Chandler Riggs/ Carl Grimes Imagines

Lessons

I picked up the first shirt in my closet to find that it was my favorite band's t-shirt.

Sighing in relief, I slipped it over my head and pulled my hair into a high ponytail.

I threw on a pair of black leggings and high waisted denim shorts before yanking my brown combat boots on.

This was the second time I was going to be late for school and I didn't need a detention.

My parents were already all over my back because I skipped school three days in a row last week without their consent.

I couldn't care less about school because honestly, I didn't think that I would make it to my senior year.

Most people look at me and wonder why I am the way I am, and frankly, I don't have an answer for them.

I'm not dying, poor, unintelligent, nor do I have horrible parents.

Sometimes, I think the only reason that I'm so depressed is because I'm so confused on what the planet has to offer and the fact that I'm so upset and angry when I know that there are other people alive that have so much worse than I do.

I ran down the stairs and slipped out the door and down the path that my realtor father had paid men to lay last summer.

I rolled my eyes at the promise that he had made me then.

"I promise Bre. Me and you. Just us this summer. We can do anything!"

"Can we fix the path outside to match the stone out back?"

"Of course."

I frowned at the memory and sighed.

As I turned around the fence, I ran into someone who I fell top of.

"Oh my gosh, I'm so sorry," the boy said, trying with too much effort to get up without touching any part of me.

"It's fine," I said, crawling onto hands and knees to pick up all the scattered books.

I reached for the book that we were reading in English just as the boy did. Our hands met and I looked up to see beautiful blue eyes hidden behind glasses.

The boy flinched back and allowed me to take the book.

"Thanks," I said, standing and taking the load of books that he had picked up.

"No prob-b-lem," he stuttered.

I raised an eyebrow at him and smiled, "What's your name? I'm Breanna."

The boy pushed his glasses further onto his nose with his index finger and replied, "My name is Chandler."

I nodded and asked if he wanted to walk with me to school.

"Uh... yeah. Sure," he replied.

We turned and made it onto school grounds without anymore collisions.

"So, I don't mean to pester you," Chandler said, breaking the silence we had kept since leaving my house, "But why did you do that to your hair?"

I gave him a look of confusion. I hadn't done anything special to my hair today. In fact, all I did was run a brush through it before rushing out of the house.

"You know, all of the colors," he explained.

I chuckled a bit, "Oh, I liked the colors purple and turquoise together so I decided to have the colors patterned into my hair."

I loved my hair. Every so often, I would dye it a new color to get away from the average brown that my hair was naturally. I just loved how the color gave me a satisfaction that nothing else I did  could.