I believe this was day 3 of me sleeping under this horribly disgusting bridge. Phil and I hadn't worked on our book project other than in class and we were barely started on the essay. There was no way I was going to voluntarily go over to his house. He didn't want me near him, I had every intention to respect his wishes and not step foot around him unless forced to.
Walking out of school I laugh to myself at the thought of PJ dragging Phil to his photography class. I think PJ and I will become good mates, he's cute.
Not too long of a walk later I arrive at my final destination for the day, my makeshift home. I've grown to have a love, hate relationship with it. It's in a beautiful location but sleeping here isn't ideal. Lot's of wild flowers and plants grew freely in this part of the woods, it was surreal. But then again there are a ton of bugs.
I set my bag down on a rock, carefully leaning down to pluck the beautiful flowers. I gathered a decent amount and went to work. Having done this with my mum when I was younger I grew to know how to weave the flowers into a crown. The scheme of pinks, whites and purples went well together, and the array of flowers were perfect.
*Crack* my eyes snap up to look around me as I slowly slid myself underneath the bridge until my back rest uncomfortably against the damp stone.