Chapter 1- A Cold Winter

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Winter's P.O.V.

I moved the hair out of my face. It was amazing. My hair wasn't even long and I still got hair in my face. Annoyed, I sat up. "Mom, I'm going to school." My mom looked away from bottle of whiskey and nodded. "Alright, hon. Have a good day."

Lifting my old ratty backpack off the table, I walked outside. My brown hair was, as always, incredibly short. It used to be at my shoulders, but I got sick of it and just cut it down to a very short length. I guess I don't have the temper or patience to have long hair.

My plain white shirt was underneath my brown hoodie. It was nice, warm. It wasn't anything stylish or fancy, but I didn't really give a shit. My jeans were torn at the knees, but it wasn't a fashion statement. I lived in the slums. It just sort of happened over a period of time.

I was covered in bruises from previous fights. Due to my pale skin, you could see them pretty easily. Yeah, I got in fights. A lot. You can say my temper is probably a bit too short. I'm not doing well in school, especially Science. Fucking hate that class. I hated Geology, Chemistry, Biology, and anything having to do with it. I wouldn't need that shit later in life. Why learn it?

So, yeah, guess you could say I'm a violent, rude, druggy fuck up with small tits and a weed addiction. And I'm okay with that. In fact, I'm proud. I don't take people's shit. My mom is happy with how I turned out. Why shouldn't I be?

As I walked to school, I saw some pretty slut in her car. Beautiful blonde hair, green eyes, big boobs, nice figure. She was covered in expensive jewelry. I was tempted to try and mug her, but I thought it wasn't worth the trip to the detention center.

She laughed at me in her car. There was another girl with her in the car. "Look at that sad middle school boy. Doesn't he look lonely?" I looked up at them with a glare. "I've known you two since kindergarten. You know damn right I'm a chick and I'm seventeen." They just laughed at me.

I walked up to their car and grabbed the blonde girl by her hair. I yanked her straight out of the car and threw her to the street. "Look you are here in my neighborhood. Bitch we both know I will beat the shit out of you." Fuck being late for school. School could wait.

The girl stumbled up and I threw a punch straight into that pretty little face. I bruised her cheek. She looked shocked that I threw such a blow. I did it again, punching her straight in the mouth. One of her teeth were chipped. I smirked. I did this until her pretty little face was a lot less lovely. I left the beaten girl in the street and began to walking to school.

When I got there, the cops were there. Oh, fun. I was fucked. They were looking for me. That stupid girl's friend must have called the cops on me. I guess it's time for another month in the Detention Center. Maybe my usual guy was here. He helped me, talked to me, and we were used to each other.

However, once I saw the yellow tape, I knew it was something else. There was a boy laying dead inside of the taped-in area. There was a hatchet lodged in his head. It was old, dull. I stared at the body for a minute.

The look of horror on his face haunted me as I walked to class. He died looking terrified. What a crappy way to go, man. That must have sucked.

As I went from class to class, I was excited. After school, my weed guy would be selling me some. I needed more, I was a bit low. My day went normally. Besides that awful beginning, it was a decent day.

At the end, I showed up, bought my weed, and left. My bong was at home. I had to hurry home, though. You do not want to be stuck in my neighborhood when it started getting dark. You will get mugged and beaten. I ran, finally getting home and opening the door. The sun was barely set, but you have to be careful.

When I got home, I went to my room, found my bong, and went to my backyard to smoke it. My mom sat next to me, drinking her whiskey. She glanced at me, smiling. "Hey, Mom." She put her arm around me. I started to smoke. We sat there in my backyard with the dim porch light until it got dark. "Love you, Mom." I smiled. "Love you too."

Dedicated to the awesome writer of Scissors, a Rake love story. Trust me, it's really good. Highly suggested by me.

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