Decay With Class

We got home, and I almost ran to the fridge, and grabbed last night's chinese. I was so hungry, you wouldn't believe! I slapped my dixie plate down on the table, looked around, then looked at the food. All at once there were several things going on in my head at one time.

I instantly forgot my hunger, and took my plate into my, or realistically said, mine and Summer's room, and started writing. I took a couple bites every now and then, wrote some more, ate a little. Eventually, I had five or more pages of just nonsense shit that I figured I could deal with screaming.

"What the fuck are you doing?" Summer said, looking at me, then my nearly frantic writing. I looked up at her, and took a long drag from my eighth cigarette.

"I'm writing."
"What'cha writing?"
"Just some stuff."

Summer huffed a little, then closed my door behind her. I looked around my room, wishing I had any degree of me written anywhere.

Back home, in Kansas, the walls were drawn on, the sheets as black as my hair used to be, posters, boxes of old punk records, books on the occult, and random playing cards from various anime shows flug everywhere. I know it sounds like my room was huge, but it was smaller than your average dining room, with wooden doors, and the windows always covered.

Peach colored walls, a bed with no bedstand (which I personally chose of the hideous thing that was here before), a book case with my few favorite books, and the rest of that book case held my whole life savings of music... from my fifth grade year.

I was always looking for new, better music, if you will, and my fifth grade year held nothing back.

And I was pretty happy to say, I was that scary kid in the back of the room... At least until the teacher moved me to the front.

Man, I miss home... But I don't think I'll ever care to go back to there... Which sort of stopped being a home when I turned thirteen, and went a little more war-like. I had a great family, a great life, but my family just didn't understand what music meant to me... And barely ever cared what I thought about anything... But I usually got what I wanted, so I'm not overly resentful.

I sat up from my spot on the hard wood floor, and took another drag before giving up on the pages of random cues, and went into the dining room, where I heard loose chatter.

"Ha, Sus! You finally left your room. Amazing." Kortni laughed, and I smiled.
"Fucking weird, I know."

"Heyhey, you wanna go to a HIM concert tonight?"