FicWad

I barely got any sleep that night at all. And when my anxious, confused and irritable brain finally did decide to stop teasing and frightening me with thoughts, my dreams were haunted by terrifying, ghostly images that were only slightly less frightening then my depressing reality. I lay awake most of the night, staring out of the ajar window at the glittering stars, cocooned tightly in a crimson red, silk duvet. In the pitch black, my only source of light the thin sliver of moon and the shimmering stars, I take in the shadowy room I would now have to call my own.
It was nice, as much as I loathed admitting it, even to myself. It was half the size of my one back at home, but better decorated. The walls were a snowy white, with multicoloured paint splatters on top that must have been fun to create. A large, oak wardrobe was built into the far wall, large enough for all of my many clothes, with tons of room to spare. The carpet was soft underfoot, and black, a furry, deep purple rug sat in the centre. Sitting proudly, blank screen gleaming over at me, on top of an almost brand new desk, was a top of the range laptop.
I`m up early for once, well before the golden sun even begins to poke its glowing head up over the horizon, and in the ceramic bathtub washing my just slightly longer than shoulder length, tangled hair by the time it did. As I roughly towel dry the bright blue locks, I consider dying it another colour, it had been blue for some time now. Maybe dark purple? Or red? Or I possibly may just return it back to its original ebony, maybe put a few highlights in it. I dry myself in a rush, the chilly morning temperature beginning to make me shiver. I can`t help but quickly glance (or rather glare) at my sorry, pitiful reflection in the full length mirror. What I saw didn`t resemble the little, carefree girl I had long since abandoned at all. Not in the slightest.
And yet, this milky skinned, wild haired teenager with the pain filled eyes and the mask like expression didn`t look like the real me anymore either. She looked cruel and mean, full of bitterness and heartache from a life of misery. She was tough, and that was something I had always prided myself on, but if you looked into her hazel green, red ringed eyes deeply, you could see the sorrow that filled them, the chink in her near perfect mask.
I glare over at the girl in the mirror and wrapping, the soft, white towel around my body tightly; I rush out of the ensuite bathroom and begin to search for something to wear for my first full day in hell. After a long, tiring search I through the mountains of clothes that practically fell from my suitcase, I finally decide on an outfit. A distressed pair of denim shorts with studs on the impractical pockets, which had actually once been skinny jeans and a relatively new Misfits tank top. I pair this with a long sleeved leather jacket and a pair of knee high paint splattered converse and grudgingly leave the room just in time to hear Gerard calling my name. I would do my makeup later; I couldn’t bear to look at my reflection any longer.
I descend down the thick carpeted, cream stairs, narrowly avoiding tripping over a pair of Hollie (or Hozzie`s) forgotten boots and Gerard`s black laptop bag. From inside my jacket pocket I feel my slightly outdated mobile phone bleep and frown, confused as to who would be wanting to talk to me, especially at this unearthly hour. Turns out it was from mum. I glare, and switch the damn thing off, throwing it back in my pocket. There was no way in hell I was going to talk to that bitch; I hated her as much as I hated Gerard now.
I pause outside the living room for a moment, not wanting to go in, eavesdropping on the breakfast conversation.
“Bandit!” the blonde haired Tierney smiles down at me, her soft locks still unbrushed and her unfairly perfect body still clothed in a cotton night shirt and pants.
“Good morning!” She greats me happily, a shaky smile on her lips. “Do you want something to eat? Hozzie is just finishing up but me and your dad still haven`t had anything.”
I glare at the pretty, youthful looking woman; I so badly wanted to hate her, but this far she was giving me very little reason to. Apart from the fact that she had stolen Gerard from my mother, she actually seemed fairly pleasant. I had most definitely not been expecting that.
“That bastard is not my father.” I mumble lamely, a little too later as she had already returned her attention to the cooking.
Hollie smiles up at me shyly, from behind her cherry coloured, full fringe, her blue eyes which were lacking the pink eyeliner for yesterday, flicking to my own briefly, before the younger girl ducks her head down. Today she was dressed in blood coloured jeans black, knee high boots and a colourful t-shirt bearing a familiar logo. So she was a fan of Slipknot too. Great, just great.
“Hi.” She mumbles shyly, her shaky, surprising smile still in place as I glare at her, reluctantly taking the seat next to her, also next to the crimson haired demon that was Gerard Way.
“Did you sleep well, Bandit?” he asks politely which I ignore.
“Here you go, I hope you like bacon?” Tierney asks hopefully and I push the plate away, not caring that it seemed rude.
“I don`t eat meat. Or fish.” I add in, in case they didn`t get the message.
“Oh!” She quickly moves the plate, “Well how about some cereal?”
I sigh and shake my head. “Not hungry.”
“Are you all ready for your first day of school?” Gerard asks me, in between mouthfuls of salty, disgusting meat.
School, great. From one hell into another.
“Hozzie, tell Bee about what the school like.” He suggests to which the red haired girl blushes a little, and nibbles her lip nervously, but she nods.
“Well it ain`t too bad,” She begins hesitantly, and I can hear the strain and the reluctance in her soft, meek voice. “The other kids are mostly all right, and the teachers.”
I roll my eyes, no teachers were alright and pretty much all other teenagers were worthless little shits. I already knew I was going to fit in here. Not.