A Story of a Sad Little Boy

a story about her

She looks down. Her Friday curly hair in a chaotic bun. Her eyes a light brown, if you fall in her eyes you would be stuck. A slim but curvey figure. Her clothes slim, not tight not loose, against her body. She is loyal and kind. To her friends she was insane and inspiring. She tries to support her friends no matter what. She had a boyfriend. They weren't much but she liked that. She described his scent as something magical, something that would make anyone who smelt in swoon. Their almost kisses turned into irrational blow outside and fights. Soon she was fine. She had always said that fine was a lieing word and a word that was always hiding something. In later months she would finally smile when she said she was okay. The tried friends but thats not that would work. His irrational blow outside got worse and they ended. She still tries. She still hangs around them she has made friends with my frenemy and his friend. His clouded brain gave her a detailed description of a mindless drug clouded affair of getting over her. She unhappily read. A painful inside joke that I didn't get. She stays faithful to her friends. She is always there. As a therapist and a friend. She listened to others problems in order to wash out her own. Medicine also helps. She sits. She pits in earbuds. Music blasts. The music is by broken people who got famous by singing about their pain. She is an amazing friend and grey person. At times she messes up and gets annoyed but that's what makes us human. She pauses her music. She sees in old friend approach. She greats them. It's only been a few days since they last saw each other, and a few minutes since they last talked. She was there for them. During their emotion and mental explosion. The old friend will be externally greatful of her. She was there for one of their darkest hours. They rant and she answers with advice. She rants and they answer the best they could. They have a old friendship that was powerful. They go for a walk on February 2nd. They talk about feeling, school and just life. She talks about HIM, and they talk about past tourcher.  Together they talk about life. The bell rings,  they walk to class.  She opens her locker and puts her stuff in.  Together they walk to class.  Her story continues and she will live on.  Her part of this story isn't over but this snippet of it is. 

THANKS FOR READING.  SORRY THIS IS DIFFERENT BUT THE REST OF MY STORY IS LUNCH ROOM RANTS AND ASTRUE AUDITIONS.  I'LL SEE YOU GUYS THERE-GRIFF