When the lights went down, her spirit soared. She lived for this. She didn’t used too. A straight a student, a scholarship to a fancy school she wasn’t even interested in, a ‘loving’ relationship that everyone figured would end in marriage. It didn’t, nor would it ever. Not anymore. Her entire life had been smashed to beyond recognition the second that man shot up her entire family. Her boyfriend? He was that man. He killed her family because… well, she didn’t exactly know. He was messed up, always had been. Just an amazing actor.
The club was packed, wall to wall bodies were spinning, jumping, grinding, and only god knows what else. Music so loud she could feel it, she loved it, she needed it. The only good way to enjoy bass, was to feel it in your chest. It allows you to let go, to drop everything for once and just feel. Feel free, feel amazing, feel sexy and lovely and gorgeous and all those things she never felt when she wasn’t in a slutty dress grinding and getting felt up by some random guy or girl. She wasn’t skinny, she wasn’t fat. Monica Van Gor was Monica Van Gor. And after the accident she hated that. She hated herself, her house, her animals, and her family. Well, what was left of them anyway?  But she had learned not to. She had learned to let go, no matter what it took to do that.
The smell of drugs, alcohol, and sweat brought her nose up. A smile graced her face as she threw her hands up and just let her be her. This was her. Not some girl who got straight a’s and never cussed. She did drugs, and she f***ing loved them. She danced, had sex, and drank till she couldn’t remember how the scars on her stomach got there. Till she couldn’t remember just how f***ed up she was, and she loved it. It may have taken her parents and siblings’ death and her ‘loving’ boyfriend being thrown in jail to realize who she was, but she had found herself. And she had never been happier than she was right there in that club.