If I could change my past, one thing I would change is my mom having sex with my dad. Then I wouldn't have been born, they wouldn't have broken up after the perfect relationship. And my mom wouldn't have married an abusive, drunk douche bag. If I hadn't of been born then, I wouldn't have to kill myself in 5 months.
"Bonquisha!" The random girls ran past me yelling a made up name and interrupting my train of thought. What the hell? One of them had blonde hair, short, and annoying as hell. The other had a ponytail of dark brunette curls, she had a flannel on that was pretty cute and regular jeans.
I wanted to call them peeps but they obviously weren't, they seemed like people I could talk to if I wasn't antisocial. "Hey, you're Tekanero, right-", a girl began speaking to me. "Step away, fuck off, and re-think talking to me again." I said without turning my head. I didn't know her, and I didn't care to. Yes, I am a bitch. And proud.
CLANG! The ponytail girl had dumbly slammed into a pole, and fell to the ground. I almost felt bad for her. Almost wanted to help but what was in it for me? Talking to a pretty girl? Wait. Pretty? What the hell? Damn, I must be tired. I heard the bell for the day of dreadful damnation begin, ha, alliteration... I got up and reset my leather jacket collar.
I stepped over the ponytail girls arm and said with a laid back 'I Don't Give A Fuck' voice, "I think I saw Bonquisha go around the building..." Her face was in shock and awe, damn right. Wait... why did I talk to her? I'm not looking for friends. I'm not sticking my head out for it only to be chopped off. Why did I feel I needed to waste breath on her? Why did I want to laugh with her, and smile?
I walked to first hour and did my work. Math sucks. A guy was turning in his work to the box looked at me and spoke like he was scared of the new girl's reaction. "Damn, was that worksheet gay or what?" Well then... " What do you mean?" I asked nonchalantly. "Like stupid and, well, meaningless. I hate math." He said getting less brave and letting his guard down. Not a good choice.
"Oh yeah, because gays just have those genes that make them stupid and meaningless.: He thought I was being sarcastic when I was saying those words. Nah. I looked at myself in the mirror behind him and took on a half-smirk and death glare. He literally took a step back at this. He began trying to make a recovery.
"Oh, you coward," I said, taking a step towards him, "You can't even stutter your way out of the hole you've dug yourself into." I swiftly took my left hand and forced him down to his knees by the back of his neck, my right hand on my hip. I could tell he was in pain, my grin got wider.
People then started to stir, and I spoke loud enough for him to hear from the ground, "I'm gay! And I'm pretty damn smart. Smart enough to know different adjectives then, 'That's gay, this is gay, he's gay!' and I may not have meaning, me specifically, but others do. Watch what you say, asshole."
I released him and was taken to the office, my virtual hang out place lately. As I sat awaiting my judgement by the front desk, the blonde girl from earlier walked in and sat her backpack near me and walked into the nurses office. I saw a picture hanging off a key chain, and saw it was of the pony tail girl.
I quickly snagged it off its clip and slipped it in my pocket. I heard the nurse gall the girl Matrina. She slipped some tampons into her bag. Oh, haha. As she was walking out I said in my innocent voice loud enough for other students to hear, "Is that a ketchup stain on your pants, or did little Matrina just become a woman?"
She gasped as I laughed and ran out. I slipped my hand into my pocket and felt the picture frame outline and smiled. Why did I take it? Why did I want it???