Toxic Observations

1.

I observe the blueish veins on my wrists. The blood flowing through them contains hemoglobins, a protein that has four iron atoms incorporated into it's structure. Iron is only naturally produced in one place, it can only be forged in the core of dying stars. I can't help but think that I am built from and kept alive by pieces of dying stardust, gazing at the stars as I do so. I don't really know why I like being awake at 4 am. Maybe, because the whole world is silent and peaceful. And at this very moment it seems like the whole world is asleep and I'm alone. So alone. But I seem to want more of it. The solitude. It creates a fire within me and all I want to do is run, swim, fly. And so therefore I do the only rational thing there is to do. I climb out of my window and walk towards the lake by the woods. I feel so cliché. Sneaking out at 4 am to go and swim in a lake . I'm so original. Never heard that one before. All that's missing now, is a brutal axe murderer and a pretty girl to swim with me. We'll have magical sex beneath the moon and stars. The axe murderer will then come and slash our faces and proceed by eating our liver and kidneys. Just to be clear, I'll be having sex with the girl not the axe murderer.

I remember Franco, my best friend telling me "Kat, maybe sometimes it's okay to be cliché. But then again it's more fun being an outcast!" I really had no idea what the fuck he was talking about since everyone likes him. I kinda hate him, but I kinda don't. To be honest it's hard not to hate him most of the time. He's good at everything. He beats me at almost everything. But he's so good natured about it. So modest. Ugh. There are only two things I seem to excel at; swimming and science. Funny right? The two things that will basically get me nowhere in life.

For some reason, people see me as the 'approachable' one. I'm one girls will come up to and ask whether my friend is single or not. I honestly don't understand why. Who would want a tanned, green eyed latino with midnight blue hair, when they could have a skinny, sarcastic, asian boy with Harry Potter glasses? Personally, I don't see it. Is it bad that I find myself funny? Because I'm hilarious. Just saying.

Arriving at the lake, I quickly remove my clothes, making a pile consisting of: a green t-shirt, grey boxers, grey joggings and a pair of navy blue socks. I remove my glasses and place them just next to the pile. I'm not gonna say I'm not proud of my body because that would be a lie. But, it's basically the only thing I've got going for me. All those years of swimming did eventually pay off. One day, I was all skin and bones and then BAH DA BOOM! Suddenly,  I wake up to washboard abs and toned muscles. I run across the dock and dive into the freezing cold lake. I let out a manly, high pitched yelp as soon as I hit the water. I urge my muscles to work and soon I fall into a steady rhythm. Five strokes, breath, Five strokes, breath. The freezing water cools my burning muscles. The adrenaline pumps through my veins as I push through each stroke. Every cell in my body is on fire, but I push my aching limbs to keep going. The thrilling emotion in my stomach gets bigger and deeper after every breath and ever kick. I'm laughing as exhaustion seeps into my body and I climb back onto the dock, gasping for breath. Smiling to myself as I struggle to put on my clothes, it's only now that I realise how much I need to sleep. Slowly, I return without looking back. 

The walk home seems longer than I remember. I can't help but see the appeal of this town when no one is awake. They're all sleeping peacefully in their beds. Their minds wondering to places they wouldn't dare to when awake. And the best part? Everyone is minding their own bloody business for once in their lives. During the day however, it's filled with racist, fascist, homophobic old people who don't seem to understand the concept of privacy. Don't get me wrong, old people are alright. Actually no, scratch that. They're awful and rude and patronising. That might just be because they hate me, but for some unknown reason they love Franco. Who doesn't? Sometimes I like to imagine what it would be like to be him. Just for a moment, I'd like to have a small glimpse of what the world is like from his perspective. But then, I bring myself back down to earth. I shouldn't be thinking about things like that. Pushing my bedroom window open, I slip onto the grey carpet and slide into bed. A wave of fatigue pulls me away from reality, and into a world of my own. 

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Right to chapter one is done! Please tell me what you think!! 

This chapter is dedicated to rayray_into_the_room because bae.