Categories > Celebrities > My Chemical Romance > Butterflies.
Butterflies.
0 reviewsCynthia is a new student. An outcast. A reject. She secretly longs, of course, for acceptance. Let's hope she can find it.
0Unrated
CHAPTER 1~~~~
The halls of run-down, drug-filled, smoke-emersed Belleville High School crowded with students on the first day of school. The freshmen, as usual, were picked on and pushed into lockers, while the returning sophomores, juniors, and seiners laughed and felt as at ease as ever. The day passed slowly. Agonizingly boring first-day classes and lectures on how the teachers weren't going to take any nonsense was a school tradition. After 5 periods of balding fat men, blond-haired English teachers, and newbie "educators" who thought the year would be filled with hugs and smiles, the fitful students were let out to lunch.
The cafeteria was buzzing with the sounds of lunch bags opening and people yelling to their friends over the heads of blond-from-a-bottle preps, clad in daisy dukes, mini skirts, and abercrombie conformity, jocks, the aforementioned conformist's boyfriends, nerds, wearing pocket protectors and knowing they would never be good enough, and the emo/scene group, the epidimy of black converse, pegged pants, ironic T-shirts, skelaminal wear, and combat boots with oversized pants and teased hair.
It was a colourful school.
Unnoticed, black-haired girl with tiny lips and peircing hazel eyes that could knock someone dead walked into the crowded eatery. Almost glowing with an unusual pallor, she sat down, alone, and took out her lunch. Her size 6 converse and pegged skinnies with a simple black misfits T-shirt drew no notice for quite some time. Finishing her tofurky samwich, Cynthia took out a sketchpad and began to draw. Slowly, stroke by stroke, a girl much like herself appeared on the page, with bleeding hearts in her eyes and small, fine, lips, walking down a tree-lined rode alone.
Suddenly, the brilliant drawing was torn from the page as a small "Oops!" from an obvious prep with a cruel smile.
"No problem." Cynthia said, not wanting to start trouble on her first day in a new school.
The evil grin was wiped right off of the girls face, and, shocked, she looked at Cynthia.
"You, you're not mad? Your not going to run crying from the school or anything? Because I thought that was how people like you reacted." The still unnamed prep attempted to keep up the charade of niceness, but Cynthia saw through it.
"People like me are actually pretty nice, if you don't get on our bad side." She said simply. She turned around and kept drawing. She sighed in satisfaction as she heard the prep stomp off in regret- no doubt the girls rep was damaged, and that was what Cynthia wanted.
m
The halls of run-down, drug-filled, smoke-emersed Belleville High School crowded with students on the first day of school. The freshmen, as usual, were picked on and pushed into lockers, while the returning sophomores, juniors, and seiners laughed and felt as at ease as ever. The day passed slowly. Agonizingly boring first-day classes and lectures on how the teachers weren't going to take any nonsense was a school tradition. After 5 periods of balding fat men, blond-haired English teachers, and newbie "educators" who thought the year would be filled with hugs and smiles, the fitful students were let out to lunch.
The cafeteria was buzzing with the sounds of lunch bags opening and people yelling to their friends over the heads of blond-from-a-bottle preps, clad in daisy dukes, mini skirts, and abercrombie conformity, jocks, the aforementioned conformist's boyfriends, nerds, wearing pocket protectors and knowing they would never be good enough, and the emo/scene group, the epidimy of black converse, pegged pants, ironic T-shirts, skelaminal wear, and combat boots with oversized pants and teased hair.
It was a colourful school.
Unnoticed, black-haired girl with tiny lips and peircing hazel eyes that could knock someone dead walked into the crowded eatery. Almost glowing with an unusual pallor, she sat down, alone, and took out her lunch. Her size 6 converse and pegged skinnies with a simple black misfits T-shirt drew no notice for quite some time. Finishing her tofurky samwich, Cynthia took out a sketchpad and began to draw. Slowly, stroke by stroke, a girl much like herself appeared on the page, with bleeding hearts in her eyes and small, fine, lips, walking down a tree-lined rode alone.
Suddenly, the brilliant drawing was torn from the page as a small "Oops!" from an obvious prep with a cruel smile.
"No problem." Cynthia said, not wanting to start trouble on her first day in a new school.
The evil grin was wiped right off of the girls face, and, shocked, she looked at Cynthia.
"You, you're not mad? Your not going to run crying from the school or anything? Because I thought that was how people like you reacted." The still unnamed prep attempted to keep up the charade of niceness, but Cynthia saw through it.
"People like me are actually pretty nice, if you don't get on our bad side." She said simply. She turned around and kept drawing. She sighed in satisfaction as she heard the prep stomp off in regret- no doubt the girls rep was damaged, and that was what Cynthia wanted.
m
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