I wake up at about 6:00 o'clock in the morning, grunting out of bed to hurry up and go check to see if the shop people have brought my truck back during the night.
Sure enough, there's a big black, 5 inch lifted Longhorn Ram in the drive way. I smile, walk back upstairs, pick out my Andy Biersack tank, black spike shorts, and my black spiked boots then head to the bathroom to get ready.
As soon as I pull out of the drive way, it's already 7:57 AM. I don't really feel like seeing anyone this morning, nor talking to anyone, nor thinking of anyone, nor being in the presence of anyone, but oh whale we gottah do what we gottah do to get an education. So, I turn up the CD in my truck and sing along to my inspirations voice, hoping he will make all the thought go away like he always seems to do.
"THERE IS NO HOPE FOR USSSS
WE SPEAK IN TONGUEEE
BLACKER THAN THE SUNNNN."
I turn it up extra loud and scream with him as I pull into the schools parking lot to park beside Fraser's car.
"NO. DEATH CAN NOT TOUCHHHHHHH.
THE CROOKED YOUUUUNNNGGGGGGG."
My thoughts are forgotten and all I can think of is how grateful I am to have found BMTH. I know, it's probably weird that I'm so obsessed with them, but without them I'm not so sure that I would still even be here. I've always thought that when the time comes, the time in which I see absolutely no more hope in anything, I would do it. End all the pain, all the thoughts, all the disgusted glares towards my way, all of the rumors about me, just everything, but I like to think that I'm not alone, because I guess I'm not. There's been so many times where I have been inspired by them.
After turning off my truck, I get out, grab my bag, and head for the office to get a tardy slip.
As soon as I walk in the main entrance door I hear moans coming from the girls bathroom. I told you, it's a war zone when you get to school. I've got to avoid these little things, people having sex in the bathroom, because if I just walked in there, I'd have two options. Join them or make a deal with the dirty couple to never tell anyone and be stalked by them so that word doesn't get out they fucked in the bathroom. Trust me. I have been through it before. OF COURSE. I picked the second option and got stalked for two months until they were the ones to forget. Anywhore, back to my day.
I smile sweetly at Mrs. Petray, AKA Mrs. Gator because her wrinkles make it look like she is part alligator, when I walk through the reception office door.
"A little late, aren't we Miss Kysa?" She smiles back at me just as sweetly, making even more wrinkles show.
"Yes ma'am. I'm so sorry." Sighing to add more effect I say, "My mum had to leave out for work this morning at 7:30. I had to drive her all the way to DFW."
"Oh honey. Why are you here then? Get to class missy!"
I giggle a bit and say thank you before I run out of the reception office to my first period class.
It was a pretty miserable day. I mean nothing more happened after the whole sex in the bathroom thing, but it was miserable because I didn't talk to anyone the whole day. Sometimes I wish I could climb the social latter all the way to the top so I could go home and to tell mommy and daddy that I had such a wonderful day and look forward to seeing them at dinner in five minutes, but hey, not all dreams come true.
I was, however, lucky enough to see Fraser before he left out of the building. We decided to meet up once he got off work to go to the mall or do basically anything to get out of the house. Don't get me wrong, I love playing GTA 5 and trolling people on Omegle everyday after school, but I have to say it does get lame after a while.
As I started walking to my truck I started it with the key to get it warmed up. Yep. I got dat auto start bae.
"Hey! Wait up!" Someone yelled from behind me. They're probably just talking to someone else, so I kept on walking only to have my arm grabbed, turning me around, and having an oddly shaped like a human rock pressed against me. Okay. Not really a rock, but I have to admit I was impressed at those muscles.
"What is your problem? I've done nothing to you. I've only tried to be your friend of at least nice to you but you just come at me like Queen Bitch. You don't act that way to Fraser. Shit, you don;t act that way to anyone here. Even if they are mean as shit to you, you still treat them with respect. So, please enlighten me on why you don't seem to have any respect for me?"
"Okay. First, Jayke." I'm pretty sure I spit a whole bucket full of venom at him when I said his name. "Get your fucking hands off my before I rip your testicle out through your mouth."
With that he stepped back, slowly loosening his grip on my hand before I jerk it from him.
"Second, you have no goddamn business touching me. Third, you have no goddamn business talking to me like that. Fourth, I won't talking to you because one," I hold up my index finger in his face. "I don't like people. I'm anti-social for a reason. Two," I hold up another finger. "Maybe I don't want you in my and that, my effing sir. Is not for you to care about."
"Why? Why not give me a chance? I never did anything wrong to you. Hell, you don't even really know me yet. I want to be your frie-"
"Why?" I push off of my truck and stand closer to him, looking up into his eyes. "Because you think I need help? I have no friends because there's something wrong with me and you want to help me 'get better'?"
"No. I jus-"
"Because with me there is no getting better. I don't want your help. I don't need your help."
I feel him burning holes into my back with his eyes as I open the door to my truck and climb in. Right as I'm about to shut the door I hear him speak again.
"You can't keep hiding from your fears. You have to live your life and take risks and chances. You're a beautiful Wallflower, Alice, but a Wallflower never lasts all year long. Please. Just give me a chance. Yes, I do want to help you. I don't think you're anymore fucked up than anyone else. I just want to help you see all the good things there is in this life. Especially for someone like you. I want to help you... feel again."
I hold the door open a bit looking down to the floor board before speaking.
"Did you ever think that maybe I am fine on my own? I have my own issues to deal with. My own pain to handle. I'm fine by myself. It's not like I'm dying and need a hero so badly."
"But you are, aren't you? You are dying inside. You cry every night, don't you? I've noticed how puffy they seem to be every morning. Your eyes are the key hole to the soul, and from what I can see, you do need a hero."
Flashbacks begin to appear in my thoughts and before I know it, a tear slides down my cheek leaving an icy river behind while more tears fall from my eyes. Yet I quickly wipe them away like they mean nothing.
"You don't know me."
And he doesn't. He has no clue of what I've been through. He has no idea of how hard I've tried to forget everything only to have him bring all the memories back to the surface.
With that, I close the drivers side door, put the truck into D and head home.
