World of Misfits

Finding My Way

    Is there anything out there that's better than what I have right now? I mean let's be honest here, being in that stage of life where you feel that everyone looks through you; it's kind of tough right? You look at these people and think to yourself that you could be their best friend and that they will love you forever. The only problem standing in the way are my scars. They'd think I'm a monster. They'd think I'm psycho. But what if I am? After all, I spent half my summer in the mental hospital. Who am I kidding? Nobody would accept me for who I am; they'd only pretend to be my friend and then stab me in the back. They always do. What's to like about me in the first place? I'm just a total freak. My name is Morgan Wayne; I'm what you call a troubled teen. I'm just a walking ticking bomb, and everyone is waiting for me to explode. But not today, not at this very moment. I'm running. It started in woodshop; I pulled up my sleeves without thinking. Of course, the only people to call me out were Paisley and Lidya Turner. They made fun of me since the first grade. Now here we are; running around the blocks of New York City. I took a sharp turn down the steps of the subway. I was ahead of them; but not for long, since the both of them are track stars. I quickly found a place to hide; but it wouldn't last for long. The cement pillars are the best that I can think of, there's at least five or more. I just need to make sure I find one where they won't bother to look. To narrow it down, some of the lights on the east side of the station were out. I pressed my back against it as I heard Paisley's footsteps and Lidya's following close behind.

"Oh, Morgan. Come out, come out wherever you are." Lidya said deviously.

"Come on out you little attention whore!" Paisley yelled out impatiently. They called out my name for a while until their mom called telling them to come home. I'm glad she did because the subway was becoming less crowded. I slid down and took a breath of relief.

Then, I noticed someone else leaning against a pillar ten feet away from me. He had black hair with white tips swooped to the side, he wore a black jean jacket with a white undershirt, black jeans with a small silver chain, and brown worn out combat boots. He was looking directly at me with his piercing crystal blue eyes. I started to panic a little bit as I felt him observing me more closely.

"Don't worry,I'm not going to hurt you." He said catchig a glimpe of my eyes.

"What do you want?" I questioned, my voice nearly numb.

"My name is Laden, I noticed your scars." He said, moving a bit closer toward me.

"What about them?" I don't really feel comfortable talking about this with someone that I had just met.

"Well, you're hiding in a subway from two jerks; talking to some random guy who cuts himself. Just like you." He pulled up his sleeves and showed me. He had more cuts than I did, and he had a few new ones near his elbow. I stood up and he did the same.

"What's your point?" I slowly walked towards him; he was taller than I thought when I was about four feet away.

"I live in a place that is completely filled with people like us and they don't judge you. Emo, punk, scene and a lot more." I'll admit, I'm pretty convinced. He has that type of facial expression where you can tell when he's being serious. It would be pretty nice to be around people that understand me.

"Well, where is it exactly?" I asked, starting to get curious.

"I can't tell you. I can only show you." He said with a smirk. I, in some ways had a bad feeling about this. But, he was very sweet and it was very cool for him to admit that he was emo. It's very hard for me to tell people that; he said it like it was no problem.

"Show me." I said moving closer to him. It's been a while since I've felt comfort towards someone. He smiled and motioned toward the tunnel; and then eventually, he was inside of it.