When I Think of You

Chapter 1

*Warning* If you highly sensible to depression, heartbreak, suicide,suicidal thoughts, sexual themes, and/or anything that is not listed here, please take CAUTION.

One day... One day... Someone
will pay... One day... Someone will die... They need to pay... She needs to pay...

I wake up to the lazy Monday, having the want to go back to sleep. I pull my dark brown hair away from my face and the little bit hanging from my open mouth. Still trying to get my head out of the dream, I stretch out my arms sleepily in the air and yawned.

I sat up in bed, thinking about the Math test Tuesday and what I should write for the assignment in English. I love writing. I always had a passion for it. It makes me feel, good. I would write about what I felt towards anything worth writing about. Lately it's been emotions about people from school or just regular people I know. Most of what I write is depressing or just sad and murderous, but some people think it's good. I never show them to the mom. What good will these ever do? These won't help you at all. That's what my mom would say if I ever showed her. Like always..........
After thinking about school and putting on my glasses, I looked at the time. I felt it was time to get ready and finally get something to eat. I just realized I was starving.

"Hey May." I said to myself in the bathroom mirror. I start to brush my teeth and then look at myself in the mirror. I look at my mud eyes and brown, bark hair. "Average." I said to describe them. Then, I looked at my nails. "Meh." I said judging them. I looked at my figure. "Normal, but I'm fat compared to my friends... Fat... Meh." I decided not wear my contacts today. I feel more comfortable with my glasses. They also hide me from losers at school. Huh, I look better with glasses anyway.

After I got dressed and ate my fill, I start to get my school stuff together and wait for the bus all alone. In the meantime, I want to write. Perhaps a poem? I start writing, thinking mysterious and dark but pleasant things. Most people will find it weird, some will find it cool, and a very few will praise me for it. I don't care what they think though, it only relieves my stress. At first I Can't think of anything to write. I get on my phone and look up pictures to, inspire me. I look through, but none has really helped me. Then I found one that I'm dying to write about. It's perfect. I start writing, putting what's left of my heart and my soul in this, ( like all my other one's.) trying to make it the best it can be. Oh, wait. I forgot something. I need to listen to music while I do this. Not just any music, the classics. Classical music helps me think, but when I'm just bored and thinking about nothing, I listen to 70's - 90's rock. I go back to the poem, focused and ready.

I'm about half way through when the bus shows up. Awe, I wanted to finish it. I sighed and grabbed my things and off I went to the hell called "Ashford High School".