"This always happens to me. Why me?
Anyway, this is how it went. I missed the bus Tuesday morning, so I had to walk, and right when I walk up to Daisy she spits in my face and flat out calls me an effing whore-bag! I, at the time, forgot all my senses and didn't even bother denying that little name. Well I am now, so bug off. Anyways..after that, we just didn't talk. I didn't even think of asking her why she thought I was a whore, but that doesn't really matter now. No, I'm not doing anything too stupid or dangerous, so don't go all mushy-gushy on me about how my life is worth anything in this dump of life. It's not true.
You know, it's actually a little funny. I once said that the only thing that could break me and Daisy apart was death....Seems kinda pointless now..I don't know, maybe she just never like me..I mean, it's happened before. I had a few friends who were posers and they never actually really liked me, they just figured they needed another partner in crime. No, nothing big like robberies or drug dealings, mainly graffiting the school grounds and stuff.
I could just lie and say that this doesn't really bother me. But I'd be telling the biggest lie of my life. Truth is, it really effing hurts! I never thought not having any friends would hurt this much, or make life not worth living anymore. But I guess I thought wrong. Big time, huh? Some times I feel like crying, but mostly I'm just dying. It's true, even if it does sound a little "emo" of me.
I just realized how many stupid things I've done in my friendship with Daisy. Looking back, she only ever got me in trouble. I look at my arms and see all the scars and tattoos, and I scoff. It makes me sick. I got a freaking tattoo with her on our sixteenth birthdays, and now it looks just plain dumb. No wait, it still looks kinda cool.. No, it's definitely stupid. The point of this rant/blog/thing is to show how cruel people can be. Send me hate mail if you think I honestly give a damn. Otherwise go screw yourselves. I'm out."
I clicked on the submit icon and stood up. I've been doing this blog thing for forever. I think that just might be my last one for a while. "Jeez, I can't believe I said I was a virgin to the world. How stupid!" "OK, stop talking to yourself, Ambre, you've already got enough problems as it is!" "Oh shut up, you're just the voice inside my head, you don't exist." "The hell I don't! Who do you think tells you what to do all the time?" "Go away!" "Make me." "ARGH!!!!"
I stormed off, tired of talking to myself in front of the mirror again, and went into the bathroom. My shattered mirror and a dozen reflections of me stared back as I turned on the water and climbed in the tub, ready to come clean. Stupid expression. Come clean, who was I kidding. I just lost my reputation, and all I can think about is coming clean?! I must be crazy. No, crazy was when I tried committing suicide. They say suicide is painless...Well, Marilyn Manson does, but he's just bullshitting around. Suicide hurts like hell, and it hurts a lot more people than you'd expect. Like, I might not have any friends, but at least I have my mom. Well, in a way I have my dad, but he's in a completely different state, with my little brother, Steven. God I miss that little twerp.
I closed my eyes and leaned my head back as the steaming hot water rushed out and covered my body, burning it a deeper red every second. Hey, laugh now, but it's a hell of a lot better than cutting. Right?
A good 10 minutes should be good, or at least until it doesn't hurt anymore.
A knock on the door snaps me out of my day dream. Crap, how long have I been in here?
"Ambre, are you almost done? We have to go meet the neighbors. And you're using all the hot water!"
Of course, it's my mom. Well, I gotta be thankful for something, right? I mean this water could have been a lot more damaging than before if she hadn't knocked. I love her so much.
I turned off the water and climbed out of the tub, checking myself in the mirror. I had a huge red blotch of burn marks in the middle of my back. I smirked. Better than before. I almost started to smile, when I remembered that I didn't have any clean clothes to wear.
"Ambre, watch your mouth!" my mom yelled up the stairs. I smirked and stalked over to the gross dirty clothes pile in the corner of my room.
I decided on wearing my old skinny jeans, complete with black and white chains, and tugged on my favorite black shirt that had, in red lettering, the words USELESS on the front. And of course, what else but my black and red converse? Well actually, I colored the white red, so yeah..
"Ambre, we're leaving! Hurry up!"
"Chillax mom, I'm coming!" Grr, she's always in a hurry. Only makes sense she married (and divorced) someone as slow as my dad.
I took the stairs two at a time and made it out the door after grabbing my keys. Once inside the car, my mom started to back out of the drive way.
"STOP!" I screeched. My mom braked faster than you can say 'I', and looked around.
"What, what?! Did I hit something?!"
"Hang on, I'll be right back!" I ran out of the car, into the house, up the stairs, to my room, and all the way back out again. My mom was tapping the steering wheel in that irritating motion of hers.
"OK, we can go now."
"And what in God's name did you so urgently have to get?" she ventured.
"Oh, my gloves!" I proudly held up my favorite pair of skeleton fingerless gloves that I'd found a couple of years ago outside my school. They were awesome, I tell you, and they actually had some luck in 'em.
We drove (I really actually don't know why) literally four houses down before my mom stopped and made me get out.
"Uh mom? I thought we were coming to meet the neighbors." Oh great, she's doing it again.
"No, you're going to meet them. I have a dinner date with David tonight. I'll pick you up at ten, that's when you should be done."
"Done doing what, may I ask?"
"Eating dinner with them of course! God, you kids and your brains these days.." she muttered.
"Whatever. Later, I guess."
She didn't even bother saying goodbye as she drove off. Psh, mothers. Who needs 'em? I walked up the walkway to the front door, suddenly getting that nerv-wracking, jittery feeling you get when you're meeting someone new all by yourself. You probably don't get them that often, do you? I do.
I rang the doorbell and waited about five minutes before anyone answered. I was expecting to see an old lady with horrible wrinkles and stinky breath, who would then invite me in for some dinner and tea and then we'd possible play cards. Don't ask, my mom usually arranges things like that. But what I wasn't expecting at all was some teenage boy with black scruffy hair, glaring at me like I was scum on his shoe.
"Oh. It's you."
I swallowed before speaking. "What do you mean 'oh it's you', who were you expecting, a stripper?" I asked with a bit more sarcasm than was needed. Sarcasm is my best friend.
The boy frowned. "No. I was expecting some one a little shorter.. Goes by the name Frank."
I scowled, then smirked. "Well, get used to it. Apparently my mom just dumped me here and said that I'm eating over. I could just go home though... Oh, what will my mother think when she finds out.." I trailed off and then turned and started to walk away.
I spun around slowly and glared at him. "What?"
"My mom wants you to come in. She says you have to."
'Oh how nice...His mommy wants me to come in!' I thought to myself.
I just walked up and went right past him, waiting in the living room, I think it was. Whatever it was, it was big. Bigger than mine.
"This way." I walked behind him, and we entered a kitchen. It was beautiful, might I add. Oh dear, now I was getting jealous of their house.
"Mom, here's the girl you wanted."
"Oh really, Gerard, be nice," a woman scolded. "Hello dear. My name is Donna Way. This is Gerard-"
Gerard scowled. My mission was to not punch his lights out.
"-And this is Michael."
"The name's Mikey. 'Sup dude?" a kid with dark, spiky blond hair and black and white glasses said, nodding at me. I hid a giggle and gave him the 'nothing' look. He shrugged and continued to walk away.
"I'm sorry, but I seem to have forgotten your name."
"Ambre," I whispered, but just barely. I was suddenly shy, and I had absolutely no clue why.
"Well Ambre, it's nice to have you here with us. I don't suppose you've brought your bags with you?"
I stared at her. "What do you mean my bags? I thought I was just over for dinner."
She looked at me for a quick second, and I had the strangest feeling something bad was about to be said. "Oh dear. She said you might not know. I had no idea she didn't even mention it!" she mumbled.
"Excuse me, but what? I don't understand what's going on here." My new mission was to not freak out.
"Your mother is taking a trip. You're staying here, for a while, until she comes back."
"What? Why? What's wrong with me staying at my house?"
"Well, your mother said she was worried about you being alone for too long. So I offered to have you here." She gave me a small smile.
"Oh." That's all I could manage. A small, quiet, squeak of an 'oh'. Well. It seems my mother has done it again!
"So, as soon as dinner's over, we'll take you home to pack your things."
"And just where will I be sleeping?" I was already afraid of the answer when she said it.
"You'll be rooming with Gerard."
"What?!" him and I exclaimed at the same time.
"Gerard, you're sharing a room and that's final."
"But mom, why can't she stay in Mikey's room, and Mikey share mine? I mean...." he looked at me funny. "She's kind of weird."
Donna seemed to think for a moment, then looked at me. "Well dear, you have a choice. You could stay in Michaels' room-"
"Mikey," he and Gerard corrected.
"-Mikey's room, or you can room with Gerard. Take your pick."
I thought for a good solid minute, before I realized why Gerard didn't want me in his room. He didn't like me, and therefore he wouldn't want me anywhere near him. Having thought that, my choice was clear.
"I think I'll stay in Gerard's room, Ms. Way. Thank you."
Gerard started to protest but Donna just held up one hand and he fell silent. "OK. Gerard, after dinner you will help Ambre pack her things and move in. You can go make up the bed right now."
Gerard glared daggers at me, then turned and walked upstairs.
"Are you sure you don't want to change your mind? Gerard can be a real pain sometimes," Donna said. I smirked.
"Well then. It's time that boy learned to deal with a girl."
Donna and Mikey shared a look of wonder, then they both set to work with the food. Ah, sweet horror. I love making people's lives miserable.
^ ^ ^ ^ ^ ^
Dinner was.....well, let's just say it was kind of weird. Gerard glared daggers at me, Donna smiled, and Mikey kept filling me in on precisely how many germs are in the common household. And after learning all the different types of germs, I've officially decided that three showers a week aren't enough. Better make it six or seven- a day. I helped Donna clean the dishes, and then Gerard walked me over to my house. He's outside right now, while I'm packing. Let's see.....do I take this pair of pants or this? Oh man, packing is so hard right now! This bra or that bra, these underwear or those underwear, and which shirts and make up do I take? This could take a while.
I'm still trying to get over the fact that my mom just left me here with these people, who clearly went out of their way (well maybe some more than others -cough cough Gerard cough-) to make up a bed for me. Donna's nice. They always are. Until you stay a week and then they crack down with the whole "I need your help with this dear, do you mind?" Then the next thing you know you're doing all the chores and dishes! My mom's other friend did that. I mean, sure she was like 70 years old or something, but you'd think she could at least wash her own laundry! Anyway, enough gross thoughts. I'm officially done packing.
I shut my bedroom door and walked downstairs, out the front door, and locked up the house. Gerard was across the street looking over at me, probably wondering why we have such a dorky looking house. (My mom had gotten the idea that she wanted a purple and green house, whereas all the other houses were either black or white. Big dorky!)
"Are you done?" he called. I just shrugged and walked off towards his house. He came trotting over and grabbed my bags right out of my hands.
"Um, I can carry those thanks," I said as nicely as I could.
"No, I'm gonna carry 'em. Mom says I have to."
"You always do what you're mom says?"
He smirked. "No. Do you?"
I frowned. "Of course not. What kind of daughter would I be then?"
I swear he almost laughed. Well actually, he did laugh. But only because I tripped and fell down, landing flat on my ass.
"Oh, can it before I make you," I threatened, trying not to show that my face was red with embarrassment rather than anger.
"Whatever. Sheesh, you girls and your threats. Come on up, I guess."
I followed him up to his room and watched him dump my bags on a bed in the corner. "Nice spread you got here. Did monkey's attack first? Or was it just you."
"Monkeys. I'd be careful if I were you. They're still around, somewhere." I smirked.
"Whatever. So where do I put my things?"
"You don't. You keep them in your bag, where they belong. In fact, I'm a little surprised that you didn't come in a bag also."
"Oh wow, is that the best that you can do? Please, my mom does worse."
"Well, I'm not your mom. So get used to it, you're gonna see a lot more of it for the next month."
I groaned as I remembered that I would be here that long. I still can't believe my mom! Downstairs the doorbell rang, and Gerard's mom called up at him. "Gerard, Frank's coming up!"
"Alright!" he exclaimed, fisting the air. What. A. Boy.
"I don't know. Must be my best friend."
"You have friends? No way!"
I was about to come up with another smart ass comment when this guy just walks in and sits on Gerard's bed. I looked him up and down, from where he was sitting, and turned around, putting my bags under the bed I was going to use. I sat down and took out a book to read, then I actually tried concentrating on it. Only I couldn't. You know why? Because I kept getting distracted by that guy talking. I think his name is Frank. But I really don't even care. Or do I.. Eh. Might as well listen in on what they're saying.
"So how's it goin'? I heard you have to share your room with a chick." I could tell he was smirking.
"Really. And who told you that?"
"I have my sources."
"Mikey. I should've known. So what do you wanna do?"
"Actually, I kinda want to meet this girl. She might be fun to hang around."
There was the sound of a smack against a head, and Frank grunted. "OK, jeez, you didn't have to smack me. I was only thinking that, you know, maybe she's into the kinda stuff we're into."
Scuffling footsteps and falling objects made me look up, right as a big black body fell on top of me.
"Wow, Gerard, this bed got more squishy since the last time I stayed over.. Oh." The last word was breathless as he got up and looked down at me.
"Oh, you must be th-the girl who's staying here," he smiled, then whispered fiercely at Gerard, "Why didn't you tell me she was in here?!"
"I figured you'd look around first, not just go right into talking about her!" Gerard whispered back just as fiercely.
"Hey, don't blow up on me, she's your guest, not mine, so-"
"Shut up, or go away."
"Yeah? Well.. you're short."
"Well at least I'm not ugly."
"Yeah, but you're fat."
"Psh, whatever man, in your wildest fantasies." He turned to me, and smiled. "Hi, I'm Frank, Gerard's supposedly best friend. And you are?"
"I'm, um.. Ambre. Nice to meet you." I tried to smile, but I don't think it worked. He smirked.
"Wow Gerard, she's just like you! She can't smile either. How ironic."
"Shut up before I pummel you, Franklin."
"Ouch, that hurts. Well, Ambre, it was nice meeting you. How long are you here?"
"A month," I said quietly, shutting my book and standing up. I was barely taller than him, mainly because I hadn't hit my growth spurt yet. It sucks. "Well, it was nice meeting you too, but I gotta go, um.." I trailed off and looked at Gerard. "Um, where's your bathroom? I need the shower."
Frank snickered, and Gerard smacked his forehead. "Damn, I forgot that part. Uh, how bad do you need the shower?"
I raised my left eyebrow in an attempt of a smirk. "You're kidding, right? You're honestly asking a girl how badly she needs a shower?"
Frank giggled quietly and earned a jab to the gut from Gerard's elbow. "Right, well then. It's down the hall on your immediate left. That should do it."
"Right. Thanks, I guess." He and Frank both nodded, then started to argue about who was smarter. What boys.
I found the bathroom and discovered that it was a bit cleaner than mine, but it was also smaller. How comforting. I found everything OK, except I needed a razorblade. You know, to shave with? Yeah, I wasn't about to ask Gerard for one of those. Instead I hunted down Donna and found her in the living room. And surprisingly Gerard, Mikey, and Frank were all there too. This could be a little awkward, if I didn't word this just right to her. I went over and bent down next to her ear.
"Donna," I whispered.
"I need a razor. For the shower."
"Oh! Second drawer on the right side of the sink."
Then I continued to walk up to the bathroom again, and then took my shower. I hope I didn't take too long, though.
Hey people :) I was browsing through everything I've written (and saved) so far, and I found this. It's one of my favorites, right next to Demolition Lovers and Caught Up In This Web (which I'm still working on, I promise!) So I hope you enjoyed it xD I've only got about six chapters on it so far, but I'm hoping that will change - if I can somehow get myself in the mood for writing!
Anyway, peace out :)
And I lurve you all!!