The stale air of this building makes my nose itch and I wonder what I’m doing here. I rub my eyes, tired from the night before, even though I went to bed at 9 while my friends got drunk off a few bottles of beer and some wine coolers in some kid’s basement. Tired, always tired. I look down at my fingers, dark blue polish chipping off, making my nails look messy and unkempt. A small eyelash rests on my knuckle, threatening to fall off and get lost in the linoleum floor filled with scuffmarks. I think carefully of a wish, feeling like I’m twelve and wishing for a boyfriend or a new Gameboy game again.

But this time, I wish for happiness.