped the handle of the case tighter.

"What did you buy, little girl? Are you old enough to drink that?" One of the boys pointed to the opened beer in my hand, and the others laughed.

I stayed silent.

"Give them to us." Another boy inquired. I considered my choices and realized I had little chance of escaping from three guys.

This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it

I sighed and placed the case of beer down. "Yeah, sure, just give me a second," I said, digging through my hoodie pocket and finding a pepper spray that I had until now but never used.

I hastily aimed the pepper spray at the boys in front of me. The spray worked immediately, so I swiftly snatched the case of beer and ran with it, despite it slowing me down. I knew I wouldn't have made it home in time, so I chose to run to the graveyard.

The boys raced after me, regardless of seeing complete shit. Once I got into the deeper part of the graveyard, the group of guys decided to leave. I victoriously exhaled, opening a new bottle of beer. The cool liquid quickly ran down my throat, and I suddenly felt much calmer.

At that moment, I realized that this place was very creepy. The night was dark, full of trees around me and their shadows masking what was beyond them. I could only see a bit of what was surrounding me. Of course, the gravestones weren't hard to miss, as I was hiding behind one.

No lamps were properly working here. Only one that was flickering intermittently, making buzzing noises. I steadily circumvented the gravestone.

I ran into the deepest area, and I had no clue how to get out of here.

I kept on slowly breathing and wandered along the clean path in front of me. When I stumbled across the old oak tree next to me, I had to take a look-or, better to say, feel it.

The tree was located up on the hill, away from the gravestones. A couple of candles were lit around it. The shadows of the branches swayed in the wind. The leaves rustled like whispers, and the light of the moon illuminated my surroundings. The sound of crickets chirping in the background added to the eerie atmosphere.

I crashed down against the trunk of the oak, filling up my empty stomach with beer. Being further away from the dead folks showed me that the location wasn't as terrifying.

From one beer came five beers, and before I knew it, I got drunk.

Was the sky always so sparkly? And why were there numerous rocks lying around the ground? I had no idea.

Suddenly, someone in a black cloak crashed next to me, leaning against the trunk of the tree. I turned my head to see who was stupid enough to visit the graveyard at such an hour. (Definitely not including me.)

I couldn't see a thing, as everything looked blurry and unstable.

The mysterious individual in a cloak turned its head toward me, tilting its head to the left. I blinked repeatedly, trying to focus my sight, but in vain.

"You know, only lunatics visit graveyards when it's dark outside, and I'm sure no-no-no more than sure! You're one of the crazy 'people'." I said with confidence, air-quoting the last word. "The ones who don't fear the darkness, or, better to say, they live for the darkness. Are you one of them?" I added. My own insane words brought me to laughter.

The individual chose to be silent, just keeping his face in my direction. I still couldn't see their face; however, I felt their face were close to me, but just shadowy and full of unclear facial features.

I opened up a new bottle of beer and pressed it against the person sitting next to me. Once I felt a grip around the glass bottle, I let go and focused on drinking again, even though I shouldn't have.

Approximately five minutes of silence passed by.

"Oh goddammit! Say something or I'll go mad from the quietness." I burst out, tossing the now-empty bottle of beer away. I admit it, I was too drunk.

The clattering sound of the beer glass that hit some rock was the only response to my outburst, intensifying the deafening silence between us.

"I'm intrigued by the smell of your lips." He said. "Would you mind if I tasted them?" A deep and husky voice that belonged to a man finally spoke to me. But I didn't quite like what was coming out of his mouth.

I'm completely alone, with a man dressed in a cloak sitting next to me at the graveyard, I thought to myself. Emphasizing the word alone.

Have I gone mad? Grandma must be worried sick by now.

My vision was improving suddenly, probably from the shock I experienced. The man in front of me was like an out-of-horror movie. I should have rather kept drinking, I thought again.

I steadily stood up, hugging my chest. The man in the cloak beheld me; however, it was difficult to say where his gaze was directed. My heartbeat was pounding in my ears, and I realized I needed to move away from this ridiculously-looking man.

"I suppose I won't have a taste of your lips, huh? What a pity. I never imagined I would meet someone here at such an hour; however, I was clearly wrong." The man said cheerfully, and his hooded head moved up and down, probably checking out my body, which was covered anyway. Unlucky pervert.

"You know I never shared this wonderful place with anyone, which means you're special and should be honored that I like your company. Agh, people, please don't get mad at me, would you not? I still consider you all to be my friends, though there's not much to talk about with you when you're just bones and ashes." The man was looking at the gravestones when he was shouting and then laughed like I wasn't even there, hearing his insanity.

I took slow, tiny steps backward, thinking he wouldn't notice it. His hooded head tilted to one side, and with that, he swiftly stood up.

"Am I seeing badly, or you're backing away from me secretly, hoping I wouldn't notice it?" The man asked in a deeper voice than before. Chills spread over my body.

"No?" I said in an obvious tone.

I quickly looked behind me and caught sight of a car passing on the road before the cemetery gate. I finally knew the way out; however, the only obstacle was the mysterious man in front of me, who was clearly stronger and taller than me. That meant that running out of there wouldn't save me because he could catch me almost immediately.

Still, I gave it a try.

I turned around and ran the fastest my legs could. I could feel my heart pounding in my chest as I heard no footsteps behind me. I raced down the path in front of me, and just as I rounded the corner out of the cemetery, I glanced swiftly behind me, but to my surprise, no one was there. I slowed my pace and took a deep breath, relieved to be out of danger. I kept on running until I caught sight of my grandma's old, small house. I bent forward, pressing my hands on my knees. I coughed repeatedly. With sweat running down my forehead and pain in my chest, I gripped the knob of the door and got inside, locking the door. I slammed my back against the door, sliding down with tears collecting in my eyes.

"Child, where the hell have you been?? I send you to buy beer, not to travel to the moon!" Grandma yelled as she walked from the living room into the entrance hall.

Our eyes met, and her eyes went wide. She hurried to me, capturing my cheek. "Are you alright? What happened to you?" She asked, looking around me. "And where is that goddamn beer?"