(please do not respond to this post. use the above post instead)
my first page!
"Ramona, I just want to say... I'm sorry. I'll be going away on a trip, but I'll always, always love you! You'll remember that, won't you? Won't you?!"
"WAKE UP!"
You're woken from your dream by your mom. "Mommm, what are you doing? I'm TRYING to sleep!"
"It's time for school! Get dressed, honey-bun."
"Ugh," you say, tossing out of bed. "Fine."
You walk over to the closet, eyeing yourself on the mirror as you pass. You're a cute, thin seventeen-year old girl, with many thin scars covering your arm. They're all from cutting, or self-harm as some would call it. Your hair is black, but you've dyed it with several purple streaks, to compliment your purple contact lenses that mask your heterochromia (without them you have one green eye, and one brown). Other than that you have a strange moon-shaped crescent scar right under your right eye, which no one, not even your mom, can tell you how you got. One day it just seemed... to appear.
You walk to the closet and throw out a purple top and jeans. Ugh, mom clothes. Maybe a popular girl like... Tracey could pull it off, but never you. You toss them aside and put on a purple and black hoodie, because thankfully your mom still knows your favorite color is purple, then go to the restroom to bandage your arms, just to make sure no one notices your scars.
Walking down the stairs, you grab a glass of orange juice and scarf down two pieces of toast.
"Aren't you going to eat your sausage and eggs?"
"No, Mom. I'm vegan."
"Oh, okay. That's one of those fad diets, right? Like pil...pilah...pliadies? Something like that. Anyway, don't go too overboard with those diets. You know, eating disorders are really..."
You totally zone out your mom, and instead grab your backpack to head off. You could walk, or take the bus to school.
ill take the bus please
If you walk, your pits will reek. And you don't want to stink at school. You stop by the bus stop and wait.
Soon, a bright yellow school bus drives by and stops. The door opens and the driver, an obese, 40-something man with a cigarette in his mouth, eyes you up and down.
"Get in," he says, eyes back on the road. You comply and step onto the bus. Thankfully Tracey drives to school, otherwise you'd have hell to pay.
You walk to the back of the bus and take a seat in the corner, avoiding eye contact with any of the other passengers. You don't want to start another fight this week.
(this is just what I've got so far. LOL i almost think i should hope maybe to keep the 'pickle' titled link later on just as a fun reference!)
