Love Never Fails

Chapter 1: Disregarded

Life is a tragedy. Life is a shock. Shock therapy. Does that sounds like too much violence? If it does, just sit back and wait.

There are things way worse than shock therapy.

The steady rhythm of rain hit the frosted glass like sharpened needles. The weather was chilly here in the city of New York City, New York, and as always, the temperature was dropping fast. Along with the pouring rain, and the not-so-calming winds that had progressed over the past few days, life was silent and still. If you didn't count the constant roar of traffic and the irredescent blinking of never ending light, that is. The week was a luminous sneer against the tiny, overlapping pitter patter of raindrops that draped over the days of Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday.

Today was Friday, and the weather couldn't be uglier.

Storms were monsters in your closet, the kind you couldn't chase away. Or, in other words, a stationary front. Nerds, you're welcome. Now I sit, watching with nonchalant blue eyes as the world wastes away in front of me, and time passes by. I ditched school.

Thank you, Karma.

I know I'm a bad influence.

Don't get any ideas.

Something told me I should get my lazy butt up and walk around until I found something to do, but my inner conscience told me to sit and wait. My parents would get home and literally kill me for staying out of school. Now, if you were a reasonable, more sophisticated person, you would understand that it was a live or die, fight or flight reaction. I couldn't conquer it. I guess that makes me weak, too?

Yeah, go ahead, laugh.

You know you want to.

The simple fact is, it was raining, I was freezing cold, and you cannot, will not, get me up during these times. Unless of an emergency, where, parsay, my leg mysteriously fell off and I crumpled to the floor, then, then I would get up. Or crawl. Whatever the situation demanded. This was not supply and demand, and businesses were running smoothly.

Think whatever you want.

I, Cody Maverick, solemnly swear- Yeah, right. I was the sarcastic, frantic, idiotic loser with a skateboard and nothing but my own wits. How could you trust that? I mean, c'mon, people. You know an Emo when you see one.

I was the jerk who cared nothing about other people, or how they acted, or what they did. The guy with the tight skinny jeans, the black jacket, black hair, and ice blue eyes. A little touch here and there, give or take. Wanna shake my hand? Yeah, thought not.

Needless to say, if the government passed by me, and people were mobbing the streets, or the president just happened to walk across these hoplessely deserted streets of New York City, I'd be the innocent bystander. If the guy looked me in the eye, and told me that a speech or some other major circumstance of politics was to be discussed, and I needed to move, or to meet the president, I'd stand stand there and say, "What president?"

Yes, because I'm that stupid.

Or not.

Opposite to that, and to this upcoming humiliating thought, I give myself a thumbs up. No, this is not Youtube. I am not the one to smile. Here's the thing: I'm romantic, passionate, caring, loyal, and respectful. This time, you gotta laugh with me.

It's some type of rare disease, I know.

This man is made to suffer.

Bring it on.

Now to the good stuff. Enough about me, and my pathetic excuse for a life. Sadly, people, it won't get you anywhere. But I hope I'd be able to become that famous Hollywood star. Imagine me, striking a pose in front of possesive cameras, hungry for attention.