Categories > Celebrities > Fall Out Boy > I Know I'm Supposed To Love You
Ch. 1: Bury Me Standing Under Your Window
0 reviewsAn outsider gets a mysterious note from a secret admirer.
0Unrated
A lot of people I know complain about their lives being too boring. Me, my life is crazy. Insanely so. Drama is practically my middle name. But drama doesn't come without romance, which totally makes up for the sucky drama that fills my life on a daily basis. The whole reason for me telling my story is because I want people to know that it's worth it in the end. It's possible to find your prince in shining armour even in the middle of a storm of mishaps that would break even the hardest of people. Sometimes you fall hard and fast, but there's gonna be someone to come pick you up. Trust me.
I guess I should begin with a bit about me. Alright. I was raised in Canada, in the province of Quebec, city of Montreal. Home to Simple Plan, William Shatner and Celine Dion. Haha. So, I speak perfect French, and I'm a true city girl. For the most part I had a happy childhood.
But then there's the not-so happy part. My parents abandoned me. That's my version. The government calls it 'put up for adoption'. I can't blame them, though. My parents were both 15 when they had me. They thought that they would be able to keep me, but they were both into alcohol and drugs. They ended up neglecting me, and that was when child services took me away when I was 4. I bounced around from foster home to foster home, never really wanted.
That leaves me at age 17 where my story begins. I was formally adopted at age 13, by a family called the Olsens. The next year, Mr Olsen got a job promotion. The hitch was that it was in Chicago. I couldn't really care less since I didn't have many friends I would miss back home, so we moved the Chicago. I hoped to make a new name for myself, to try and get past my history. Maybe if I stopped hanging around with a bad crowd, things would change. They did, slowly at first, but they changed indeed.
High school was something quiet for me. I still kept very few friends, didn't party, tried hard to keep my grades up. Nothing was distracting me from keeping my life on track. As an adopted kid, you need to keep your nose clean, so to speak. Being good was my top priority.
My real story begins when in late spring, when I was 17, I found a note in my locker. At first I thought it was from my friend Megan, who was the closest thing I had to a best friend at that point. I put it in my pocket, figuring I'd read it at home, in the privacy of my own home. Waiting 45 minutes didn't bother me.
I kind of forgot about the note at home. My parents were eager to tell me that a family had moved in two houses down, and that they had a son around my age. That was kind of exciting. Yet another chance for me to start clean.
After I had changed into my pajamas at around 11 did I remember the note. I fished it out of my jeans pocket, and unfurled it. This is what it read. I memorized it long ago.
"Dear Scarlett,
I've been watching you for a long time. Almost two years now. Don't be scared, but I had to tell you some way. I would have talked to you in school but I'm too shy. This seemed to be more appropriate.
If you don't want to know who I am, that's OK. All I ask is that could you come meet me at Troy's MiniMart at 11:30 tonight. Come if you want. I will wait 15 minutes for you, then leave.
Hopefully a new friend,
XO ?"
I read this with a smirk on my face. Either I had a bashful secret admirer, or a friend with a sick sense of humor. Hah. What could I lose by going? If anything, I could chat with Megan for a bit, maybe pick up a can of Coke.
Troy's was about 20 minutes away, and it was now almost ten past 11. I didn't bother to change, so I simply snuck out with only a snug black tee shirt, black satin pajama bottoms, and my Vans. I jogged there, saving myself close to 10 minutes. As son as I got there, I walked into the store, taking a quick look around for Megan, or anybody my own age. I found no one, so I quickly bought the can of Coke and stepped out again. As I turned the corner and entered the shadows, a voice that would haunt my dreams spoke finally.
I guess I should begin with a bit about me. Alright. I was raised in Canada, in the province of Quebec, city of Montreal. Home to Simple Plan, William Shatner and Celine Dion. Haha. So, I speak perfect French, and I'm a true city girl. For the most part I had a happy childhood.
But then there's the not-so happy part. My parents abandoned me. That's my version. The government calls it 'put up for adoption'. I can't blame them, though. My parents were both 15 when they had me. They thought that they would be able to keep me, but they were both into alcohol and drugs. They ended up neglecting me, and that was when child services took me away when I was 4. I bounced around from foster home to foster home, never really wanted.
That leaves me at age 17 where my story begins. I was formally adopted at age 13, by a family called the Olsens. The next year, Mr Olsen got a job promotion. The hitch was that it was in Chicago. I couldn't really care less since I didn't have many friends I would miss back home, so we moved the Chicago. I hoped to make a new name for myself, to try and get past my history. Maybe if I stopped hanging around with a bad crowd, things would change. They did, slowly at first, but they changed indeed.
High school was something quiet for me. I still kept very few friends, didn't party, tried hard to keep my grades up. Nothing was distracting me from keeping my life on track. As an adopted kid, you need to keep your nose clean, so to speak. Being good was my top priority.
My real story begins when in late spring, when I was 17, I found a note in my locker. At first I thought it was from my friend Megan, who was the closest thing I had to a best friend at that point. I put it in my pocket, figuring I'd read it at home, in the privacy of my own home. Waiting 45 minutes didn't bother me.
I kind of forgot about the note at home. My parents were eager to tell me that a family had moved in two houses down, and that they had a son around my age. That was kind of exciting. Yet another chance for me to start clean.
After I had changed into my pajamas at around 11 did I remember the note. I fished it out of my jeans pocket, and unfurled it. This is what it read. I memorized it long ago.
"Dear Scarlett,
I've been watching you for a long time. Almost two years now. Don't be scared, but I had to tell you some way. I would have talked to you in school but I'm too shy. This seemed to be more appropriate.
If you don't want to know who I am, that's OK. All I ask is that could you come meet me at Troy's MiniMart at 11:30 tonight. Come if you want. I will wait 15 minutes for you, then leave.
Hopefully a new friend,
XO ?"
I read this with a smirk on my face. Either I had a bashful secret admirer, or a friend with a sick sense of humor. Hah. What could I lose by going? If anything, I could chat with Megan for a bit, maybe pick up a can of Coke.
Troy's was about 20 minutes away, and it was now almost ten past 11. I didn't bother to change, so I simply snuck out with only a snug black tee shirt, black satin pajama bottoms, and my Vans. I jogged there, saving myself close to 10 minutes. As son as I got there, I walked into the store, taking a quick look around for Megan, or anybody my own age. I found no one, so I quickly bought the can of Coke and stepped out again. As I turned the corner and entered the shadows, a voice that would haunt my dreams spoke finally.
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