Follow the Green

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PROLOGUE:

  I sat on the edge of my bed. Slowly motioning toward the rolled up paper I hid under my bed. I couldn't find it it's like a black hole under my bed, everything is gone . I search for it and I see the yellow lined paper crumbled by an old dusty social studies text book I didn't bother to return. I also see a pink sparky book. It was my old diary you know the ones we got as little kids with the locks but I can't find the key. It's cheap enough and I break the lock. I think I'll start using it again to keep a log of my adventurous life .

Chapter one:

  June 6

        I have a bunch of phobias , I think cause of my past. These include Agateophobia, Brontophobia, Kakorrhaphiophobia and a bunch more but why name them . I mean agatesphobia is fear of insanity but haven't I already gone insane . I'm writing to a diary I got when I was 6. The worst of all is depression , but hey, everyone's the same. We all go through it . It's gonna get bad. All the same shit is said by every therapist . I rather stay in room all day like a typical teen. Love, boys, friends are all figments of my imagination. True love stories only come true in the books . Oh and the princess tales as youngsters. I'm gonna go and dream about a life I'll never have .

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     I blared my Greenday album , American Idiot . I guess you can call me anti-social cause I don't leave my room much and family events don't really come easy to me. My mom comes in my room, "I think it's time you meet some people. Get out of your comfort zone."

    I wasn't answering and she kept going explaining how life is not a dark depressing hole that I'm making it. See I hate kids , I know that sounds theoretically hypocritical because I am a kid but in reality I'm different. My mom tries to get me to go to these social groups with depressed teens and it never works for me. I'm not like them. I'm more of a lost soul needing to be found. I'm a dreamer, a wonderer, an adventurer. But only an adventurer in my head. My mom forced me to get up and she said she was taking me to a social club. Why do I need to go to those? Yes, it is hard to be social because I feel like everyone would judge me; nobody will be fond of me, the terms I use and what I say. I have more intellect for my age. Normally when I talk to the kids in my school they just look at me weird and ask me what I'm saying. It makes me feel bad, wouldn't it make everyone feel bad?

I walked in, "Hello! Welcome to the HSS." What the hell does that mean and who the hell are you? I thought to myself. He is tall, brown haired, bright blue eyes, and has nice tan skin.He was maybe in his early 20s. I asked what HSS stands for. HSS stands for Happy Social Society. Can this get any worse? For real why am I here? Does my mom hate me? I slowly walked in the grey depressed room. I see a bunch of kids around my age. Everyone stared at me. I felt like a small bug; I was an outcast in a group. I just sat down and stared at the old wood floor...

"Hello....?.. Cynthia! Are you okay?" The man woke me up from a day dream.

"Sorry sir I got lost in my thoughts, just day dreaming" I giggled nervously.

"It's fine, why don't you share what you were thinking?"

"Oh no thanks".

"Why not?"

"That's not my cup of tea."

"Come on just share it"

"Leave me alone I said no! Don't you understand that? I don't even want to be here this is a waste of my time! How do you supposed us to get better if you won't even give the littlest bit of alone time with my thoughts!" I yelled at the man and ran out the door and called my mother. She better get here soon.