We Were Made Faulty

Chapter One ➵ Sweet Little Pill, Take Me Away

Society just seems so obsessed with constant perfection. Perfect grades, perfect face, perfect personality, you name it.

I find it mesmerizing actually -- how they try to candy coat everything. It tries to reassure you that everything will be okay. Even if you know it will never be okay.

Life's a bitch like that.

You wake up to ash and dust, even if all you see is the candy coated world that's been laid out before you. You don't realize how deep you're in until your lungs start to die out. Only to realize how much crap you still have to go through until you just burn out. And you're too late to go back to the person you were before.

Things like that make us who we are, whether we like it or not. We were made not to be cliché xerox copies. We were made to commit mistakes and eventually grow from those mistakes.

We were made faulty.

 

<>CHAPTER ONE: SWEET LITTLE PILL, TAKE ME AWAY<>

I'm a mess -- my eyes are swollen, someone could practically use my hair as a mop at this point, my pillow is more than damp, I have snot clogging up my nose so I have to breathe through my mouth, which seems almost impossible since i'm so out of breath. I rarely cry so that was probably the fault of sixteen years worth of tears.

I don't know why i'm crying. I usually don't care about these kind of things. I usually don't care about these people and what they say about me.

I have learned two things today. One, never mess with the social food chain or even doubt it in the first place. Two, never underestimate the power of blue bolt gatorade and superficial barbie xerox copies.

I never go to school games, let alone show any hint of school spirit. I mean why would I be proud of a low ranking school filled with ill-advised rich kids with nothing but fake friends. Still, approximately two hours ago I went to the football game. Why? I don't know -- well actually I do know. It's because I let my ignorance reign dominant over me, and for what? For one stupid, selfish boy.

Peter Holmes, more like Peter makes my horHolmes crazy. Correction, made. I should have known that his sudden kindness to me was bogus. After all he never really did notice that I was a living life form on this planet before. His sarcastic humor was alluring but it was his "love" for books and indie music that took away my sanity and snapped me out of my conscience. Alas, it was all an act.

I had gone to the game in hopes of broadening our "relationship", and also because he had invited me. I left in the middle of half-time -- not because I realized that he would never look at me "that way", but because I had to wash the stickiness and embarrassment away.

A bunch of cheerleaders poured blue bolt gatorade all over me, go figure. Not only was I disgusted because I absolutely despise blue bolt, but I was dissapointed. Not in Peter, but in myself for being so clueless. I knew this was coming but I was just too oblivious to snap back to reality. I wasn't one of them, Peter would never like someone like me.

No, that wasn't the reason I leaped into bed and started sobbing uncontrollably.