"WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK?! CANT YOU MIND YOUR OWN BUSINESS GOD DAMN" I turn around and look at him, fucking asshole. His name is Aaron. He's fat and ugly and it's like every day he yanks the cord of my chunky headphones pulling them off of my thin face. I get weird looks from people sitting at tables around me in the cafeteria. I am sitting by myself once again. Tapping my finger to the drums of Led Zeppelin. Maybe Aurora will come and sit by me. But who knows, she's seems to be snapping at me pretty easily lately. I'm not sure if she's angry at me for something, but if she is she should tell me. I rest my head on my arm when I realize how tired I am. I really shouldn't have stayed up all night. Oh well, it's not like there's anything better to do. I was reading poetry books for hours straight. I love poetry, now only if I could write it. That'd be great.
I see Aurora slide into a seat at a different table. She's sitting by...uh..what's her name? I'm not sure. But whatever, good for her. I mean, being alone isn't that bad....yeah it is.
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Ingrid Jackson.
Teen FictionIngrid was born on December 12th, 1977. It is now 1993. She is 16 and in high school. She doesn't talk to much people, everyone sees her as a happy little quiet girl that enjoys arts. Theres a twist, she isn't that happy little girl. She is extremel...
