FicWad

Shane's P.O.V.

Idiots. Every last one of those fake plastic robots. They call me weird, a freak. But the are the ones who are freaks. They hate me 'cause I'm real. They wish they were me. Though there are a few other real people, but they are the real people that draw people to them. I however repel others.

My old friend Micheal sees me and smiles and waves at me to come over. But I ignore him. I've known Micheal forever. He is the only one who treats me with respect. I love him. He saved my life when I thought about taking it. If it weren't for him I wouldn't be here.

I smile back and head toward my favorite spot. Its this cool little alleyway away from the Pavillion. Its nice. Secluded. Its peaceful and relaxing. When I get there I'm shocked to see other people there. The queen of the plastics and her drones were walking away leaving a bloody mess of a person behind.

I go to see who it is and find a girl. She looks horrible. I haven't seen someone so fucked up since Micheal's last girlfriend. The plastics beat her so bad she dumped him and transfered far away. Some even say she moved out of the country. This girl must have been seen with him but she wasn't his girlfriend. He would have told me about it.

I feel bad for her so I take her to the nurse's room. Naturally the nurse ain't there so I get the stuff to clean her up. After I wipe up the blood and stitch the wounds I notice just how odd she looks. Her skin is tanned. With no sign of tan lines and its not the typical spray on or one of the tanning salon either. Her hair is a natural bright blonde. Just from looking at her I can tell she's like me. A real. Someone with depth and a past. Someone different from everyone else. I thought I was the only one like that. Its nice knowing someone out there is like me. It makes me feel almost happy that I found her.

She looks so peaceful lying there. Its strange but I have the urge to stay and take care of her. Hold her. Fix her problems. Be there for her. Just seeing her has made me happier. Happy isn't an emotion I've felt in awhile.

Except when I cut myself. Thats when I truly feel alive. Seeing her makes me feel bad for all the times I've done harm to myself. The methodical way to which I slice the delicate skin on my arm. The straight even cuts I make across my wrists and down my arms. Its gotten worse recently. At the rate I was cutting I would have bled out in a few weeks. But seeing her just lying there made me want to go home right now and through out all the blades and other things I used to cut myself.

So I decide that is exactly what I'm going to do. I ignore all the other feelings for her and silently slip out of the room. Regreting every step.