I woke up this morning, feeling good. Of course, that's what bipolar disorder does to you. It makes you happy, then sad, then you feel like you wanna stab someone, the cycle repeats. Anyways, I woke up and showered, in which I made sure to put my "special shampoo" on. It's shampoo I always put on when I'm happy. The scent makes me want to be happy more throughout the day. I run my hands through my long dyed red hair that flows down to about my waist. I get out and start doing my makeup. I look in the mirror. I look like a depressed clown barfed all over me, but a very stylish clown. Anyways, I throw on my denim jacket, full of patches from my favorite bands. I wait for my bus, when I see him. More like it, I don't think it qualifies as human. That's right, Derrick Davie. The first thing he says is "so where you headed, sweet cheeks?" Except with a little more, shall we say, strong language. He starts making fun of me, riding his little bike in circles around me like a little kid in a corny movie. After insulting me for what felt like an hour, my bus came. Nothing new. I should have put three gallons of special shampoo in my hair.
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The End
Short Story"Hello, My name is, well, that's not important. What is important is my story" TRIGGER WARNING~ THIS STORY MIGHT BE A LITTLE EXTREME FOR SOME PEOPLE. This is a short story project we are working on in my school. I hope you like it!
