Everyone has a story to tell, whether it's one that is made up or one that really happened. Whether it's a story of childhood memories, future hopes and dreams, things you think about when you're alone, vampires created from the depths of your soul or some sappy romance that you hope to one day experience, you've got a story too. Today it's my turn, my turn to share with you my story. The story about a misunderstood young woman who... Oh screw it. It's about me, living my crazy, abnormal, mixed up life in Hell; the story of my survival of the Concrete Jungle, AKA, High School.
Tears streamed down my face as I slammed my hand against the window, staring out at my Prince as the car slowly pulled away from the curb.
"LUKE!" I screamed his name for the fifth time through the rear window of our car. He stood silent on the sidewalk, hands jammed into his pockets, his gray Metallica shirt drenched in water, his short hair matted against his head, and busy droplets of water dripping off of his strong chin and cheekbones. Finally he looked up.
"I LOVE YOU!" I sobbed, sitting on my knees in the backseat with my face pressed nearly against the window.
"Turn around Drama Queen and put your seat belt on." My mother eyed me through the rear view mirror as my brother laughed in the front seat.
"You sooooo don't even get it. Why can't you just understand that I love him?!" I pouted, crossing my arms over my chest and sinking down onto my seat as hot tears continued to race down my face.
"Biddy, sweet pea, I'm sorry. I really am, but we need to do this. Troy is going to be so happy to finally meet you two and this was the perfect time to leave." She gave me "those" eyes, the ones that had gotten me to pack up my stuff and kiss my perfect boy-friend goodbye.
"Whatever. This is so unfair." I scoffed and then whispered the sentence that opened up a whole new can of worms.
A tear peeked out of the corner of her eye and slowly made its way down her face.
"Aw, Beeeee, now look at what you did." My brother whined in that teenage boy way, resting his head against the window and covering his eyes with his hand.
"Look Bid, I know I'm not the best mother but I'm just trying to do what's best for us, okay?" She sobbed, gripping the wheel with one hand and trying to wipe the tears away with the other hand, all while looking at me through the mirror and swerving back and forth on the street.
"No mom. You're doing what's best for you! We're been to 14 different schools, lived in 14 different towns, scattered across 3 different states." I started, repeating my life story to her as if she hadn't heard it before. Nope, this made number 15.
"Well-", she sobbed, trying to get a handle on her emotions.
"ALL IN THE LAST 2 YEARS! I mean, it's not even like we EVER have a reason to leave! I'm sick of moving already!" I rambled on, releasing some of my wrath on her already tired ears.
"B! Give it a bloody rest already! She's stressed out enough as it is, so just QUIT IT!" Thomas peered around his seat to snap at me.
"Screw you Mamas boy!" I flipped him the bird and stuck my headphones in my ears, hoping to tune out my life for a while.
3 Days Later
We pulled into the parking lot and the car jerked to a stop. I meekly looked out at the gray building with its dark blue roof and sighed.
"Prison." I whispered, opening the car door.
"No, B. School." My mother laughed.
"No more trouble kids, okay? Now, go out there and be all you can be!" She smiled at my brother and I, and winked.
"Ew Mom. No pep talk okay?" I rolled my eyes and forced myself out of the car.
I inhaled sharply and took in the aroma of exhaust and some bypassing kids 5 ounces of cologne. I looked around at the moving sea of dull, boring gray blazers and hideous blue and red ties. Girls in their long pleated skirts and boys in their ugly gray slacks and shiny black shoes.
"UGH. What a vapid, disgusting, little prison." I groaned as I looked around the parking lot at people chattering and girls throwing themselves at what I could only guess were the "popular boys".
"Give em hell loser." My brother laughed and looked down at me, tossing his head, flicking loose strands of hair from his eyes.
I watched him cruise over to the group of boys and stick out his hand.