This Love, This Hate.

Typical

I groaned, it was already six thirty in the morning? I had no idea I fell asleep... Which wasn't all that great, my nightmares scarring the peaceful sleep I had hoped to have. Maybe I.. I just needed to stop thinking so much about it. Then maybe I wouldn't have to wake up at three, two in the morning, sweating, wanting to run out of my room and check up on my mother. Not too see if she was okay, but to see what she was doing...

Which was silly, I knew my mother could never harm anyone, but my night terrors claimed differently. I recall, once or twice when I was younger thunderstorms horrified me to death, I would run to my mother's arms in the midst of night and she would rub my back comfortingly, whispering I would be okay. I believed her. I always did. But now things changed, I changed and I'm not her child anymore. I'm this disgusting creature with short, boy-like hair and a gaunt figure with odd brown eyes. I'm not me anymore. This didn't exactly bother me though, it was rather nice to embrace this "new" me and to feel more confident and have a choice in what to believe in. Not what I was raised to think. Homosexuals go to hell. God vomits in the face of homosexuals. This is all in your mind. There is a God. If you sin you die. Transgenders are going to hell as well even though there is nothing clearly stating that it. If you are happy most likely you're sinning.

Alright maybe that was too far.

I groaned, glaring at my alarm clock and semi-slamming my fingers on the snooze button. Finally it's constant ringing noises had ceased and although I was tempted to snooze in and show up to school around third period, I didn't want to risk upsetting my parents and giving my brother another reason to harass me. I swung my legs to the left, where the edge of my bed and the space between it and my closet met. I rubbed my eyes and slowly stood. Mondays were always the hardest in my opinion. I mean after two full days of procrastinating and sleep, it was hard to get back in the cycle of memorize, study, pay attention, stress, repeat for five days. Then Saturday, Sunday, relax.

The bus come around seven... So I should probably hurry. I walked over to the light switch and flipped it, wincing as the light gently seared my vision. The light feels foreign to me, I just want to crawl back into my cave made of blankets. Instead of doing that, I get dressed in a normal, emo, or any fanfiction character, neutral outfit; black jeans that cling to my legs, a fob sweatshirt, and a Batman slap on bracelet. I grab my backpack and my phone, and entered the bathroom down the hall.. Oh this bathroom. So many memories within this miniature, four walled compartment. My first cuts happens here, first kiss, and so much more. Instead of reminiscing those dark times, I brushed my teeth and glared at my face. Such an odd face. I checked the time again and rinsed, eager to escape the scrutinizing stare.
I run downstairs and don't bother to stop to bid my father a good morning, he looked up from his phone for a millisecond and our eyes met, then went back to sipping coffee and not bother to acknowledge my exsistence. I groaned as soon as I left. I shoved my hands into my pocket pants and wished to be a person who was accepted by their family, wished to be alone and to leave this world...
I hustled to the end of the street where typically the bus picked me up. I stood near the street sign, slightly shivering. It was a briskly morning and the sun hadn't even begun to rise. The hunk of metal painted yellow and not so carefully designed with black paint mobile came into sight, bounding from the opposite end of the street to where I was currently standing. I stood a bit firmer, then as the bus approached and opened for me, I walked up the steps and walked a few more seat aisles to my regular stop where typically, I stood alone. There was a girl sitting there, ear buds in, staring out the window; she seemed completely zoned out. Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck. Fuck! What do I do I can't- I'm no good at socialize or sitting next to new people or anything relating with communicating with another life form in any way!
The bus lady shot me a stare from the review mirror, her message was clear. Sit-the-fuck-down-already-you're-going-to-make-us-late-and-my-job-worse-than-it-already-is kind of glare you know?
So choosing to not make a scene and to save my fellow peers the effort of yelling at me to take a seat, I sat next to the girl. She slightly turned at me and scooted closer to the window, clutching her bag tighter. What a shame, I actually had thought she was really cute for a second with her wavy hair all over the place abd her overly tight jeans and thick figure. If she had actually behaved as a decent human being and not just, moved away from me as if I was some sort of disease or freak, I might have had a higher, more positive opinion of her. Mostly likely I was overreacting as I'm told I do often. Maybe I jumped to a conclusion, yet again. What if she's shy like me? Or anxious? I don't know her life or anything... So who am I to judge?
The rest of the bus ride, I left it to my mind to wander of possibilities on why the girl shifted away from me. Was I ugly? I chuckled, relinquishing in the thought, probably. Was she prejudice against females with excessively short hair? Didn't seem like the type... Maybe, I look really creepy, like a goth or a Satanist??? Most likely. Or thought I was a desperate lesbian going to hit on her. Well sorry to disappoint, love, I'm not... that exactly.
I glanced at her a bit, her cheeks were a soft red from the cold, her glasses pushed as close to her face as humanly possible, her honeyed brown eyes still focused on what was outside. I didn't even know the girls name but I found her... Captivating. Her wistful stare, her graceful poise, her style. She looked pretty cute the more I glanced.
Stop being a creep. This is why she scooted away from you, stupid.
I helpfully reminded myself. When the bus ride had ended and we finally arrived at Elmore High School, I hustled off the bus, more than ecstatic about getting rid of that suffocating atmosphere and the girl. She was cute, but too straight and preppy for my liking.
If I had to choose the perfect girlfriend... I'd have to say the girl who would rather spend the day with her nose in a novel, underneath mounds of blankets, and into a lot of bands. The typical fangirl and the typical, mainstream likes. Someone who could be trusted, relied on, someone I wouldn't have to think when I talk to, I could just say anything naturally and not have to overthink my words when speaking to her or rereading my text before I hit the send button.
I wanted a rose in this world of trash.
But that was asking for too much. My dream girl laid in the arms of the perfect man no doubt just like she had wanted. The girl I had wanted to be with... Never loved me. I was a simple, useful tool to her, wasn't I?
But I shouldn't play the victim role, I'm unworthy of that, too.