They Do Exist

They Do Exist (6)

Chapter Six:The Party Song— Emery.

The next day seemed to come to fast.The warmth haven of my sheets, and the lost mindlessness of sleep felt like peace between the cold air in my room and the torment of emotions rolling around inside my head.But like a zombie, as if on clockwork I got up and began getting ready for the day.I always got ready the same way.It did occur to me that there may be a faster way to get ready and thus giving me a few more minutes of sleep, but whatever the path I was too lazy to follow.I liked familiarity.I was a worrywart, and when things fell out of place even inanimate objects, it made me mad; it made me feel more hopeless.My constant rollercoaster of a life was to blame though, I couldn’t control anything about it and therefore intimate objects served as metaphors of the life I wanted.Things I could control, where I knew its place.Old things.Held with memories.

I pulled on a band t-shirt and some black skinny jeans with my converses as my faithful old shoes.I didn’t dress to impress in any case.I didn’t know the word sexy, or how to make myself look that way.My hair didn’t straighten right, and sometimes it didn’t even curl right if I slept on it wrong.I dealt with annoying acne that would vanish for a few weeks them appear like an ambush on my face.I wasn’t a Bella Swan, with pointless problems and a perfect face that any creepy vampire could love, no.I wasn’t a teen harlequin that complains about being plain and boring but ends up having countless boys fall for her.I could never fathom attracting any other boy than Brandon.Heck, he was my first boyfriend.

I was more just myself.Keeping to myself, finding confidence within myself, depending mostly on myself.Simply because I grew up knowing no one I could count on.No one that promised to love me, well except for Grandma.But I didn’t really get to see her a lot until I turned sixteen and could drive to her place on my own free will without mom taking me.I had faults.I complained a lot, I was never really chirpy or happy.My smile sometimes creeps people out because my lips aren’t use to performing the action.I have clammy hands, and a bad habit of biting my nails.I don’t have long eyelashes; I don’t have perfect skin or a perfect face, though they sometimes look more attractive when I cover the skin with foundation and slap eyeliner on, mascara, etc.I sighed.All these things running through my head.

And surprisingly, on countless occasions I have wondered to myself if any other girl goes through the same problems as me.If she too second-guesses herself and her life, if she notices the simple yet annoying and unattractive things about her.Because I do; I always have.I think too much, I over analyze things, and I shut people out.That’s who I am.

What boy would want to deal with that?What group of friends would want to deal with that?

My heart sunk at the thought.I tried to ignore it, trying to tell myself I’m tougher than the shallow girls who want to get everything they ask for, but I too sometimes feel empty and lonely as if I am nothing to this world, just another being that takes up air and space.

Driving to school, I opted to distract myself again by blasting sad rock so loudly that it blocked out any capable thoughts.

Wendy didn’t greet me like she sometimes does today.Neither did Brandon so I walked through the halls, almost detached from the rest of the teenagers.

“You excited for this party?”Cooper asked me, coming up beside my locker.