She Doesn't Care . (Being Edited)

Revolt For The Gone . ; Chapter Fifteen .

Dedicated to the girl that made the banner over there . --->

ShowEmWhatYourWorth

Thank you. <3

Go check out her work .

I feel like shit . But I guess I deserve that .

Oh well .

So as of right now , I have like , zero plans for where this story is going . I have a few ideas , but absolutely nothing solid .

If you have anything you want to see in this book , comment , post on my profile , or pm me . (;

This chapter may or may not suck balls . LOL .

I'll probably re-do it when I finish the story .

Opinion = more than fucking appreciated .

Especially on this chapter . hahah .

I just wanted to start shit .

I just wanted to riot .

I just wanted to fucking live .

My life was barely getting started before I felt like I wasn’t living at all .

That’s so wrong .

So I did .

I lived .

I retaliated .

I revolted .

Against the school I never wanted to go to , against the people in the town I didn’t belong  , against the family that didn’t even like me .

I’d skip school and go into the nearest city by bus .

 I’d party during the middle of the day .

Walk around with a bottle of whatever alcohol I could ‘ hey mister ‘ .

I’d pass out drunk , at twelve in the afternoon on a bench in the middle of the park .

I’d go clubbing into the early hours , hooking up with random men .

I breathed in the fresh air , and exhaled it with clouds of smoke .

It was nice .

But I couldn’t skip school every day , no .

So I went to school and didn’t do shit .

I’d sit there and stare outside , ignoring all the weird looks from everyone else .

And the teachers eventually learned giving me papers and telling me to do work didn’t lead anywhere but me flipping out and leaving the school .

They didn’t suspend me , because they knew it was what I wanted .

So I spent a great percentage of the short time I was in South Carolina in the In House Suspension Room .

AKA , the room with no windows . No color . No anything but desks and a small blackboard .

Can you say fucking boring ? I can .

But in whole , it wasn’t that bad .

I became a lot of things in that small room .

I’d carve pictures into the desks .

 I was an aspiring artist .

I’d jam out to an i-pod , dancing around in my seat .

 I was a groupie for a rock band .

I’d stare blankly at the desk , not seeing anything at all .

 I was a druggie with no brain cells left .

Anything I wanted to be , I could be .

And I was it all .

That small room , is probably the reason I was so fucked up , mentally .

I’d talk to myself , so I wasn’t alone .

I’d become things I knew I wasn’t , so I could be anyone else .

I’d see things , that I knew were never there .

Fuck . I went psycho in that small room .

And I didn’t talk to anyone , so no one ever noticed .

By the time I got out of school , and with Ryan , who happened to be the only person I could and would talk to , I was fine .

I acted fine .

Like any normal person would .

But it was all a joke .

I wasn’t normal .

I wasn’t fine .

I was fucking crazy , and I knew it .