It's So Much More Than Just A Band.

Chapter 2: School.

My mom hands me a brown paper bag with my name on it and kisses me on the cheek, have a good day at school ok sweetie? Try to talk to some people. Sure mom, bye. I walk onto the bus and plop down at the back where the seat is ripped so I know no one will sit next to me. I look out the window and see it start to rain, the clouds cover the sun so it instantly looks like night. Trying to find a way to block out the stupidity that is coming out of the boys who are sitting in front of me, I decide to get my notebook from my bag. After scuffling through old papers and pencils I find the notebook, covered in band quotes and logos I flip to the very back page. The page reads, days clean: 1. The page is full of eraser marks and stained with tears, why don't you just throw it away and make a new one Lindsey? I would it's just there's one little message on it which is why I haven't thrown it away. Last year, my best friend, Josh, found the page and wrote "stay strong Lindsey!" with a little heart at the end. I'm not the kind of girl that people really care about you know, so that was the first time someone has actually tried to help me. I guess it sounds pretty stupid but that little message means the world to me. By the time I finish doodling some more quotes I feel a sudden stop. Welcome to hell. I walk off the school bus and run inside the school trying to avoid the rain as much as possible. I walk to my locker to see the usual, skank, freak, and emo written and taped to my locker. I rip them off and stuff them into my backpack to deal with later. Obviously my locker combination doesn't work again so I kick my locker to get it open and grab my books. Bullies don't really bother me, I couldn't care less about what they say it's just they don't understand. They don't know who I am and what I've gone through. I don't know, enough about my problems. School isn't really a problem with me, again I don't really have many friends, pretty much only one that I can actually trust but I would prefer to have more. People just hate the things they don't understand so when they see someone like me the ultimately think I'm just this drug addicted whore who is into weird satanic stuff but it's not true. I'm pretty normal I guess. No? Ok. Maybe I'm not "normal" in the sense that I sit in my room all day rolled up in a blanket obsessing over bands and watching YouTube. But that doesn't mean people should treat me differently. Right?