Ravens, Flowers and all the other Bloody stuff

The best people are always the crazy

How the fuck did I come into this situation?! At first, I had a nice day (and that in a long time), didn't think that something would happen and now I'm standing here with a gun in my hand.

The school year actually started pretty normal, like every other year. I woke up, got to school and the first thing I thought, as I got to my seat, was: I want to go home. Everyone was as annoying as usual. You should know one thing about me. I'm a Goth. I wear black clothing; I have piercings and I wear black makeup. And the first thing, in the morning, I do NOT want to hear is from a brown-haired, snob bitch that it's her birthday. But that's exactly what happened. „You know when it's someone's birthday, everybody actually has a gift. And that includes you too, Wendy. So. Where is it? "Insisted Carol or how I like to call her: the rich bitch. I just gave her an annoyed look: „Where's what? ", „You know, my present. ", „.... Oh yeah, I remember. I do actually have something for you! ", admitted I as I grabbed my bag and started searching. You know what the present was? My beautiful middle finger. She just turned around, saying nothing and I knew, I wouldn't be bothered by her the next 48 hours. And that's exactly what I want. To not be bothered by anyone. And to leave as soon as possible. I do have some friends, but most of them are already finished with school or just got kicked out. I thought about getting kicked out too, but still, it would be better to stay so I can get a job afterwards. Anyways I was sitting there minding my business. I watched as the rich bitch got presents and how everyone congratulated her. Those little shits think, if they are nice to her, she wouldn't „tell daddy how mean they are. "Her dad is a company owner and her mom an actress always flying around the world. It's annoying. She thinks because her parents have good jobs and she gets money, that she rules over the school and everyone inside. Except me. She tried many times to make me her slave, but I'm a stubborn woman who can't get ordered by a little snob. No one orders me. Not her or anyone else. Not even the teachers. ...Ok maybe them, only because through their lessons I can get good grades and then a good job. Still, school is boring. All we do is sit around and stare at the board or at the teacher. I mean if we could do something fun like presentations or I don't know what else, then maybe we all would even listen. Yet here we sit. I'm not even listening anymore. Instead, I draw in my notebook. A little skull in the left corner and a little stick figure who gets shot in the right corner of the sheet. Maybe even a few stars would be nice. Or maybe- „Miss Brooks are you even listening?!" I flinched and looked up seeing Mr. Myers standing right in front of me. This fucker gave me a heart attack! „I'm sorry Mr. Myers ", murmured I as I looked down at my sheet again. „Just saying sorry doesn't change the fact, that you're not listening. Detention after class.", insisted Mr. Motherfucker. I wish for him to have the worst nightmare tonight. The whole class started laughing at me. Well then, one day I will just come to their doors and bring Mr. sniper with me. Maybe introducing them would be nice.

After a long day of not listening and sleeping in detention I grabbed my stuff, got on the train and got to Central Park. You thought I would go home. Hell no, at this time my parents would just scream at each other about bills or why dad is drunk or even something else. I rather stay in Central Park, at my favorite place, than coming home and getting shouted at why I'm late. It's already dark, but it's not cold. There are only a few people in the park left, but in about an hour I would be all alone. So peaceful. Lying at night, in a park, on a bench and looking at the stars is one of the only things that I love doing. It's so peacefully quiet. I wish to be alone, no one saying what I should do or where I should go. Just me alone with the stars. My Granny always told me, that the stars are just angels from heaven leading the ones who are lost, from the sky above. They watch over us. And protect us from evil. Having a guardian would be cool. They could just give everyone who wants to hurt me a nice slap in the face. And then they would yeet them to the moon. .... If I would have a guardian, I wish to see them. Or at least finding my soulmate. Yeah, finding my soulmate would be cool. But it must be a wonder, that someone would like me. They must be pretty crazy then. I looked at my phone. 22:00...Mum and Dad must be in bed already. I should better go now. See you Granny. I miss you.

My parents don't really look where I am, so it's easier for me to sneak in or out. They never really cared about what I'm doing. One time when I was four, I got kidnapped by someone and I was missing for almost a month. They didn't even tell the police. But I have to admit this was the best month ever. The guy who kidnapped me was just lonely and wanted a kid. But he was mentally ill so he wasn't allowed to adopt one. He gave me ice cream and even got with me to a fun park for kids. My parents never did something like this with me. This guy even bought me a new dress. He was cool. But afterwards he understood what he had done was wrong, so he brang me back to the playground, where a police officer found me. I still visit him sometimes in the mental hospital. He has hallucinations and slight ticks but he's chill about it. He even makes jokes about his illness. Sadly, his illness is so bad, that he even forgot who he was. I just call him Spencer. Don't know why, although he does look like a Spencer to me. And he calls me Nina, what means little girl. I like it. He's more family for me then my own parents. And I have a lot of fun. One thing that's kinda cute about him is that he always holds my hands when we talk. Holding my hands means for him that I'm real. He likes me a lot so he fears that I'm just an imagination and everything we did was not real. But every time when I come visit him, I hold his hands and let him feel my heartbeat, so he himself is sure that I'm real. Sometimes I wish he was my real dad and my parents just kidnapped me. Now that I think about it, the only person who loves me is my old kidnapper with mental disorder. I guess it's true what the crazy Hatmaker from Alice in Wonderland said: The best people are always the crazy.