Angel

two - not partying at parties

  I was at school.

  But I wasn't.

  My mind was thinking about a story. A few images came into my head and a few storylines burned my brain. It was the only thing on my mind - not Pythagoras.

  I was thinking about a story.

  It was about a girl my age. She was gorgeous and had auburn hair. It would've been bouncy but she was really unhealthy. She was an alcoholic and her hair was straw-like.

  She was really thin - literally skeletal. I realised we both had the same eyes - oceanic blue.

  Her cheeks were slightly grey and hollowed. She looked dangerously unhealthy.

  Her eyes actually weren't like mine - they were dead inside. They didn't have any life.

  This was an interesting story.

  The girl was nothing more than a lost soul and shattered glass.

  Her soul was fragile.

  "Llyana Crosswell! If you think you can you can ignore my teachings, the  you should know everything inside out! Exactly what date did World War One take place?" My pompous teacher asked.

  I proceeded to imagine him with a cow head - which would be easy considering the horrendous shirt he was wearing.

  It actually had cow prints on it.

  "Well?" He demanded.

  And at that moment, I realised we were in History, not Maths.

************************************************

  "Leah," Maya's voice called out to me. Leah was short for Llyana. "You should have paid attention." She reprimanded me, raising a perfectly sculpted eyebrow really high.

  I knew she was secretly proud of me for not being a goody-two-shoes.

  I pursed my lips together, pretending to be procrasinating, "I didn't do anything," I muttered.

  "Don't lie," she said, softly hitting me, "I know what you did." She sing-song whispered.

  "What did I do?" I asked her with a mischevious grin on my face.

  "You weren't listening in class," she said.

  "You're not my mum." I stated.

  "That's not the point," she remarked, a smirk tainting her face, "the point is that your were, for once - even if it was minute - bad. It was just a tiny error but it's a sign from the Gods above - a fucking sign!"

  I flinched when she swore; bad language was called bad for a reason. I disliked swear words.

  I didn't say anything, though. She wouldn't stop.

  "A sign for what?" I asked, quite timid. Maya was, despite being sweet and loving, a wild child. She loved doing inappropriate things with inappropriate people in inappropriate places.

  "You're ready to come to parties with me!" She yelled in my ear. It was painful because she's notorious for being loud. She was horrifically loud. Especially when doing inappropriate things with inappropriate people in inappropriate places.

  "I'm not," I barked back. Those types of parties looked sinful in movies. They were just overall bad and I would never be going to one.

  Never.

*************************************************

  I always seem to contradict myself.

  It was really dim and dark and sensual. I hated everything in this place. The only light was a dim, red light that only made things more sensual.