I jolt awake sitting up quickly wiping sweat away from my forehead and cheeks, looking over the clock I see it's 5:30am. My heart was beating hard in my chest and my breathing was heavy and short, I tried to slow my breathing to calm myself down.
This was going fine, and then I saw it was 5-fucking-thirty am.
Fuck that, this is way to early, fuck my nightmares. Fuck the sun, it can go back down.
I get nightmares pretty often, they're not really about anything in particular, but they're always there. They're not even really about anything specific, just whatever I'm scared of or thinking of at the time.
With a large sigh I roll out of bed and head to the shower, if I'm already awake I might as well do shit I guess.
I shower taking my sweet fucking time, I'm actually pretty sure that the sun wasn't even up yet so I feel no need to rush.
It was when the water turned from hot to cold I ran out the shower almost slipping over on the tiled floor, well I guess we don't have any hot water left. I also don't have any dignity left either.
I turned off the evil water and got ready for school, cleaning my teeth and taking a little extra care in picking out my clothes.
Usually I wouldn't mind too much about what other people's opinions were on me or my appearance, but I have English with Mr Weekes today so I'd like to try and put in a bit of effort.
Is it sad that I'm putting in effort for my English teacher? Probably.
Do I care? No.
I spent a good amount of time in front of the mirror in my bathroom messing with my hair, I kept walking out thinking I was happy with it, and then going back to re do it yet again.
After a long while of messing with my hair I ended up giving up, sighing and heading out the house after a while of lounging to kill time.
I pulled my jacket tighter on to my shoulders, it was definitely getting colder as the year ticked by and I hate being cold.
The coldest part of me at the moment is my heart, and I wanna keep it that way.
"Do you have cookies?" Billie asked as I approached him, he was in his usual position sitting on the wall outside his house hands shoved deep in his jacket pockets.
"I'm not a fucking food dispenser, Billie" I said rolling my eyes with a small smile, he stood up from the wall and began walking by my side.
"No but you sure are a shit dispenser" he mumbled acting as if genuinely annoyed, I knew he wasn't from the sides of his lips curling up.
"Gee thanks" I say sarcastically, Billies annoyed act dropped and turned in to a smile.
"You know I love you" he said high pitched pulling me into his side, I laughed and hugged his waist. "No homo though" he added as we pulled away.
"Puh-lease Armstrong, you are so homo" I say grinning, he shoved me lightly in the side grinning back.
"Yeah, but not for you. I have standards" he said smirking, his signature look of mischief more than noticeable in his eyes. I just scoff loudly, choosing it best to ignore him. Eventually I get bored so we start talking again. Not about anything interesting, but the conversation is still fun.
We walked in to the school and I visibly relaxed, thank the lord for central heating.
Gerard was sat cross legged on the floor leaning against the lockers on his phone, a few people were giving him weird looks but most people were pretty used to us by now. Ignorance is bliss when it comes to knowing of us, I guess.
I threw myself down next to him leaning my head against his shoulder looking at what he was doing, he was playing a shitty mobile game that I'm pretty sure I've got too. I can't really remember, I like to download things when I'm drunk, play them once and then just not bother to delete them.
Billie moved from his standing position and joined the fun, sitting on my other side pulling his legs up to his chest making a little ball-Billie. We sat like this until the bell went and we headed to our first classes, we all had something different and I had never bothered to learn either of their timetables so I wasn't sure what they had, but I also didn't care at all.
English isn't until my last lesson again so I end up laying with my head down on the desk in all my other classes, I'm pretty sure I fell asleep a few times by accident but I don't really care about any of my other classes.
Eventually, after what felt like five years of waiting, that is, it was my last period.
"Billie, I'm tired. My legs are gonna give out, I can feel them collapsing into nothingness beneath me" Gerard whined loud and high pitch as we walked to English, I was walking noticeably faster to this class then I was to my others.
I wonder why.
With a sigh Billie held out his arms which Gerard leaped in to with a grin, Billie carried him bridal style down the hall without even questioning it, just going along with it.
"Haha, gay!" Some kid in a year below us yelled, looking quite proud of himself for his great 'insult'.
"Yeah, no shit, cum dumpster!" Gerard yelled back making the kid shut up with a gobsmacked expression, a smirk appeared on Billies face.
Gerard hopped out of Billies arms and walked in to English normally as if Billie haven't just been his own personal taxi, Billie just shrugged being completely used to Gerard using him as a mode of transport.
Billie and Gerard walked in in front of me to go to their chairs and I walked quickly to the back, keeping my head down. Only once I was sat at my seat I looked up to see Mr Weekes looking back at me, he seemed to be staring at me as when I looked up at him too he quickly turned to the computer blushing. He was even cuter when he blushed.
As he typed a few strands of his hair fell into his eyeliner and he ran a hand through his hair pulling it a bit before standing up beginning to speak to the class, who have all arrived now.
"Okay class, so we're doing poetry. Boring, right? Wrong. Poetry is actually one of the best forms of self expression there is, because there are no rules. You can write about anything you think about, absolutely anything. It's just about the expression and the way you put across the words. The point of some poetry is to get other people to see things the way in which the writer interprets them, but the point of other poetry is to make people think themselves. It really doesn't matter what the subject matter is. So, I want you all to write a poem, you can write it about anything, but don't copy anything else. Really, it's all about being original" Mr Weekes explained pacing slowly up and down the front of class fixing his tie every so often as he spoke.
The skin tight jeans.
I can't deal with the damn skin tight jeans.
Mr Weekes had put emphasis on really being original, so that's exactly what I'm not gonna do. Glancing over my shoulder I see stacks of Romeo and Juliet play scripts, I grabbed one easily because they were easy to reach.
I began copying down the first few pages of the play as I wasn't going to do what Mr Weekes told me to, and may I point out how fucking dumb it seems? They talk stupid and the idea of everything that happens in the play is so far fetched, but none the less it's becoming my English work for the day.
I didn't even choose to copy down a poem, it's a fucking play script for gods sake.
Occasionally I looked up at Mr Weekes, I could probably write a poem about him, the way his chocolate coloured hair falls into his sky blue eyes, but that includes effort and at the moment Romeo and Juliet is giving me all the inspiration I need. By inspiration I one hundred percent mean copying material.
"Okay class, very well done" Mr Weekes said smiling pushing himself off of his seat "pass your papers to the front please, you can now watch the reading of the poem 'do not stand at my grave and cry'. It's not the most upbeat reading, but that's not my problem, it's an interesting poem to interpret"
I chuckle at his phrasing and pulled my phone out onto the desk, I began playing a shitty mobile game as the poem reading began to play, in pretty sure one of the girls cried at it or something. Also I was right earlier, I do have the same shitty phone games as Gerard. Knowing him he probably downloaded it on here himself because I sure as fuck don't remember doing it.
I ignored the poem, I'm not in the mood for interpreting anything. I'm very good at ignoring things I don't wanna pay attention to so I focused completely on my game instead.
Well, not completely. I was looking at Mr Weekes occasionally too. He was gorgeous as usual, flicking through the stack of paper with a cute look of concentration on his features. His eyebrows scrunched together slightly when he concentrated and it was adorable, his nose occasionally scrunched up too, probably when he was struggling to read a students handwriting or something.
I jumped in my seat when the bell rang loudly signalling the end of class, it caught me very off guard. Mr Weekes turned off the poem reading and everyone began to walk out of his class room to go home. As they left he sent them kilowatt smiles, I honestly don't understand how he doesn't have everyone in here launching themselves on to him.
I grabbed my bag and went to walk out, just as I was walking out I got stopped by Mr Weekes voice.
"Mr Urie, where do you think you're going?"
And the fun begins.