Alejandro Quest

You wake up in your shitty apartment with your head pounding. The harsh sunlight casts its bright rays through your small window, its tendrils of light shining onto on your desk and shitty laptop. You groan and rub your temples, the night before lingering on the edge of your mind like a fever dream. Though you were only at the club as moral support for your friend as they tried to expand their horizon, the music and lights seemed to have really gotten to you. As your mind pulls apart each individual thought that happens to cross your conciousness, dissecting and examining every situation you've ever lived through, the silence is broken by a sharp electronic gliss. Your laptop screen jumps to life, it's unnatural blue hue deepening your already aching headache. You groan once again, closing your eyes for a brief second to pretend that your college dorm sized apartment was a condo and you weren't thousands of dollars in debt and on the verge of eviction. You swing your legs over your bed and shakily make your way to your chair. You sigh as you begin to click out of tabs and tabs of information and lists, containing everything from grocery lists to listings for new homes, far far away from New Jersey. You open your inbox and are instantly greeted with spam, promotions and single moms near you. As you're going through and deleting your unwanted mail, one stands out to you. The email is simply titled, "Help"