Short stories<333

Perspective My Reflection

Perception
Slamming my body heavily into the vending machine waiting for my purple monster to come rolling out, it doesnt, I kick the machine again and again angrily. My noir Doc Martins hitting the vending machine over and over again. Finally after what felt like eons it comes tumbling down the machine, with a loud thud.
     I guess you could say ive always been the black sheep of the family. My Burning red hair short and fluffy, untamed, wild. My style with bright patterns over dark colors. I feel as if i never fit in anywhere. I wlowly walk down the street with a lazzy swagger, not caring if i got to school on time. My bag lazily thrown over my shoulder as i walked on the cracked, damaged sidewalk. Metric blasts in my ears i feel like im in a movie, the main character feeling everything, but nothing all at once. Breathing deep, filling lungs with cool autumn air i pull open the doors to the school and walk in. Walking in imagining my hair blowing as i do, just like in the movies, all eyes on me i feel so alive. Music blaring in my ears, making me forget the reality of life, living in my fantasy makes everything and everyone go away.
Suddenly the bell rings pulling me out of my trance, and i remember im just a normal highschool, teenager. The day drags on and on the dreary weather outside calling me as i look out the window, i  should be out there not trapped in this classroom. Every class feels longer and longer, the day goes on and i feel as if i cant breathe. The looks people give, the quiet snickers , and whispers. I pop in my ear buds and disappear. Im the main charecter agin. Free, happy, careless. I feel brave again. I walk down the stroll down the halfway carelessly and run my fingers threw my hair pushing it back.
   Finally it is my  favorite class, the only reason i even come to this stupid school , why i get up at 5:30 every morning, Creative Writting.
Perception:
Perception, the greatest deception
Everyone seeing a different sight
Everyone making it threw a different night
Every morning we all act , like there is nothing we lack
There is always a story, behind all the glory
We look at ourselves threw the glass
Yet we still wonder why relationships dont last
We attract people that show us how we act
But still when they do something bad we react
Everyone seeing a different sight
Everyone making it threw a different night
Every morning we all act, that there is something we lack,
And that is the true vision of yourself threw the glass