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I remember the last thing I packed away in my suitcase before leaving. My room was nothing but a stripped bed, and empty shelves containing memories that didn’t last long in the first place. I had a bag draped over my scrawny shoulder, and a suitcase that could probably fit a dead body in it to my left. I felt out of place to say the least… in my own fucking room.
I held a picture in my hand. My best friend through childhood, crazy ass fucker that he was. The only picture I wouldn’t let him have.
There were so many memories with each step I took out of that house though… to my surprise. Like the time I fell down the stairs and broke my arm, or the other time I nearly caught the kitchen on fire trying to make my dad breakfast after my mom… well that’s another topic I don’t want to get into. There were good, and bad, enlightening and heart-breaking… I cherished them all though, knowing I have to leave them behind once I step out that door.
My dad waited there, a smile on his face, swinging his keys around one finger and watching me with mild interest plastered over his face. “Ready to do go, kiddo?”
I grimaced, that fucking nick name.
“Jesus, dad, not a kid anymore. I’m 20! Leaving for college, look I even have these huge fucking bags you’re making me carry. All. By. My. Self.” I emphasized with a scowl which he laughed off before going into detail about the hardships of his ‘youth’. I wish I could’ve banged my head against the wall while putting my shoes on.
He left the door open as he walked out, going to start the car. It gave me the chance to stall one last time and breathe it all in.
I’m Karkat Vantas, I can do this. I’m ready for college… I’m ready for a new life. No room for doubt.
I was leaving for Texas to go study cinematography. Austin, to be exact. I knew a few people there, so I wouldn’t exactly be alone, but I can’t say I enjoy any of their company… with how obnoxiously tweeny they are.
But that’s beside the point. I was going to college, ta-daaa! Cinematography, as I mentioned. You see, I love movies. Well, more like I love a specific genre of movies. Romantic comedies… if you must know. But you see, I want to be able to capture each moment of emotion with my work and make audiences bow to my amazing talents! Basically… I wanted to film emotional shit to convey my emotional shit.
I glanced at the slightly whiter part of the roof in the hallway, remembering I “accidentally” blasted a hole in it with some fireworks on the 4th of my 8th year in life. I felt my lips crack a bit before I turned, my dad honking at me.
“Come on, Kar, we’re gonna be late for orientation. AKA my chance to ruin your experience of college life.” He snickered, earning the finger from me.
As I rolled out of there with the body box of a suitcase, I caught glimpse of myself in the hallway mirror.
God, I was pathetic.
Dark, cherry-brown hair with freak eyes that I will not mention. A light splotch of freckles over my nose, and a skinny, poor excuse of a man’s body wrapped in skin. The bags under said freak eyes that I hid behind contacts were ghastly, emphasizing how much I hated sleep and how much I dreamed about a life. God, even my hair wasn’t cooperating, a shaggy fucking mess. I straightened the red sweatshirt that hung around my hips and met my slouchy skinny jeans to black converse.
Fucking fantastic.
I closed the door, making sure it was locked with a tight and well executed slam and loaded my shit into the little red car my dad bought off a cheap dealer. He liked to call it the Crab Cooker for some reason… I fathomed it NOT.
Jesus everything was red when it came to him, the old crab himself.
As we pulled out of the driveway, him droning about a new start; I let my gaze rest on the quaint, white house we passed. The house that used to fit my best friend, his older brother, his father, and his three crazy as fuck dogs before he moved the summer of our 8th year in school… God I missed that fuckface, but I never told him that, even after we lost contact three years ago, my sophomore year…
“You listening?” I heard my dad’s voice, which caused me to momentarily look at him through my bangs.
“No, not really.” I answered honestly, which earned a sigh and an even longer rant. I leaned my seat back, knowing the ten hours ahead of me were going to be long, and relaly annoying with crabdad droning on and on in his raspy… old man voice.

Description
I remember the last thing I packed away in my suitcase before leaving. My room was nothing but a stripped bed, and empty shelves containing memories that didn’t last long in the first place. I had a bag draped over my scrawny shoulder, and a suitcase that could probably fit a dead body in it to my left. I felt out of place to say the least… in my own fucking room.
I held a picture in my hand. My best friend through childhood, crazy ass fucker that he was. The only picture I wouldn’t let him have.
There were so many memories with each step I took out of that house though… to my surprise. Like the time I fell down the stairs and broke my arm, or the other time I nearly caught the kitchen on fire trying to make my dad breakfast after my mom… well that’s another topic I don’t want to get into. There were good, and bad, enlightening and heart-breaking… I cherished them all though, knowing I have to leave them behind once I step out that door.
My dad waited there, a smile on his face, swinging his keys around one finger and watching me with mild interest plastered over his face. “Ready to do go, kiddo?”
I grimaced, that fucking nick name.
“Jesus, dad, not a kid anymore. I’m 20! Leaving for college, look I even have these huge fucking bags you’re making me carry. All. By. My. Self.” I emphasized with a scowl which he laughed off before going into detail about the hardships of his ‘youth’. I wish I could’ve banged my head against the wall while putting my shoes on.
He left the door open as he walked out, going to start the car. It gave me the chance to stall one last time and breathe it all in.
I’m Karkat Vantas, I can do this. I’m ready for college… I’m ready for a new life. No room for doubt.
I was leaving for Texas to go study cinematography. Austin, to be exact. I knew a few people there, so I wouldn’t exactly be alone, but I can’t say I enjoy any of their company… with how obnoxiously tweeny they are.
But that’s beside the point. I was going to college, ta-daaa! Cinematography, as I mentioned. You see, I love movies. Well, more like I love a specific genre of movies. Romantic comedies… if you must know. But you see, I want to be able to capture each moment of emotion with my work and make audiences bow to my amazing talents! Basically… I wanted to film emotional shit to convey my emotional shit.
I glanced at the slightly whiter part of the roof in the hallway, remembering I “accidentally” blasted a hole in it with some fireworks on the 4th of my 8th year in life. I felt my lips crack a bit before I turned, my dad honking at me.
“Come on, Kar, we’re gonna be late for orientation. AKA my chance to ruin your experience of college life.” He snickered, earning the finger from me.
As I rolled out of there with the body box of a suitcase, I caught glimpse of myself in the hallway mirror.
God, I was pathetic.
Dark, cherry-brown hair with freak eyes that I will not mention. A light splotch of freckles over my nose, and a skinny, poor excuse of a man’s body wrapped in skin. The bags under said freak eyes that I hid behind contacts were ghastly, emphasizing how much I hated sleep and how much I dreamed about a life. God, even my hair wasn’t cooperating, a shaggy fucking mess. I straightened the red sweatshirt that hung around my hips and met my slouchy skinny jeans to black converse.
Fucking fantastic.
I closed the door, making sure it was locked with a tight and well executed slam and loaded my shit into the little red car my dad bought off a cheap dealer. He liked to call it the Crab Cooker for some reason… I fathomed it NOT.
Jesus everything was red when it came to him, the old crab himself.
As we pulled out of the driveway, him droning about a new start; I let my gaze rest on the quaint, white house we passed. The house that used to fit my best friend, his older brother, his father, and his three crazy as fuck dogs before he moved the summer of our 8th year in school… God I missed that fuckface, but I never told him that, even after we lost contact three years ago, my sophomore year…
“You listening?” I heard my dad’s voice, which caused me to momentarily look at him through my bangs.
“No, not really.” I answered honestly, which earned a sigh and an even longer rant. I leaned my seat back, knowing the ten hours ahead of me were going to be long, and relaly annoying with crabdad droning on and on in his raspy… old man voice.