So Long And Good Night

Chapter One (Introduction)

(A/N) I will try update once or twice a week, but im not sure if ill be able to yakno. anyway i write this on my laptop on google docs then go on my phone google docs and copy and paste it to here so yakno it might be a bit different writing style chapter. ok heres the piece of shit i call  writing. enjoy motherfuckerz

It was the summer break; I’d just moved here. From England. I am so going to get picked on for my accent, I just know it. My dad said I wouldn’t but it was obvious I would.
My name is Phoenix, I’m 16, my hair is always in a different style and different colour. Currently, it’s short, like, not shoulder length short, but a ‘boy haircut’ short. A pixie cut, with short sides and back and longer on the top. The sides and back are dyed a blood red, and the top is dyed inky black, with dark blue and dark green highlights. I don’t actually remember what colour my hair is supposed to be naturally, I guess it’s always been dyed and I can’t ever see my roots. Anyways, I moved to New Jersey from England. North Yorkshire, to be exact.
I didn’t really have any friends there, unless you count my record player and vinyls. But they’re coming with me so I had no one to miss, and no one to miss me. Except maybe the teachers, they might. I was a straight A student, in the top sets for everything, and always helping out after classes and volunteering- yeah that’s probably why I had no friends. Unusual thing is (well not really unusual but still), I didn’t get picked on or bullied. I knew how to handle myself in a fight, and I can fight well. That might be why I was just left alone. And my fashion choices didn’t really make me look like a damsel in distress either. I always wore black, red, purple, dark green, gray and sometimes white. I once did get picked on for being emo and well, let’s just say no one tried to make fun of it again, and this person was in the hospital for ‘falling’ wink wink he didn't actually fall wink wink out the second floor of a building and breaking his foot. Yeah people are pretty scared of me. I’m basically the school emo with no friends, but also terrifies people so doesn’t get picked on.
So, a little bit more about me. Well, I’m 5’8”, so yes I’m tall, maybe another reason why no one messed with me and were scared of me. But when I wear the doc martens I never take off, I’m 5’10”. Yeah I’m tall.
My eyes are blue. Really blue, with a tint of green around the pupil. I’m pale, but tan easily, I have a few freckles, I’ve got two eyebrow slits that I did myself (I mean, how else you gonna get them), I play guitar, bass, piano, and I like singing, but no one’s heard me except my dad, my favourite bands are Green Day, All Time Low and Paramore. My nails are always painted with the nails on my left hand black, the ones on my right hand red. Also, I am the biggest bisexual ever, and a huge feminist and shit, if you gathered that yet. I’d turn fully het for Dallon Weekes or fully gay for Hayley Williams though. The only makeup I ever wear is eyeliner and eyeshadow. I sometimes go for a full face though, and when I do, I have talent. I have lip piercings in the form of snake bites, a septum piercing, and three in each ear.
I write poetry, a lot. It’s how I get my feelings across to other people, or just to get my thoughts out of my head. See, I don’t like telling people about my thoughts or feelings. I have depression, anxiety, and used to have a few EDs. The EDs are gone now but I still have phases where I won’t eat for a few days, but it’s not as bad as it used to be. I always draw a lot, that also helps me get shit out my fucked up head.
I had an older brother who left with my mum when I was 5. Her and my dad had a divorce because of her cheating on my dad with her boss to get promotions and all that shit, then my dad got custody of me but not my brother. Me and my dad are really close, and he’s the only person I have in my life that I love because, like I said, I have no friends. He’s also the only reason I haven’t ended my life yet, I tried once, and he was broken, so I knew that if I did and it worked, he wouldn’t be able to carry on. I still self harm, a lot, but not as much as before. Anyways, that’s me and my fucked up pity party for life. Here’s what this actual story is about.