Too Weird To Live, But Much Too Rare To Die

Chapter 1

"Master of Puppets I'm pulling your strings! Twisting your mind and smashing your dreams.

Blinded by me, you can't see a thing. Just call my name, 'cause I'll hear you scream! Master! Master! Just call my name, 'cause I'll hear you scream! Master! Master!" The alarm on my phone was currently blaring Metallica throughout my room. Ugh school. I didn't want to get up and go to that hellhole. Then again who does? Especially since it's Monday. Oh how I hate Mondays. They're the absolute worse. Monday meant a whole new week of obnoxious assholes and bitchy teachers that make it a point to let me know that i'm a bother. But of course I have to go. I crawl out of bed only to come face to face with my dresser mirror. I hate what I see. I hate me. I've tried to change myself, but it seems as if that no matter how I look or what I do differently, I'm still me. The me that is too fat, but too skinny. The ugly me. The me that is hated by literally everyone I cross paths with. The me that has ugly scars across my thighs and forearms. Some silver against my pale skin, but some a bright red from the newer incisions. It's horrid, the things I do to myself. I hate it. But I can't help it. I sound pathetic I know, but when you're repeatedly told the things like, 'You're a waste of space.' or 'You should just kill yourself and end your stupid life already.', it starts to sink in.

I sigh to myself and look away, ashamed of what I see. Might as well get this over with. The sooner this day's over the better. Who knows, maybe today will be a good day? I stifle a yawn while looking for my brush to fix my hair up a little. I soon find it on the floor next to the pile of clothes from yesterday's misadventures. I furiously brush out the snags in my naturally wavy hair, and throw it up in a side ponytail. I'm way to lazy in the morning to do anything with it. After that I start applying some simple eye makeup around my grayish-blue eyes to help make them pop a little bit. I walk back into my room to get my phone, but stopped when I noticed an old picture of my parents and I on the floor by the nightstand. I bend down to pick it up and can't help but form a sad smile at the memory. It was a picture of all of us at some random water park. I was 10 at the time. Things were simple back then. I rub a finger gently over my parents faces as I feel tears threatening to pool over. This picture was taken almost a year before they passed away. We were all so happy, and didn't have a care in the world. Or so I thought..

I sigh shaking my head slightly as I lay the picture on my nightstand. I grab my phone before heading to the bathroom to wipe the tears that managed to slip out. My eyes are bloodshot and my makeup smeared slightly. 'Fuck me.' I curse at myself before reapplying my black eye liner.

As soon as that's done I check my phone for the time. 6:35! "Fuck!" I cursed to myself, "I'm going to be late again!" I throw on a loose fitting Pantera crewneck and quickly slide into my gray skinny jeans. Where are my damn shoes!? I look around for my plain black and white converse and soon find them next to my iPod in my bathroom. I slide them on, grab my iPod, and shoot out the door as fast as I thought possible. Huntington Beach High School is 15 minutes away walking distance, and school starts in 10. Well, I guess this is a good time for some exercise huh? I break out into a jog so I'm not late. I hate being late because that means when you walk into the room everyone's eyes automatically turn to you, and comments like, 'Oh it's just the freak.', start flooding in. That's the last thing I want.

As i'm running I slide my iPod out of my pocket, stuff my earbuds in my ear, and click shuffle. When Korn starts blaring through my ears, I look up and next thing I know I'm falling face first into the ground. I instinctively push my hands out to break my fall. Of course. Leave it to me to trip over air. I lay there for a minute waiting for the pain to hit. I look at my hands that are a scraped up bloody mess. I pick myself up and dust myself off as best as possible. My skinny jeans have scuff marks on the knees now. Great. I sigh at myself and look around for my iPod. Oh man, I hope it's not cracked. I look on the ground frantically only to find an all too familiar pair of old beat up red converse. Fan-fucking-tastic. Fucking hell I haven't even reached school yet and my day is already turning out terrible. "Looking for something?" I look up reluctantly to see a pair of brown eyes accompanied by a sinister looking grin plastered on the face of someone i've grown to hate more than anyone else in this world.

"Give it back Jonathan."