Your pants look better on my floor ;)

Your pants look better on my floor ;) CH5!

"It hurts to know; all those sleepless nights i thought of you, - you thought of /her/"

& telll me babbby; pretttty babby, what's so special about /her/?

some say; she's everything i'm not.

but those cockheads got it wrong ;;

i'm everything, she's not.

:D

ENNJJJJOY<3

this is oneee, cute chapter.

**

It's been two days in hell. Although, I'm pretty sure hell sounds much more refined. This place is a cruel death whole; sucking in any feelings of hatred towards anyone. It's like a vacuum cleaner with a broken off button, if not worse.

"We've enrolled you in school." The swan speaks gracefully, scoffing down her fresh broccoli as if it's the most appetizing dessert ever to be served.

I choke on my steak; praying to God I've misunderstood her statement. I've just been transferred into a foster home, lost contact with my past life, and am suffering from the loss of my mother /and/ they expect me to go to some revolting disciplined place?

The news was hard to deal with. When I first found out about my mother's suicide; I cried. I know I shouldn't have, because of the cruel things she's performed on me, but for god's sake; she's my mother. The pain she brought upon me was horrific. But I let her hurt me - tear me apart. I didn't ease my own torture, I just made it worse. I existed for the pain she executed, without realizing there were more reasons to survive on.

I picked heroin. Than hookah, sometimes beer would do the trick. Whatever distracted me; I'm not an addict - I just can't live without drugs or drinking.

"Vince can show you around." Mr. Swan suggested eyeballing his soup. He's a silenced man, who just so happens to be a genius.

I find him fascinating; not in a creepy rapist way, but in the kind where his outlook on life is unruffled and serene. It amuses me on how his perspective never can be dull, either something is always right or wrong. It's a personality like no other, a special trait with an immense affect on the rest of the world.

I stare down Vince, who's been ignoring me as long as I've been here. He's poking at his food uncomfortably until he finally looks up and catches my gaze. I don't pull away; instead, I let my eyes rest on his for a few short moments as if his courage and warmth might rub off on me somehow and help me stand strong - on my own.

But then again, maybe this is my imagination and everything that is occurring is just a pigment of a visualized dream.

"I'm busy." He announces, than marches back to gobbling down his food.

I know people don't like me; I know I scare them off, but they always have a reason. It's because I'm loud and too careless, or self conceited and too obnoxious - but it's always /something/. Vince though, has not a single right to hate me. I've done nothing to him. Actually, I've been a bit pleasant if anything. So why does he have so much abhorrence and odium towards me? It's almost as if I disgust apart of him.

But it's not like I care or anything. Because I don't; I have more vital things to be concerned about. And Vince just doesn't fit under the category.

"Fucking liar." I cough quietly, but I know everyone hears me. I'm pleased that they don't think they've changed me yet; and I hope they receive the delightful hint that most likely they never will.

"I'm not. I have soccer tryouts, debate team, and Spanish club to worry about. I don't need another problem."

"So now I'm a problem? Good, at least something's clear." I share, although inside I'm melting. Because right now; nothing is clear. Everything is blurry and mystified - and when I say /everything/, all I really mean is the /future/.

"Don't be ridiculous. Tomorrow can join all of the same activities." The women swan coughs up.

I ignore her idea, and just correct her; "it's Tom."

"I'm sure Tomorrow wouldn't be slightly interested in the activities I perform." Vince objects and for the first time I want to plot on my knees and thank him.

Of course I don't, because that would be impractical and rather creepy. So instead I poke at my food some more. I think about how I don't remember having a sit down dinner; everything is usually on the go. Not that I minded because it was much more satisfying than this crap.

Realizing I wouldn't be able to scoff this shit down my throat - even by force - I casually excused myself from the table and tumbled upstairs.

An unexpected brightness flittered around the room as I turned on the lights; it was excessively bright and I decided to flicker them back off. Instead I found myself glued to the window, embracing the pitter patter of the rain.

It was like an elastic melody; a harmony so yielding, I felt as if it would be able to devour any malicious motions out of my soul. It was so beautifully calm it soaked up every wicked pour out of my body. The blissful rain outside, was a soundtrack from the heavens. And with everything so ballistic now, it was the only soothing thing I had to remind me of sanity.

"What are you thinking about?" Startled, I jumped in shock; I hadn't heard Vince come in. He was leaning against the cerulean wall, crossing his arms with a grin melted across his face.

"I'm not." I replied honestly, not bothered he was here - although I should be. I wasn't fascinating with company but yet again; I wasn't fascinating with being alone.

"So you're just listening to rain pour?" I couldn't tell if he thought I was dim witted moron or actually an intellectual person.

"I guess so." I hadn't realized how pathetic it sounded until I'd spoken it aloud. But it was already too late to take it back, once something is exhaled; don't waste your breath sucking it in. Once it's out there, there is no turning back.

But Vince didn't say anything after that, didn't even rock his head back and forth like usually. Instead he found himself comfortable next to me, on the floor - as if this was normal.

"You ever kissed in the rain?" He asked me cautiously as if he wasn't sure if talking about anything physical was a bad idea. Which it was but it was too late to stop him now, he's already crossed over to the dangerous zone.

"You ever kissed at all?" I shot back; just because I hadn't kissed in the rain. I wouldn't come off to you as the girl who cared about such sappy romantic stuff, but it still would be a mesmerizing experiment, maybe even a little nice.

"I'll take that as no."

"Kissing in the rain is overrated." I told him. "And it'd be too wet."

"We should try it sometime than." He collected himself of the screeching wood floor and shuffled away; as if he didn't just say the most appealing thing ever.