Better Off Alone✔

€hapter 4:

~Paris~

Everyone was snickering after I had read aloud my poem, and I felt like crying.

Distinguishing what everyone had said was what brought tears to my eyes.

Yet, they wander why I'm so self-conscious.

Before I knew it, Josh Falcon was being hoisted in the air by some guy, whose name I'd yet to find out.

"What is wrong with you, you're a pathetic moron who is too busy making her life miserable to live your own. Just because she actually did her work and outdid you by far, doesn't mean you have to make fun of her. You're jealous just admit it you asswhole!" Nameless screamed, throwing him across the room.

I gaped at him. He reminded me of...him,in so many ways.

Memories seemed to flow endlessly down my cheeks and nameless looked at me with angry remorse.

He walked over to me and I cowered at his touch.

His eyes seemed to soften and he looked around as if he had been lured back toward reality.

That's when I ran.

Coward, I know. But I didn't know how to react or feel. My mind was flickering, like fuses being blown, one by one.

That was the first time someone, someone I didn't know to be exact, had ever taken up for me.

In movies, or books, people are instantly amused and happy at something like this. They end up falling in love with that particular person, marrying him. Living a happily ever after. But that's not me.

I'm different. I don't like the attention being directed towards me by a force I can't control. I hate being laughed at, or the fact that some random dude had the nerve to do that. I can handle myself, and instead of being amused or in love, I was angry.

Despite it, I was glad? I was happy at the same time I was antagonized.

Confused maybe?

I sighed, sliding down amongst the cold brick.

I closed my eyes and breathed in the frosty air of the storm.

What has becometh of me? I remember once in a lifetime, long,long ago, I had been happy. I had been a cheeful little deva.

Dressed in shades of pink and purple, with long, curly blonde hair and blue eyes.

The natural princess, only one could dream of being.

Then mother abandoned us and father became remorse. Depressed he was, and it was my fault.

EVERYTHING was my fault, he would scream at me.

And I believed it.

The darkness had tried so many times to grab hold of me, and I would refuse. But it gets tiring and lonely at times. Then darkness became your only friend. So, I let it pluck me from earth's tender skin, and drag me into the horrid underworld.

I dyed my hair black and began to wear heavy make up, painting a cheap smile across my lips to cover up the pain.

Piercings slowly took over my face, and scars began to carve their way into my skin.

This was the new me. The cover up. The accidental. The fake.

But I'd rather be a pathetic loser, with darkness as my only true friend, than to be a popular prep with fake sluts as my surroundings.

The air was biting at my skin, my scars turning a dark purple and swelling out. My lip was quivering and I only hugged my knees, enjoying every ounce of pain that I so dearly deserved.

The last thing I remembered, before darkness consumed my vision, was a warm heartbeat against my ears and mint-like breath, so tender, amongst my face.