another social casualty [twenty one pilots adoption]

prologue

-victoria-

do you ever rethink a bad memory? I do it a lot. everyday actually. i try and stop it but i can't so it replays in my brain with no stop button, no pause, no skip.

that's kinda what PTSD for me is like. it's like i'm vivid dreaming and i can't get out of it.

for the past 4 years, i've been rethinking the same bad memories, the same bad people in my brain, the same evil things.

but nobody knows because it's too horrible to repeat, and cause i have lingering issues... nobody has adopted me. but i understand, people adopt children to start a happy family. they don't want a 'head start' on the problems. they don't want a kid with depression. or someone that's 'emo' 

which is such an old outdated term. i listen to today's music. five seconds of summer, billie eilish and bazzi. just because i like fall out boy, panic at the disco and twenty one pilots doesn't mean crap. they're popular bands, how does that make me emo?

maybe it's because of the scars on my arms? or the facts that i don't wear clothes with color? maybe it's because i have no friends? or the fact that i want to dye my hair crazy colors

maybe that's it.

then, i heard a knock on the door. I grunted, signally that they can come in. It was Mrs. Grasso, the owner of this group home.

she is in her late 30's, grasso means fat in italian so the name is fitting. I know that sounds mean, but she acknowledges it. she has a husband, but he's usually out working, i've seen him a handful of times during my current four year stay.

she's a nice lady, i don't have a mean thing to say about her, she tries and brings me into every interview but "normal" people don't want an non-normal kid. They don't want me because i'm different, i don't wanna get adopted because they're all the same.

carbon copies of perfect society yes-men and yes-women. following the rules and teaching their kids to be like everyone else and to fit in.

to quote Dr. Seuss, why fit in when you were born to stand out?

"did you hear me Victoria? I asked you a question?" i just look at her and shook my head. She rolled her eyes and came into my room, closing the door behind her.

"i asked, remember that band manager that came in a few months ago?" i thought about it and nodded and shed a tiny smile.

he was amazing to say the least, he was the manager for a band, he didn't say which, but that thought alone made my day, he hasn't called since, i asked Mrs. Grasso everyday if he called for 2 weeks straight, then i gave up.

because nothing ever goes my way.

"well he's coming back in a few hours, and he wants to adopt you" she said excitedly, she gave me a hug and i didn't have a reaction, mainly because i didn't know how to feel.

"start packing" and with that she left and i sat there.

'mistake' i thought to myself. 'he made a mistake choosing me'

i got up and packed what i had, it was a decent sized suitcase, but it was only filled halfway. I had my makeup that i bought on my own, plus an iPhone 7 that Mrs.Grasso got me for my birthday last year.

once again, i sat their.. just thinking 'why did he choose me?'

again, i'm not normal, but neither is he.. presumably. I stopped that train of thought and went on my phone and listened to nearly witches by panic... i still had more time to kill, so i decided to grab a snack. 

a simple apple, chewing it and hearing the crunch mix in with the beats. I was still listening to music, when someone pushed me to the ground.

I looked up, some mean girl that i didn't bother to remember the name of, because honestly who has time for that?

"heard you were getting adopted?" victoria did not have the time for this. what's the best thing to do on your last day? snitch

"mrs. grasso!? she pushed me" she called out, holding her arm as if it was extremely hurt. taking a few fake shaky breaths. 

"i-i need some ice or something" mrs grasso nodded. 

"you, my office, now" she demanded and she was sent. and victoria gave up the act. grasso knew the deal. this has been going on for a while now but thank goodness for her. 

she was always my favorite.

I stood up and looked at her, she sighed and gave me a hug.

"get cleaned up" i just walked to the bathroom... nothing was on my face but pimples. i didn't know whether to go downstairs and wait, or stay in my room..

if i wait downstairs, i look clingy and if i stay in my room, they'll think I'm some recluse..

recluse it is.

and with that the door to my room was shut.

----

rewrote cause i was bored. don't expect the whole thing to be rewritten. also hi!

;;

btw lowercase letters are my aesthetic so you're gonna deal w that a lot haha

but yea, vote, comment, put it in yo library

peace out