zombie carrot juice

hiya this is my first story, i hope you like it :) ~

I would rather die than face them all again. Die horribly. In a messy, fleshy, bloody and gory kind of way. Its a total no-brainer.

I'm leaning my head against the cold glass of the bus window as we draw into the parking lot of the road-side cafe, ear buds in place. the music died a long time ago but this way maintain the illusion of being invisible. I'm perfecting my thousand yard stare out into the desolate Scottish countryside,and the weather is doing the whole pathetic fallacy thing. (as in its crappy and echoes my mood. just in case you nodded off during that particular English lit class. hey i don't judge.)

another couple of minutes and I'll be alone. my dear classmates will be going to lunch, and nothing and no one can force me to go with them.

this would be the school trip from hell, if it wasn't so stupidly freezing!!! cold and damp - the kind that seeps lead into your bones and slows your will to live. compared to the wilds of Scotland, even hell has its perks.