I just wanna say I'm so sorry for being uncreative for a bit and even when you give me request I can never seem to write them and it honestly seems like I'm declining when it comes to good writing I even go back and read my old chapters to get inspiration.
Not only that, but I believe either genuinely have ADHD and possibly depression because I get so sad and angry and unmotivated to even get out of bed, even if it's to go to the bathroom, and my cousin's having a baby this month, so I'm also excited and overwhelmed by that because there hasn't been a baby in the family for while so....yeah. genuine sorry.
It was no doubt you were the oddball in school, being the goth girl. Platform boots, crazy hair, thick eyeshadow and eyeliner so thick it has it's own gravitational pull. It was your swag, and as much bashing as one could get for such a style, you had minimal fucks to give. Very minimal.
The majority of people that made fun of you for this style consisted of America loving country boys who loved nothing more than guns, pick up trucks and god.
Your classmate, Bo Sinclair, was one of them. Or so you thought. He just seemed like one of them, and you liked to steer clear of any guy you felt would remotely act that way.
You were walking down the semi-occupied halls of your high school with a stack of books pressed against your chest.
Your gaze followed the plethora people eyeing you down, and you did as you would any other day,you ignored then. However, today was not any other day.
Your platform boots went out, and you feel straight to the ground, dropping your books all over the floor. The eyes only became more judging as they looked at you.
"Shit." You cursed audibly, going to pick up your stuff. How fucking embarrassing.
"You've got quite the mouth on you." Said the southern voice of a young man. You looked up to see Bo, wearing a grey tank top that showed off his pudgy tummy, and some regular boot cut jeans with a brown belt he probably got from Walmart, all topped off with some hard toe brows boots that one would wear to go hunting.
You ignored him, going on to pick up your stuff. "Here, let me help ya." He dips down to grab a book. "Wow.." he picks up a special book.
"A hocus pocus notebook? That's pretty cool. Is that were you write your spells?" He makes a sly joke. You don't laugh. "Sorry, I'm not very good with jokes. Not really my forte." He picks up another book, adding it to your stack.
"No, no. It's alright. But very little in life makes my laugh nowadays." You tell him. "Oh, yeah? Well, I think I could fix that." You eye him down. "Oh, really?" You say sarcastically.
"Yeah, really. Maybe I can take you out sometime? Give you somethin to laugh about?" "Maybe you can." You stand up from the ground, books all stacked again.
"You like burgers?" "I'm a vegan." You answer bluntly, and he frowns in confusion, almost as if the word was foreign. "Really?" "Nah, I'm just kiddin'." You tease. "Oh! Oh, okay, that's good, cause I was thinking I could make you some. I make some damn good ones too."
"Sounds promising. Tomorrow night, maybe?"
"Eh, sure." He responds. And so the date is set.
YOU ARE READING
You wish this was you, huh? ( slasher headcanons & oneshots )
RomansaFor Lonely readers willing to marry, worship, and devote their existence to fictional serial killers who would mercilessly rip their lungs out with no second thought. ( I wish someone could go to therapy for me). Some parts of this book have been de...
