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emoxMCRx4ever

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  My eyes open to see I'm not in my dark bleak room. The shades are open, and the sun is shining through the open, clean windows. I sit up quickly and run to my shades and window to sheild the bright rays, covering my dark eyes and hissing like a vampire exposed to garlic.

  I grumble to myself and get dressed in my normal attire, black upon black upon black. I slip on an AFI t-shirt with Tripp skinny jeans and my wrecked-up Coverse.

  Then it was time to see my horrid face staring at me in the mirror as I cover all of the ugliness up with eyeliner and eyeshadow. Slowly stroking the eyeliner under and over my eye, I look into my blue eye and see a tear. But why am I upset? Sad memories suddenly flash through my head again. I close my eyes and return to the present. I finish trying to make myself presentable, and walk downstairs to leave for school.

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  Walking to school, I look at my feet going right, left, right, left. All that's under me is the cold cement sidewalk threading continuously like a treadmill. The cheerleaders and the jocks speed past me in their Mercedes Benz' and Mustangs calling me names like, "Cutter" and "Zombie Girl". Then that stupid bitch Brandy (The Cheer-Squad Leader) calls out in her high-pitched tone, "Hey Emo Girl, where's your razor? I bet you left in your bathroom where you cut yourself!".

  I just pretend to ignore her hurtful words, but they go through me like bullets. I can't help to clench a fist and hold back tears. To drown out their constant giggling and laughing, I blast my iPod to max volume, until all I hear are the screams of Escape The Fate.

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  "Late again, Nicole?" my teacher shouted across the room. The class snickered. "Uhmm, yea?" I reply walking to my usual seat in the way back of the classroom. I drop my black canvas messenger bag to the cold tile floor, hearing a boom. "Alright, time to take notes. Please get out a sheet of paper and pen" the teacher announces.

  "YES!" I think, "Perfect time to write in my diary....."

  I take out my black and red pen and open up the crinkled pages of my diary and begin writing.....

  "Dear Diary,

  So much for a good dream getting me over 'The Memory'. This time, I guess evil can attack dreams too! Ugh! It won't stop! But to make matters worse, walking to school was almost like going to Hell. Bitchy Brandy asked me where my razor was and she said it was probably in the bathroom where I cut myself. I wish they all died....x_X Once again, I have to cry. But all I can do now is hope for the best. Hiding myself from the world and hoping not to be noticed. Oh crap, the teacher called on me. Write later......."

  "Yea?" I ask. "Proper young ladies do not reply with 'yea'." she corrects me, as usual. "Yes?" I say rolling my eyes. "Answer the question, or were you not paying attention?" she snapped.

  "CRAP!" I thought. "What was the question????". I peer onto my neighbors notes and see the question. "Oh great. We're learing fractions. I'm an idiot. 'What's the percentage of one-fourth?' Ugh! Some easy stuff."

  "Twenty-five percent." I answer. "Correct. Now please pay attention."

  "Which I am not gonna do! Heh heh heh..."

  The bell finally rings and I slowly pick up my stuff and leave, staring at the tiles that repeat. Maroon, white, maroon, white. At least I'll get to see my best friend Allison in Language, and I won't be completely bored.

  I arrive to my locker and turn the combination lock to my numbers (56-17-22). I grab my Emily The Strange binder, slam my locker shut and hurry to class to vent my feelings to my only friend in the world. Besides my diary.