Lancer had found herself dreading practice that morning, the crisp air felt like nothing good as it filled up her burning lungs. She scraped for air as she continued to run about the football field, sad enough the school couldn't afford an expansion for the soccer teams' own field, with the soccer ball at her feet. Soccer came naturally to her by this point, it was one of the only times she felt confident that she was doing something right. The line between right and wrong became a bit of a blur over the years, taking shots in the back of Ziggy's car seemed right at the time but so wrong the morning after. These were only few of the thoughts that coursed through her mind as practice came to an end. She found herself back underneath the bleachers merely a half an hour later, a cigarette hanging from his lips, black skinny jeans clinging to her legs, black vans tied to her feet, and a navy blue tank top that hung loosely from her shoulders.
She didn't have many friends at the damned school, but could she find it in her to care? Not really. School is really just another place for adults to drill information into your developing brain. That's basically taking advantage of children. Which kinda sucks.
Lancer found herself wishing upon another silly star for a new lighter, her's was running out of fluid which was quite saddening to the teen. She heard the warning bell go off in the distance, meaning there was ten minutes before all tardies were counted for a detention
YOU ARE READING
Everything I Didn't Say
RandomA collection of writing excerpts that have found themselves forgotten about in my drive.
