Where ☹ Muke

XIV ; no i don't cry about you.

1K IM SCREECHING DUDES I LITERALLY CANT EVEN RN.

« hemmings »

I woke up with a pounding headache and a massive urge to vomit, I raced out of bed luckily knowing where Morgans bathroom was and let myself spill my guts. She's never been there when I wake up, she knows I normally regret it in the morning so she goes to school early.

School with a hangover, probably one of the worst combinations I've ever experienced, like worse than toothpaste and orange juice.

After I finally felt somewhat stable enough to, I pulled myself off her bathroom floor and reached into her medicine cabinet pulling out the bottle of aspirin and sighing. I've really got to stop doing this, I need a different way to release my emotions.

But I don't want to do anything intense like self-harming or drugs, I don't want to experience addiction -- it's overpowering and I'm already weak now, I don't want to stumble too deep for my own good. So I guess this isn't that bad, though I feel like an utter asshole seeing as I use Morgan quite frequently.

"And," I dragged on looking at my reflection, "I'm going to school once again dressed the same."

Luckily I'd worn a sweatshirt and black skinny jeans so it wouldn't be too obvious that I hadn't changed clothes, but my hair was a different story. In other words it looked like complete shit and I was about to be late for school, so I decided I'd borrow a beanie from Morgans closet and hope it wouldn't be noticed by her or her friends.

I threw my shoes on and ran out the door only stopping in my tracks to take a second to lock her doors for her with the spare kept between a few loose bricks. It was the nicest thing I could do after using her, again.

Today's the assembly.

Nobody ever told us what the surprise assembly is about, just that it was important and they would like everybody to attend. So apparently it was urgent, but of corse as I looked through the hallways my eyes never landed on that damned red-head.

Why the hell can't this boy show up for one day, like I'm seriously regretting my decision to apologize and sorta want to beat the life out of him.

"Hemmings," I turned to see Alex a few feet away and stopped walking long enough to allow him to catch up with me, "I think I totally know what the pep session is about." He smirked leaning in closer so others wouldn't hear whatever he had to say. "So that whore, you know her right?" I cringed at his wording but nodded.

"I'm assuming you mean Taylor because she's done everybody?" I asked.

"Yeah her, anyway -- she spread aids completely through the school, like all the way to the freshmen, so I'm pretty sure it's a lecture over safe sex!"

"That's lovely, let's just get going." He nodded before running off to his locker, though I'm quiet sure he was off to find Jack and see how many licks it takes to make him cum -- the world may never know.

I silently laughed at my own joke which earned a bunch of odd faces, that making me only laugh harder as my laugh became a high-pitched giggle -- way to be badass.

Finally after about ten minutes and the warning bell I was calm and hurried to unlock my locker and throw my backpack carelessly in the metallic piece of shit. Everybody would be in the auxiliary gym, so I went there without hesitation.

It was loaded, everybody in the school was there and it was quiet terrifying to say the least. I scanned over the crowd as my eyes landed on a certain group of guys laughing atop the highest wrung of bleachers. I groaned at their choice of seating but continued to make my way up to where they sat, constantly apologizing to people that I accidentally hit in the face with my butt.

After a few minutes the lights dimmed slightly earning a few screams from annoying bitches before the lights up front flickered on where our principle stood in front of a large screening. "Not one of these again." I whined placing my head in my hands.

I hated these large presentations of stupid subjects, the last one we had was a dedication to a boy who won the spelling bee where we had to learn his entire life story. And let me tell you something . . . I remember nothing simply because I was out within ten minutes.

"Good morning students of Westville High," the principle called receiving a few "good mornings," or "go to hells." He continued to smile though it farther when somebody called out calling him a "fat bastard," which indeed made me feel like an asshole once again.

"We're gathered here today t-to," he stopped for a moment as he got choked up, holding up a finger to signal giving him a second to gather himself. Suddenly there was a loud range of murmurs of possible theories from the swarm of students.

What is it that's so important that he has to go in front of us and cry like a toddler, counts he do this over the intercom?