The Secret Rebel (Rough Draft)

Chapter 6

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After Spending the whole damn day buying and cooking food I sat down. Yep, I sat down, because why the fuck not. Where you may ask. Well, I'll tell you. Right now I'm sitting in the middle of the kitchen floor surrounded by food. I looked around, this is actually heaven on earth.
"Hey, get up fatass get up I got shit to do and you're in the way."
I tilted my chin forwards giving me a double chin, why the fuck must he interrupt me in my nice moments.
"What the fuck do you want Jake?" his hair looked, as usual, perfect, while I, on the other hand, looked like a floury mess.
"You need to clean this shit up." He pointed around the room in a bossy manner, in between the masses of cupcakes and cookies, there's masses of flour and all the different condiments I used to make said food.
"Give me a few damn minutes, I'm resting" I groaned as I rolled on my good side.
"No, get your lazy ass up and clean this shit up before I make you" He kicked my shoe and in protest, I groaned. Quickly I felt him grab my waist and pick me up.
"Put me the fuck down you asshole!" I yelled as I banged on his back, stoutly he put me down. Annoyance calmly radiating through the both us. A stare down is commencing and I'm not sure how I'm like this, I swear to God I'm about to not be the only one with a stab wound if this boy keeps staring at me.
"I want this shit cleaned up. Now" God he sounds like such a dad. With that, he walked his lazy ass away and I got out cloth and cleaner to 'clean this shit up'.
Wrr... wrrr ....wrrr wrrr
A weird whirring sound filled my ears, confused I looked up. Greys rolling a keg into the kitchen. He's not a very broad kid, physically that is, he's slender, having that hipster look going for him. Always wearing beanies, cardigans, and all the hipstery stuff. I still have no clue why he's such a little shit. I always thought hipsters were a peaceful breed of human, like what happened to him. Jakes the broad one out of the two, looking more or so like college frat boy. Often wearing oddly colorful short shorts and pastel polo shirts. Maybe it's not that he's a frat boy, maybe it's just that he's gay, maybe he dresses like that to express his true feelings. I laughed a little at the thought of Jake prancing around yelling about color schemes and how great this little bistro is on some crowded street.
clang .... Bumble...bumble...
    I looked up again, a malicious smile working its way on my face, Greys trying to pick the keg up.
"Do you honestly think, you're going to be able to lift that thing up, cause if so, you bat shit crazy," I said in my normal sassy tone as I watched him struggle to pick up the keg.
"Do you want to lift this fucking thing up?!" His face turning red, from trying to lift it up. I kind of feel bad for him, Ya know, just standing here, watching the poor bastard struggle to lift up the beer filled tin.
"I can't, stitches, remember that thing that just happened. Ya know, that thing that was called getting fucking stabbed!" I started calmly then yelling, god why is everyone so fucking demanding of me today. I groaned, then took in a deep breath of air.
"Jake! Get your ass in here!" I screamed at the top of my lungs. That should do the trick. I smirked in satisfaction as heard the slow stomping Jake walking down the stairs.
"What the hell do you want!" He walked into the kitchen, half of his face having shaving cream on it, the other, well, shaved.
"Can you pick that up for him?" I said lightly as I pointed to Grey. Jake looked at him and sighed.
"Can't you pick it up yourself?"
"No, it's heavy" Jake walked over and easily picked up the keg, not even breaking a sweat while doing so. I find it hilarious as he didn't even make a snide remark to Grey not being able to lift it up. While if it was I, on the other hand, I would've gotten called a weakling or something like that. It's not fair how Jake is so soft on Grey, while I get the shit end of the stick. I hate to say it, but I'm jealous of the little shit. I heaved a heavy sigh then walked out of the kitchen and outside on the patio. The pool glistened a shiny white as the sun beamed down on it. It's too fucking bright, to be honest, but I don't really care. Annoyed by the brightness of the sun,  but comforted by the warmth I squinted my eyes and sat down on one of the long chairs by the pool. I'm like a snake, always basking in the sun, taking in its warmth. but unlike the snake, i'm not a cold hearted bitch. I grimaced as let out a yawn, it's nice and quiet, the only sound that I can hear is the pool filtering itself. Slowly I was picked up and tossed into a warmth of sleep.
     I shivered as a cold breeze ran over my body. Who knew the cold existed out here, being hot as shit and all. I thought annoyed as I turned my body, annoyed, but at the same time too lazy to move. Letting out a rough huff, I somehow managed to sit myself up.
"God it's as cold as a witches tit in a brass bra" I shivered as ran my hands up and down my arms.
"It must be one of those cold fronts, little shit" I grumbled as I got up, noticing a change in the scenery. It's dark out, the porch light keeping me covered from the nights' oddly bright darkness. It's weird, the sky is dark in the center but light around. I've never noticed that, it's interesting, it's probably light pollution. It wasn't like that at home, so bright, it was truly dark. The woods that spanned for miles, always kept the light away from my daring eyes. As if to tell me that the world is nice perfect and calm. I think there's only one problem with that childish ideology. It's simply fucking not. The world is damned to the pits of hell, well at least humans that is.
"BOOM BA DA DOOM BA..."
"Holy shit!" I screamed as the sound of loud bass boomed through my chest, literally, I can feel the vibration so the bass in my chest. I think I'm going to die, holy shit. I breathed heavily, the bass weighing down on my chest like a suction cup, I didn't even know you could get bass like this in a house without it complaining. Horrified I turned around and stared at the house. The EDM music that's producing said bass is lightly shaking the house. The poor house. Oh my god, are they adding to the sinking of California? I cupped my face with palms. What if they become the reason California sinks? I'm too young and pretty to go to jail slowly I stood up, my body still stiff, due to the recent events, life had decided to throw at me. Nervous I opened the glass door and walked in, damn if I thought it was hard to breathe before. There's nobody here, yet. The rooms' all decked out, it looks pretty cool. The couches had been pushed against the wall. The shelves now holding different multicolored lights, the room more or so looked like a colorful kaleidoscope. With different shades of blue and green coming from one light, pinks and purples from another, then red, orange, and yellow from another. In the fireplace the boys had put a strobe light in, I feel like an epileptic with that thing going off. In slight awe of the room I looked around, these bastards even hired a damn DJ. No wonder why they're so popular, they buy their popularity. Stingy bastards, why the hell can they get away with this. Ugh, I feel like Candice. Bitterly I walked up stairs and into my room.
"Ugh, why the hell can they buy people and I can't?" I yelled, at the bullshit that's them thinking they actually have friends and not people who just use them for money and popularity.
    This is kind of depressing, realizing the fact that they're all just using each other for some sort of gain in life. Ugh, hate when I get like this, all pessimistic and shit. It's like I'm an alter half of usual sarcastic asshole self. I guess we all have our downfalls every now and then.
Lamely I sat down on the green couch, petting the rough but soft velvet fabric.
"You know what must suck, being a couch, no, a toilet. That's even worse. Like every day, you deal with other people's shit. Like how much does that suck ass?" I questioned aloud as I dwelled on the topic of toilets handling other people's shit. A thought popped into mind, doesn't pot make you happy and shit? Yeah, I think so. I rummaged around my room, searching for the hippie bag itself. *Sniff... Sniff* what the hell is that smell? I pulled the blanket up and low and behold it's my bag, but holy shit does it stink. It smells like a skunk, that's pretty fucking gross. Tediously I picked the bag up, cautious of what could be in it. Not so tediously I tipped my bag upside down, the contents of it spewing about on the floor. Which is basically just a heap of receipts, papers, tampons, and other random shit. None of it seems to far out of the usual, lightly I kicked my foot at the stuff to see if there's anything rotten in the bag. There's nothing in there rotten, the sheen of the plastic bag caught my eye. I picked up and sniffed it,
"Ugh, that's it," I said as I crinkled the stuff in the bag around. Wait a minute, that's the pot, aw man, did the weed go bad? Can weed go bad, how do you tell if weeds gone bad? Well, this turned out to be a real shits-sty.