Story of a freak.

providenceDiscord

I know what your thinking. This is going to be some weird action thing or another boring story about some girl who is some twiggy little bitch, that is running from her troubles and has shit coming after her. Well I guess that is sorta true... if you take out twiggy and little. And boring, demolish that word. After so long I can't think of a time I wasn't driving around the country and hiding in plain sight.

My name is Alex Mayson. I am a sorta heavyset girl of on average 162lbs and about 5'4". (Yeah and also I'm not telling you that again, that's just rude bro.) I have semi short strawberry-blonde hair that covers most of my features with a flip of my hair. I ware brown contacts to offset the violet hue of my eyes somehow making them seem hazel. I tend to ware leather clothes, that or fire-proof cotton. (Never know when you can get thrown into fire. Terribly annoying to come out from a burning building, naked and as unharmed as the day your born.)

I used to have a family, mom dad, three older brothers just reaching 18,19, and 27. After my first run in with them I ended IP with my view of the world skewed sideways. Adopted. Whada'ya know. But that was three years ago, remember the past and live in the present, and run to the future.

I keep polite tabs on them now, making sure they haven't bit-the-dust. But as much as I miss them I can't go back. After even ignoring my promise to leave thirteen white roses at my grave after my funeral, I broke my promise to my bestest friend Madz, and left a dozen black to be delivered. She wasn't really named that originally but I don't know what it was originally. I haven't been able to keep a single promise since then...

The roses were to symbolize if I was truely dead or not. She and I had made promises back in the sixth grade when we were both at that low depressed angsty point, that we would leave messages behind if we faked our deaths. White to represent we wanted to meet and needed help getting out of the country or some such and Black roses, to represent if we had known that our deaths were coming and had planned for these to be sent to our headstones. It was amazing how many showed up. Didn't know that many people actually knoticed me... I haven't contacted any of them since.

Its been three years exactly. I dropped my old name and life, but kept apart of my identity. I am "May's Son" my friends used to say. They said that cause I was one of those awkward band geek, goth girls,surrounding myself with other geeks dwebs goths and nerds to try and not feel so much like an outcast even when I was little, who was depressed hating life, and loathing myself, trying to figure out what the fuck I wanted to do after highschool, just at the end of sophomore year of highschool in a little town called New Richmond near Cincinnati Ohio.

Gods do I wish I could go back and change my choices. But its not like they wouldn't affect the outcome. I would still be running from the world.