What the French Toast

Chapter Three: Paris Is Beautiful....At Midnight

I know I have neglected this story...a lot. Call child servecies on me for having a life! I'm sorry to those who read and for the new comers.....I have nothing to say that will be used against me in the court of law! Apart from my weirdo-ness,yes I add -ness when a word does not have it or is not suppose to have it, the days of summer have finally survived and now fill my life. So No more negloect on my side. I promise. Or at least until summer is over. ;)

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Chapter 3. Paris Is Beautiful...At Midnight

After being so fully intoxicated by the smell of strangers and next people I wanted to walk. To run! Run away from my now present ideas of life. The new aspects I call people. Maybe it was different at one point. Fuck! I know at one point it was different. I lived in the different times! It took hours but I managed to staple everything and make a few more sanwhiches. I love chesse. It's just amazing. I walked down the staris in a flash but in a quite kind of tone. I jumped at the spare pieces of rug becuase an amount of boys were hurrled at the floor. Their smell reaching me and sending a sickness to my stomach. Its hard to live a house filled with boys. Even in America. Scrunching my nose up in disust I managed to make my way to the door rushing or more like sprinting to get away from that awful smell of mud and beer.

I did run. I decided to run as far away as possible. Maybe that was not the best descision in the world or in my life but it would have to do. I can't stay in that house and I can feel the tension of having me in that house strangle me! I don't want to be strangled!  Or die for that matter! I just want America. I felt my heart fill longing to go back to America. I stared at the pale cold moon knowing that my family would be watching that same moon too. Or maybe they'd be watching the dark side of the moon but there would be nothing dark about it. Running. Still running. With my lungs burning and my heart pounding. The sweet smell of Paris filling my nose. Filling my entire being. I didn't belong here. I belonged at home. Home. Paris was in every way beautiful and the people were warm and kind but they weren't American. The faint smell of new person caught me off guard though. But this new person smelled familiar. Was he a familiar stranger? Was he a rapist? Do they have rapist in Paris? That would totally make me loathe Paris.

Rapist are mean evil people who like pole dancers! I hate them all. Well no I can't hate. I never think that I will be ever able to hate. Yes a double negative sue me! Or at least I think it is. I should write a book of language arts. Anywho back to the stranger at heand and maybe a rapist in Paris, you know I really do think that a rapist in Paris would ruin the whole idea of me living here for a while at least. Until I graduate and leave this place. Journalism school! Oh how I wish you would starts. These days of summer nights haunt me to long for you. To long to be away from this new found "home" In least spoken words. I shold become a poet. But I don't have a goattee or a mustcahe so I'm basically screwed. In my views anyway. "Do I intrude on important thoughts?" That think voice full of smooth-ness and cool accent. In human english, French accent.  He spoke English ranther well though. I turned my head to face the man from the airport. I felt my face pale. So there are rapist in Paris. And to make matters worse this one's a stalker rapist. I mean I don't believe in coincedenes  so this is pretty weird for me. I'm not so sure on his behalf though.

Humans scare me. Now! Now! Don't go  getting the idea that I'm a paranormal thing-creature. I am 100% human tha last time I checked. Which was a while ago. The doctor said that I was a human in all ways possible. A little too much human were his words. But he was a creepy doctor. A stalker too I found him watching me in the oddest of places. In my car, gorcery store, and in my bed. No, I am not a whore he was in my bed! I pushed all these thoughts to the side and focused on said rapist-stalker-airport person. "Not at all. Are you the man from the airport?" I watched as the moonlight hit his face and I just then noticed that my surroundings were isolated in all ways possible. Not a good sign. "Yes. Might I ask what keeps your mind so busy? Are you meant to be meeting someone?" He was very proper for a stalker-rapist. Very creepy indeed. I should leave. Or run. I had managed to make my way to a fountain. Surrounded by dim ligting. I needed to find a way to get back home. "Um....No I'm not meeting anyone. It's rather late for that. I just needed to step outside for some fresh air. My mind is filled with rubbish of sorts and thoughts."