leave

1

/Sad/

Adjective

1. feeling or showing sorrow; unhappy

2. causing or characterized by sorrow or regret; unfortunate or regrettable

3. pathetically inadequate or unfashionable

-

There are many ways to feel sad. Possibly more ways to be sad as opposed to being happy; but that's a different topic. Sadness doesn't always have a definition. It can simply be an indescribable feeling that can stick with you for so long that you don't even realize it's there anymore. It can be caused by people, things, or it can just come to you for no reason at all. That type of sadness feels the worst, because you can't fix the problems since you don't know what the reasons are.

Then, there are things beyond sadness.

Sometimes, it can be nothing. Not happy, nor sad. Yes, if you're sad all the time, that might sound appealing. But after a while you miss the comforting feeling of... well, feeling.

Just like people say that silence is loud, nothing is everything.

I would know. I know how nearly everything feels. But I also know how nothing feels, and I can say that nothing is everything.

-

My name is Elizabeth, but people either call me Lizzy or Beth. Not that I like either of them, because I don't, though I can't control what people say. I prefer Liza (with the Long-I sound) or my own name.

I wonder if people call me other things. More than likely, yes, probably some god awful words that are degrading—but maybe there are good things.

I check my phone that's sitting on the nightstand next to my bed. Unlocking it, I launch the app titled as "Sarahah." It's this app where you anonymously post on someone's account, and you also receive anonymous messages too.

-

Welcome back! Please click on My Messages to view new messages.

Home         S A R A H A H          My Messages

Elizabeth Nichols, you have 4 new messages!

-

Before I could read them, my mother called up to me from downstairs.

"Yes?" and after a moment's pause, she still didn't answer. She never does, I always have to go downstairs to know what she wants.

I opened my door and trotted down the stairs. Today was bright, and the weather was fairly nice. My mom had all the doors open and blinds up, so I expect it to be hot.

"You wanted me?" I ask, standing over my mother who was digging something out of the cabinet under the sink.

"Oh, yes. There are some people moving in next door, and I'm pretty sure they have a boy around your age." She motioned her head towards the next-door house.

It was a model much like ours, not very modern, but not old either.

As much as I hated to admit it, I've always wanted a neighbor. I've lived in this house for nearly ten years, and not one person in this neighborhood was my age. Now, being almost sixteen, I needed a friend.

Not that I don't have any at my school, but a new one. Who knows? He could be gay and we could be best friends. Or we could be best friends and he could be straight. Or, he could be gay and not hang out with me at all. Same thing with being straight, I guess.

I look down at my appearance, and if I'm to be meeting new people, mismatched pajamas are not the way to go. I walk back upstairs and into my room, being sure to close my door. I bend open my curtain that faces the house next to mine, and peer down at the moving truck that's parked outside of the garage.

I didn't see a boy, however.

Instead I saw movers, and that's it. Maybe they were inside, unpacking. Oh well.

Opening my dresser, I pick out a white tank with a flannel top-shirt, and a pair of ripped jeans. I didn't pick this out to necessarily stay cool, but it's a cute outfit nonetheless and good for a first impression.

I was more of the tomboy type. I've been that way since I was a little kid, with bugs as pets and occasionally snakes. I was a weird kid, since I sometimes got bored and ate caterpillars. My mom hated that.

I have a few friends that are girls, but for the most part—I hang out with guys. My mom was scared I was going to turn out as a lesbian, which is totally messed up, but I just think guys are less drama. That is, until people assume you're in relationships with your guy friends.

Snapping myself from my thoughts, I smooth down my clothing and look in the mirror. I brush my dark hair and throw on my black flat-bill hat. But I put it on backwards. I've always done that with my hats since my dad told me you could do that.

I never bother to do my makeup, quite frankly because I look pretty decent without it.

I slip on my black Converse shoes and head outside.

-

I went through the opening of their fence and looked around for my new neighbors. Their front doors were open, so I decided to peek past them.

And that's when I saw him.

A/N: I'm so sorry, but I'm not continuing any previously uploaded stories. I've grown out of writing them but I'm committed to writing after a looong hiatus. BUT AAAAYE BITCHES IIII AM BACCKKK