Tale Of An Outcast

Introduction:

There were days when nothing was complicated. The days where I dealt only with my parents bagging on me, and my best friend's ditz of a girlfriend seemed so far away. Back then, I thought I had problems but to be honest, compared to the mess my life would later become, I would rather have just dealt with my snobby, disappointed parents and Ashton's whore of a girlfriend who he refused to dump. At least dealing with them, I could be happy. I could have that mindset that I didn't give a fuck and nothing could bother me. Most of the time I didn't care. It was just who I was. But certain things happened that screwed my life up. Made me rethink things and act on impulse. Made me want to just give up. These things just added onto what I was already dealing with, making it nearly impossible to block things from getting to me.

Sometimes, I wish I could have the old days. Where I could laugh with my group and worry about nothing but what I could do to piss Coryn off. My group consisted of five people. Ash, Cal, Mikey, Luke and myself. Back then, Coryn tried and tried to be part of our group. But the only person who accepted her was her boyfriend, Ashton.

Ashton was my best friend out of anyone. He had been since fifth grade when I stabbed a boy with a pencil for stealing his new jacket. I got suspended. Ashton got his jacket back. And we both gained a new friend. There must have been something about high school that made Ashton stupid. Girls bouncing around in short skirts and tight shirts, waving pom-poms for some reason mesmerized him. I didn't understand why. But that's how it was, and that's how Cor Whore came to be my best friend's girlfriend.

I didn't didn't get it. The two were complete opposites. She was a rich bitch. Always worried about wearing the newest clothes, having the perfect hair, and driving the fanciest cars. She was a cheerleader and drove a Mercedes. Coryn lived in one of the wealthiest neighborhoods and spent her time spending mommy and daddy's money at the mall, buying clothes designed by people who's names I couldn't even pronounce. She was mean to anyone that wasn't part of her social class and didn't even know what dirt was. She cried over a broken nail and threw fits when she didn't get what she wanted.

Ashton lived with his mom in a two bedroom house in the bad part of town where the less fortunate people, and all of the drug heads lived. Everyone was friendly enough. Even the ones tweaked out on every drug known to man. He wore skinny jeans and band shirts every day, and bought his clothes from anywhere he could find them in his style to fit. He drove an old 1990 Chevy truck that had more problems than the government. He spent his time under the hood of that truck, doing what he could to make it run again when it died on him. He wasn't one to get frustrated. He was easy going and thought you made your own luck. That was probably because all of the cannabis he put into his system. Either way, he was a genuinely happy person.

It was definitely his positive attitude and his amazing personality that drew her to him. But I couldn't think of what could have drawn him to her. Other than her boobs bouncing in that stupid cheer leading uniform. They weren't much to look at. Just like mosquito bites. Mine were bigger than hers.

After Ashton, Mikey joined our group. His style was just like mine and Ashton's. Band shirts and skinny jeans. Mikey loved to laugh. His main goal was to make someone smile every day. Mikey lived in the same neighborhood as Ash, only a few houses down. He was the one in the group that always walked every where he went, unless he was with Calum or Ash. Mikey dealt with a lot of criticism because of how he dyed his hair. He also struggled a lot in school and didn't bother to show up half the time. Of course, hardly any of us did, but it was worse for Mikey. He wanted to be better, and get out of the lower level classes. He wanted to hear a teacher say they were proud of him. He joined our group when I caught some jackass of a jock calling him a retard and trying to shove him into the special needs classroom. Not only was I pissed about them making fun of Mikey, but I was also pissed about the term retard, and them referring to special needs kids as such. Those kids were smarter than those idiots. After cramming the jock's nose into his face, I helped Mikey gather his papers and walked with him to class. He just became part of our group after that.