Status: Well. We have no idea for the new chapter, but not the first time, so hopefully something soon. :)
Just Believe In Me
Chapter 4
I sighed after a long day of school, knowing the rest of my day at home would be even longer. That Max kid had managed to get on my last nerve, in just two classes. Chemistry, and later after lunch, English. I didn't see how he could be bitter about the damn bag that long. I mean, for God's sake, I apologized.
But that didn't really matter as I sauntered through the door of my quaint little house, and up to my room. I poked my head in my mom's room to see how she was doing. Partying took it out of her, but she always slept it off by the next night. Her breathing was long, and even. I was so used to seeing her drugged up, or stumbling into things because she was so drunk she couldn't see straight, it was always a little weird to see her looking so peaceful. I sighed, and closed the door behind me, moving on to my room, trying to pretend like this morning didn't happen.
My stuff hit the floor with a thud, as I carelessly let it fall from my hands. Homework was low on my to do list as I went to start up my computer. It hummed, and muttered as it started up, taking it's time to get going. I didn't mind as I turned on my TV for the company, and sat in my chair. The computer monitor smiled at me, inviting me to log in and hit the internet.
&&&
Time always had a way of getting away from me; it didn't matter how often I checked the clock. I had done my homework, ate, and before I knew it, 3:17am shone through the little clock. I actually had no intentions of staying up this late; today had been too much of a hassle to have a repeat, but here I was at 3 in the morning, staring at the monitor of my computer.
I didn't want to be up this late.
I was actually really bored, but I couldn't sleep even if I tried.
I looked over at the bottle of sleeping pills on my nightstand, but I was pretty sure the damned thing was empty anyway. Didn't really matter though, I was never one for pills.
Sighing, I clicked into Mibba, not really expecting anything to be different from when I checked about a half hour ago.
A new comment was pleasantly waiting for me, making me pull a surprised breath. It was on my latest poem, and I eagerly clicked, finding a nice, decent comment. I smiled, loving the fact that they had actually taken the time to analyze the metaphors. They were wrong, but hey, they were paying attention. The mouse moved over to their screen name, "TheRipper", and I clicked, letting the page load.
I was a bit shocked to find a guy on this site, let alone one who actually used it for it's intend use instead of whoring their pictures. His profile was ridden with band names, and a short description about himself, leaving out a picture. He had a great taste in music, but his name was Max. I wrinkled my nose at that, making me think about the Max at school, but quickly stopping; it wasn't fair to judge this kid by someone I knew with the same name.
I scrolled down, skipping the quotes, and random lyrics that lengthened his about box, and clicked his comment box. My fingers moving over the keyboard quickly, kind of hoping to catch him while he was still online, I wrote up a lengthy, grateful thank you.
And I just couldn't help myself, I had to add quickly at the end that he was a bit off about the whole meaning of the poem.
With that, I went off to look for a good fanfic.
About three chapters in, I went to check my Mibba again, really happy to find that I had new profile comments. It was a nice thought, having a friend on Mibba. I was kind of antisocial, even on the internet, I usually just thanked people and moved on, but I was a bit eager about this one.
He had asked me about the poem, wanting a explanation and all that stuff. Which I was ungodly happy to give him. I was full of hot air when it came to my poetry; I could explain for hours if you let me. No one had ever really let me, though.
God forbid Kimmi take an interest in what I liked for ten seconds.
I glanced over my poem, "Copper is Greater than Gold" to recall the meaning, and giggled at Max's explanation. He made it all so complicated. But that's how I wanted it, to have a double meaning.
I replied simply;
"It's about a balloon."
And waited. Laughing quietly when he replied to me, saying that there was no way the poem was just about a balloon. I went on to explain the whole double meaning thing, and he seemed to understand, replying with a very intelligent response. I couldn't tell him level of interest, because it was the internet, but he seemed enthusiastic enough to make me proud of myself.
The conversation had bumped me up to 3:58am, but now I actually felt ready to let sleep take me.
And that's what I did, I shut down my computer after ending my conversation with him, and slipped into bed.
Sleep kindly took to my eyelids, and shut them tight for the night.
But that didn't really matter as I sauntered through the door of my quaint little house, and up to my room. I poked my head in my mom's room to see how she was doing. Partying took it out of her, but she always slept it off by the next night. Her breathing was long, and even. I was so used to seeing her drugged up, or stumbling into things because she was so drunk she couldn't see straight, it was always a little weird to see her looking so peaceful. I sighed, and closed the door behind me, moving on to my room, trying to pretend like this morning didn't happen.
My stuff hit the floor with a thud, as I carelessly let it fall from my hands. Homework was low on my to do list as I went to start up my computer. It hummed, and muttered as it started up, taking it's time to get going. I didn't mind as I turned on my TV for the company, and sat in my chair. The computer monitor smiled at me, inviting me to log in and hit the internet.
&&&
Time always had a way of getting away from me; it didn't matter how often I checked the clock. I had done my homework, ate, and before I knew it, 3:17am shone through the little clock. I actually had no intentions of staying up this late; today had been too much of a hassle to have a repeat, but here I was at 3 in the morning, staring at the monitor of my computer.
I didn't want to be up this late.
I was actually really bored, but I couldn't sleep even if I tried.
I looked over at the bottle of sleeping pills on my nightstand, but I was pretty sure the damned thing was empty anyway. Didn't really matter though, I was never one for pills.
Sighing, I clicked into Mibba, not really expecting anything to be different from when I checked about a half hour ago.
A new comment was pleasantly waiting for me, making me pull a surprised breath. It was on my latest poem, and I eagerly clicked, finding a nice, decent comment. I smiled, loving the fact that they had actually taken the time to analyze the metaphors. They were wrong, but hey, they were paying attention. The mouse moved over to their screen name, "TheRipper", and I clicked, letting the page load.
I was a bit shocked to find a guy on this site, let alone one who actually used it for it's intend use instead of whoring their pictures. His profile was ridden with band names, and a short description about himself, leaving out a picture. He had a great taste in music, but his name was Max. I wrinkled my nose at that, making me think about the Max at school, but quickly stopping; it wasn't fair to judge this kid by someone I knew with the same name.
I scrolled down, skipping the quotes, and random lyrics that lengthened his about box, and clicked his comment box. My fingers moving over the keyboard quickly, kind of hoping to catch him while he was still online, I wrote up a lengthy, grateful thank you.
And I just couldn't help myself, I had to add quickly at the end that he was a bit off about the whole meaning of the poem.
With that, I went off to look for a good fanfic.
About three chapters in, I went to check my Mibba again, really happy to find that I had new profile comments. It was a nice thought, having a friend on Mibba. I was kind of antisocial, even on the internet, I usually just thanked people and moved on, but I was a bit eager about this one.
He had asked me about the poem, wanting a explanation and all that stuff. Which I was ungodly happy to give him. I was full of hot air when it came to my poetry; I could explain for hours if you let me. No one had ever really let me, though.
God forbid Kimmi take an interest in what I liked for ten seconds.
I glanced over my poem, "Copper is Greater than Gold" to recall the meaning, and giggled at Max's explanation. He made it all so complicated. But that's how I wanted it, to have a double meaning.
I replied simply;
"It's about a balloon."
And waited. Laughing quietly when he replied to me, saying that there was no way the poem was just about a balloon. I went on to explain the whole double meaning thing, and he seemed to understand, replying with a very intelligent response. I couldn't tell him level of interest, because it was the internet, but he seemed enthusiastic enough to make me proud of myself.
The conversation had bumped me up to 3:58am, but now I actually felt ready to let sleep take me.
And that's what I did, I shut down my computer after ending my conversation with him, and slipped into bed.
Sleep kindly took to my eyelids, and shut them tight for the night.