The Secret Rebel (Rough Draft)

Chapter 24

Why does it seem like every morning is the same? My thought a glum as I ransack through the dark wood cabinet, hope moderately drifting through my veins. Pulling out a bottle of white wine, I trudged back upstairs and into my cave of boredom. Hovelling down some diet pills I stared in the mirror; why do I feel so fat? Squishing some of the meat on my thighs, I looked at the mirror net to horrified. My fingers lightly trembling as the fat seemed to multiply.

Stepping out of my bathroom, I flopped onto the couch and clicked on the tv. I swear some of these people nag too much for their own good. Changing the channel to music i stood up and walked over to the drafting table.

"What if i actually planned out a fucking painting?" i spoke in a sarcastic whisper to myself.

Sitting down i flicked on a light i had practically nailed to the desk with duct tape. Now flopping down on a chair, I raked a hand painfully through my hair; pulling the wine bottle to my lips i let it linger. Relishing for a moment with the bottle weighing heavily on my lips I felt a weird emotion that made me want to jump out the window. Like a wave crashing, or some other cheesy shit like it.

Sketching comes easy, almost too easy. It's a secret talent that I've never cared to share; why would I, there's no gain from it. I'm not looking for noterity, just some color for the town. I frowned as I stared at the doodles infront of me. Dark lines staring up at me, ugly. It's all so ugly.

"Egh!" i screamed as i grabbed the doodled papers.

Crunching the papers, i threw them on the ground, neglecting the fact that the floor is actually clean for once.

"You know what? Who needs to plan out illicit crimes anways? - ok maybe people who do heists... But that's not me now is it..." scratching my chin at huffed a sigh and sat back down.

Standing up, I grabbed my bag, picking up cans I shove them under my arm. Dipping my hand I dropped the cans into the bag, shuffling over to the side of my bedside table, I dug out a plastic bag. Pulling out a joint, I slip it behind my ear then pull my hair over it. Slipping my hand up under the drawer in the stand, I feel around for the plastic bag taped to the roof. Bingo griping onto the plastic bag, tearing it down I stare at the strips of metal. A mental image of gray drifting into my head.

I feel bad, so just like, do something. I don't know

Griping the metal, I felt my face soften. He doesn't talk much now. But I think he might actually be making process. I grinned as stood up fully.

"alright... Enough moping around."

Standing at the door, I softly jimmied the lock as I slid in the metal strips. Some are more bent than others, taking that as a que, I slide more of the prongs in, and then I heard the anticipated noise of the year.

Click

Grinning, I jumped up, then swung the door open. 'they're' not home; therefore, I have free reign. Sort of. Running out of the room, I charged at full speed. Adreneline suddenly rushing through my veins; the searing feeling of being chased budding into my head. Stumbling, almost crhsing, into the hallway, I yanked a set of keys off the key rack. Giggling, I swung open the door. The darkness of the garage greeted me coolly. Shivering I clicked the unlock button and watched as the black car flashed its' headlights.

Stumble running down the stairs, I swung open the car door. Just enough to where the car door, wouldn't hit the side of the other next to it. Listening to keys click in the ignition, I lightly slapped my cheeks.

"alright now calm the fuck down!" I cackled like a maniac, my hair sprawled obnoxiously around me.

Letting the garage door open, I cranked up some tunes, and then quickly pulled out. Almost hitting a tree, I stomped down on the brakes and switched into drive. alright here we go. I think sarcatsically as I whip out the driveway, the cars inertia pulling me to the side. Correcting the wheel, I blew a heavy breath trying to free myself of my vine-y hair.