I'm a goth

I'm Goth

I woke up to the fighting of my parents. They pretend to be the perfect couple for the public, but as soon as they're behind closed doors all Hell breaks loose. To top it off they just brought me to this conformist town called South Park. The day just kept getting worse.

To block the sound out. I put headphones on and turned it up as loud as needed to do so. I then proceeded to bob my head in time with the music. Keeping my eyes towards the floor as I walked towards my dresser to change out of my black gothic pjs. They were lacy and tied in the front. It was absolutely devilish the way they fit my bodice.

I looked through my clothes and picked out a black, long, sleeved sweater. Along with a long flowing skirt that hid all of my legs, and almost dragged on the floor. I then moved on to jewelry. Putting in my black stud earrings, and looking for my black cross on a chain to put round my neck.

When I was clothed. I moved on to makeup. I usually kept the basics. Black lipstick, black eyeliner( not heavy eyeliner though. What do I look like an emo.), black eyeshadow, last but not least. A touch of white blush to make my cheek bones a bit more visible.

When I was quite satisfied with my look I moved onto my hair. It doesn't take much seeing as it is a pixie cut. So I more so just fixed my long fringe in the front. Deciding I should add a stripe of color to it later.

When everything seemed to be in order I grabbed my black messenger bag, and headed downstairs. Where my parents were still fighting. I shook my head, and left knowing they wouldn't care I had left at all.
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I decided I should go check out the school for places to hide during the day. I hate teachers, and usually ask for the work I missed after school. Which works for me anyway. Gives me something to make an excuse to avoid being social with the parents at home.

So I walked around campus silently, and spotted the loading bay.It seemed as desolate a place as any. So I decided to check it out for its possible potential. There was an awning, and a few steps to sit on within the area. It smelt of cigarettes, and coffee. It was the perfect mix. I decided this could be a second home.

The only obstacle being the kids dressed in black sitting there. I'm not anti social, but meeting new people isn't exactly easy for me. Luckily they hadn't seen me yet.

I pondered what to do. They seemed to be goth, but if they turned out to be emo that would be a pain in the ass. So at this point I have two options. Suck up my fear of new people, and possibly be excepted into this paradise. Or hightail it in the other direction, and try to find a new place that probably won't be as good as this makeshift.

I went with option number two, and casual made my way over to them. Keeping my eyes on the floor. In fear of being judged to harshly directly to my face.

The tall curly haired kid was the first to speak up. "Get lost you emo", he said bored. Which pissed me off. I hated being mistaken for an emo. "I'm not emo! I'm fucking goth you blind fuck!", I replied in anger. Though soon rethought that action. Seeing as I thought they could possibly be emo as well. I wasn't about to apologize though.

I gave them all a once over, and decided they could make a good crowd. Looking back at the curly haired kid I raised an eyebrow, and said," I have anger issues, and calling me emo sets me off. So if you could refrain from calling me a damn emo. That would be lovely." I pressed my lips together tightly. Waiting for a response.

Which was agonizingly painful without my morning coffee. One of the things I couldn't live without. The others being skinny puppy, and a cigarette. Which just all came together to keep my stress at bay. While also making me less of a bitch.

Unfortunately I hadn't found the coffee place in this town, and my mother hadn't bought me the cigarettes I asked for. So I was trying to keep calm just listening to music alone, but it's not guaranteed it'd keep me from killing people. So I was a bit cranky, and bitchy at the moment. Caffeine, and nicotine withdrawals can do that to someone.

Coming back to reality the curly haired kid seemed to show some interest in my words, and responded with a simple,"Whatever". I looked back at him, and nodded. "Can I sit" I asked getting tired of standing. He nodded for me to proceed, and I took my place amongst the four of them.

The curly haired kid turned to look at me, and said,"I'm Michael, that's Henrietta, Pete, and Firkle." I nodded and stated my name "Scarlet". I flipped my fringe out of my eyes to get a better look. At them. Henrietta was a bit chunky, but wore it well. Pete was thin, and had pock marks. Most likely from the fringe hanging in front of his face. Firkle was the youngest, had a fringe, and was staring at me intently. I nodded in approval. They were definitely some of the best non conformists I ever met.

I looked at Henrietta again, and watched her smoke. Wishing I had a cigarette, but not wanting to ask for one. While as if reading my mind Michael asked,"Do you smoke?" I nodded, and he gave me a cigarette. I gave him a small depressed looking smile, and put it to my lips.

Turning to my messenger bag I rummaged through it for a lighter, and was aggravated when I couldn't find my favorite lighter. Reluctantly I looked at Michael, and asked if he had a light. He nodded, and lit the cigarette he gave me. I gave him another weak smile, and took a drag from it.

"Thanks" I said to Michael. "No problem..." He replied.
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