The Runaway Juvenile

Not Normal

"Derrick!", Marshall yelled as he went searching throughout the house for me, but I was already out the door and on my 1998 Harley Davidson Classic. As I started it up and pulled out of the driveway, Marshall flung the door open and ran after me. "Lane Derrick Scott!" he yelled calling after me, but I was long gone.

I'm basically just a "bad" kid, who never goes a day in his life without some sort of trouble. I'm 17, and right now a "runaway juvenile". You see, my real parents were psycho serial killers, so when they got caught or whatever, I got sent to a foster home. Then after a year there, on my 8th birthday Marshall adopted me. Since then I've acted up in school, ran away, and got in fights and stuff. He thinks I just want attention, but I don't. I'd rather be a dude who's just bad, then a boy who belongs to the two adults who kill people for fun. If he understood what went on in my head, he'd understand.

I have thoughts.. bad thoughts. I see people who look as if maybe they could care about me, but then I remember no one cares. They all could care less about me. Those kind of people are fake, and by 'those people' I mean people like Marshall. People like Marshall are the type of people who make my blood boil. I'd never hurt anyone though.. I'd only hurt someone over someone I love.

Earlier at Stippies Park, my little sister (adopted sister, of course) and I were taking our evening walk, when some douche walked up and said, "Get out of my way, freak." Of course I refused and stated firmly, "How about you take your egotistic self home, and leave us 'freaks' alone." while getting up in his face. "I wasn't talking about Sierra.", he smirked.

He had blonde hair, the kind of blue eyes a girl would melt for, and was about 5'10.... but I was 6'0. Sierra, my sister, then stepped in. "Derrick, this is Shaun.. Shaun this is my brother, Derrick." she said with her soft innocent voice.

Sierra was so beautiful. She had long chestnut hair, and wore light natural looking makeup. Sierra was overall perfect, except for one flaw.. She always fell for the wrong guys, and by the way she's talking... this one one of those guys.

"Hi, Derrick." Shaun said, with a little attitude. "Sup." I said in my careless tone. He extended his fit arm for me to shake. I ignored it.. "He may be fit, but I can take this pretty boy on anytime." I whispered to Sierra. She laughed her amazing cute laugh. "Whats going on? What did he say?" Shaun asked in a puzzled, annoyed voice. "Nothing." I said flatly. He didn't look too amused.

"Let's go, babe." Shaun said grabbing Sierras waist pulling her hip bones close to his, leaning in for a kiss. I didn't like that, so I put my hand on Sierras shoulder and jerked her back to me. "Derrick, I'll be okay. I'll see you later, OK?" I just looked at her harshly. I felt bad for doing that because I could see the pain I had caused in her adorable green eyes. I hate seeing that look on Sierra.. but I was mad, so I didn't care. "Yeah, she'll be perfectly safe." Shaun said, staring at Sierra with a hungry look. They started walking away. I just stared in hatred. Shaun didn't deserve Sierra.. almost as much as Marshall didn't deserve me or Sierra.

Marshall never even wanted us. He adopted us for his own personal gain. I clean house and do all the house chores, so that way Marshall doesn't have to. He can stay out, and get drunk all night long without a care in the world because he knows I have it all under control.

Suddenly I hear a loud honk of a horn behind me, ripping me away from my thoughts. I kick up my kickstand and drive further and closer to 'The Cliff'. On my way there I pass my high school, and think about how much hatred I have towards that place.

Its not that I hate the people at school, but its the fact everyone looks at me like I'm some kind of 'hot bad boy'. Which I am, but still.. people shouldn't plaster me with labels because I am a normal teenage boy. I chuckle at the thought of that word.... 'normal'. HA. As if! Im far far from normal.