*-edited version-*
Ethan Oakley - 15, 5'5", way under weight probably.. 103 lbs?, Cancer (zodiac), Pitch black hair with a pink fringe/pink tips in front, light blue eyes (almost icy like u feel) with obvious insomnia, highly anti-social, anxiety disorder, extremely sensitive, has never dated someone, basically the "typical" emo kid that hates himself. Except he actually appreciates the music yo
Austin Carlile - 16, 6'4", idk average weight? very muscular though <3, Libra (zodiac), dark brown/black hair that is styled upwards, brown/green eyes with heavy signs of insomnia, known to beat up people, covered in tattoos (illegally? lmao), secret band dork, intimidating??
~harlem
--
"Waking up isn't easy when you're afraid of the world. Nothing seems safe anymore, Frank. It's all just a dream world I live in. It's all a lie.." I spoke into my microphone softly and gripped it tightly as I sighed loudly into it
"I'll catch you later Frankie.. Stay safe please" I muttered before turning off the microphone. Glancing at the time on my computer (6:00) I quickly sent the voice message to my long time friend Frank who recently moved away from our home town. We had so many great memories in this washed up town but things weren't the same without him. I missed him dearly and just thinking about him made my heart ache. But before I could let the feels get to me I shut off my computer and got up from my computer chair. Time to get ready I suppose.
Brushing the snarls out of my messy hair, I focused on myself in my mirror. Pale as snow, skinny as a 9 year old girl, rib cage showing, hip bones sticking out, shaky breathing of anxiousness and fear clouding my tired eyes. A walking skeleton. A walking tree waiting to collapse.
Give me therapy, I'm a walking travesty.. but I'm smiling at everything. Therapy.. you were never a friend to me. So you can all your misery.
What a sad little song that relates to me so well.
Once my hair was situated, more like under control, I slipped in an old set of canine bites piercings. You're wondering, really Ethan? Canine bites? Yes really, canine bites -__- What are canine bites exactly? Angels bites and snake bites actually just at the same time. I'm the only one I know who has canine bites so I must admit, I'm damn cool.
Anyway the canine bites were red today to go along with my blood red skinny jeans, Mitch Lucker memorial shirt and dirty high top converses. Typical emo kid, am I right? At least I look decent enough for school. I dress better than most sluts at my old school. Then I remembered..
"Today is my.. first... day.." I whispered slowly. The reality of being alone with no fucking friends hit me like a ton of bricks. Hit me so hard I physically fell to the ground and clutched my beating chest. Can I handle this? Could I handle another new school? Without Frank?!?
"I... I will survive...." I choked out through shaky breaths and suddenly tears sprung from my eyes. What the heck? Why am I crying?
I slowly stood up and looked at myself in my mirror. The many band pictures I've cut out of magazines were scattered around the large mirror but seeing myself surrounded by the pretty faces made my head hurt. No, not my head. My soul? Maybe my heart.. Either way, seeing myself makes me feel like absolute shit. My girly figure, my loose shirt that shows how skinny I truely am, my obvious scene kid pants that usually help out with my self esteem, my sad tear-filled eyes, everything was wrong. This was wrong. I'm wrong..
--
After a quick 10 minute shower/cry feast, I changed my mind on my entire outfit. A Slipknot shirt that actually fit me nicely, light gray skinnies, red low top converses and black piercings helped my self esteem out a little. At least I'm not pushing it with the scene kid. I really do appreciate Slipknot. Considering I've seen them live and got this shirt from the concert, I consider them one of the greatest bands in rock history. But even if I wear a nice shirt like this one, no one will ever notice me. At my last school everyone always complimented Frank and I on our fashion sense but at this school.. I'm not so sure it'll be appreciated.
Grabbing my iPod next to my computer with headphones plugged in, my Ouija board backpack and my smaller black brush I went out of my room and into the living room down the hall. As always my mom was laying on the couch, passed out with bottle of rum in hand. Her long blonde hair drapes over her face as she softly snored away her stresses. I couldn't help but sigh sadly. Seeing her like this was only making my day worse. So I walked passed her and turned into the kitchen.
"I need some fucking music.." I growled to myself. Putting in both of my ear buds, I selected a personal favorite "pop punk" song of mine: My own worst enemy by Lit.
Can we forget about the things I said when I was drunk? I didn't mean to call you that. I can't remember what was said or what you threw at me. Please tell me, please tell me wh-y
My car is in the front yard, and I'm, sleeping with my clothes on. I came in through the window last night and you're, gone. Gone~
The first verse always reminds me of my mother and father when they used to argue throughout the night until the sun came up. I shook those painful memories away and turned my attention to my fridge.
"Hm... Let's make some tea this morning, shall we?" I asked myself quietly and pulled out a bottle of water that was half drunk out of. Luckily it was mine.. I think.
I grabbed a green tea bag from the small mint green box beside the toaster and sniffed it. Smells like heaven.. I poured out the remaining water into the sink and filled it with scolding hot water instead, earning a few burns on my fingers. Not that I minded. I like the feeling of being burned for some reason.. Calming almost. After I managed to squeeze in the tea bag into the bottle of water, I put my iPod on shuffle and Oh well, oh well by Mayday Parade came on. Oh did that song bring back memories with my friends from freshman year.. Staying out until dusk to get away from our parents, getting kicked out of Shopko for jumping on beds and spinning on chairs, debating on band shirts to buy for each other.. Good times. Funny, my mom would always say..
"You never really know you're in the good times until you look back on them. If you knew they were the good times, it would ruin it."
Maybe she was right.
But no time to dabble on the details, I had to get walking or i'd be late!
--
wow I'm actually okay with this editing y ayyy
YOU ARE READING
you're not alone, you're with me *~being edited~*
FanfictionAwkward, clearly emo boy Ethan has to learn to survive high school on his own. Approached by bullies, friendly strangers and teens with tattoos has never seemed so scary.
