I Miss You (kellic)

Besitos

I rested my head against the cool glass, waiting for "the band" to crowd into my shitty car with their various amps and cases. Something was off though. I just felt, indifferent. I felt indifferent about Kellin; like he didn't even like me. I don't know. I mean, I know that he wanted to spend time with me and everything, and I know that he can't act like I would prefer him to at school, but still. Maybe I just needed more time alone with him. Or maybe I needed to stop waiting for him to do something and just go for it myself. Maybe I needed to throw the first punch.

I let out a long and much to my surprise, labored sigh, staring out at the school. God, I really hated this place. Besides my own mind, this was the other main root of all of my problems. Everything seemed to start and finish here; and I hated that I'd made a metaphor out of it. It wasn't fucking art, it was hell, and not the good kind. That sounds a little odd, even coming from me, but I do believe there is a good kind of hell. It's a state of mind, like at the point of accepting insanity. Or maybe it's just the realization of evil. Some kind of fucked up epiphany that's leads to something a little darker. And then your mind searches for unanswered questions. And then bam! You're suicidal. At least, that's how it always ends for me.

Except I've given up on trying to kill myself for now. I have a plan. It still stands ascendant over everything else. Even if I do happen to find love.

"Open the door hijo de puta!" Tony yells swinging his guitar case in the air. (Motherfucker) He better pray to fucking god that his case doesn't swing open and his guitar comes flying out. He's got an ESP Viper, and that shit is expensive.

I roll my eyes at his lack of maturity and unlock the car. He shoves his case through the door and to the back. Jesus fucking christ be careful!

He laughs, "Dude, have you ever even smoked?"

Here we go again..

I shook my head and turned back around to face the front. Tony was nice to me, which I liked of coarse, but other than that, I couldn't stand him. He was just so stoned all the time I don't feel like I know the real him. As vacuous as that sounds.

He scoffs, "Bro, I gotta get you on some."

He taps me on the shoulder, "Here."

I glance back at him and he's holding a huge what looks to be cigar. I raise an eyebrow, "What is that?"

He chuckles, "Dude, it's a fucking blunt man. Be cool."

He drops it into my hands, well, more like throws, and waits for me. I have no idea what to do! Nor do I want to. I don't like the idea of drugs. I'm already fucked up sober, I don't need things to enhance my sociopathic thoughts.

I pick the blunt up with my fingertips and place it back in Tony's lap, "Maybe later."

"Okay man, more for me," he flashes me a toothy grin before placing the blunt in between his lips, lighting it.

Tony had left the door open, which, for some odd reason, really pissed me off. I was too lazy to get up and close it, so I just forced myself to stay calm on the outside. As what I usually do, just today it seemed a bit harder to control my emotions. Teachers had even noticed this time. Mr. Grant asked about my home life. No one every does that. No one should ever care about me. That's not how my life works. I wake up, and I feel like shit, I go to school, people treat me like shit, then I go home and treat myself like shit. Just one big shit show, that again, I usually create. However, things out of my control, such as my asshole Papa, give them unobliged reasons to make fun of me. I just don't understand. They never care when something positive happens for me. Wait. Nothing positive ever happens for me. My life is full of so much dark that it's almost blinded me from what's really going on. What am I even saying? Stop being stupid, you fuck up. You don't even deserve happiness. I don't even deserve to be alive.