We're In Love Because We're Punk
Cuz I'm Punk.
The alarm clock was buzzing. Buzz. Buzz. Buzz. Crash. Stupid fucking alarm! Some people might be surprised that a fairly nice looking girl, with long brown hair (dyed black, cuz I'm punk) and blue eyes (rimmed with enough eyeliner to make me look like a raccoon, cuz I'm punk) would curse, but I do. I curse a lot. I don't curse because I like it, but its my nature, because I'm punk. Now...what was I talking about again? Oh thats right.
I broke my alarm clock. I like to break things because I'm punk. Also, I was very pissed off today, because it was my first day of school in a new town. Normally, a punk such as myself would be very excited about the prospects of a new school where I can start over and no one will bully me cuz I'm punk. But I am not a normal punk. I am uber punk, so naturally, I hate school, education, and things that are good for me.
I trudged over to my closet, and opened the black door. I had it painted black cuz I'm punk. Inside was my collection of all black clothing. All of my clothing is black because I'm punk. I picked out black Def Leppard sweatshirt (whom I listen to because I'm punk) and a pair of baggy black pants that hide the fact that I am in fact a human and not a giant blob of clothing. But I am obligated to wear them because I am a punk. Oh yeah, did I mention that my name is Carly?
"Carly!" my mother called. "Come down and get some breakfast dear!" My friends (that don't exist cuz I'm punk) would be shocked by my mother's cruel tone. But my parents abuse me, hence I am punk. My parents are so cruel. Sometimes, they even make me clean my room! Once, my dad came home from work early to spend time with my mom and told me to do my homework! How heinous is that?
But, being an uber punk, I am very tough and I suck it all up. I took some more insults from my mother (She called me "hon" and even said "Have a nice day at school, my little girl") I went to school. Don't ask me how I got there even though its a new school I've never been to. One way or another, I got to school. The 'nice' lady at the front door directed me to the office. I threw her a dirty look and flipped her off because I'm punk. I walked into the principal's office with a huge scowl on my face and 100% attitude bizotch! Coz I'm ghetto like dat, ya down wit dat homeslice? Um...oops, I mean, I'm punk...yeah... on with the story.
So, after a brief argument with the principal (I have to argue with authority, cuz I'm punk) I went to my classroom, still scowling and being punk. My teacher gave me a nasty look, as though he has a problem with my self-expression through black material.
I sat down and looked next to me. I saw a skinny boy writing random shit in his notebook. He looked up and looked at me with the greenest eyes I'd ever seen. He also had black hair. Was he who I thought I was?
Even though I was punk, I choked up on my words..."I know you." I said.
He smirked. "Do you? That's odd."
"Odd?!" I exclaimed. "How can it be odd! You're a total legend!"
"I am? Then tell me...who am I?" he asked.
I choked again. "You-you're Ha-Harry Potter!"
I broke my alarm clock. I like to break things because I'm punk. Also, I was very pissed off today, because it was my first day of school in a new town. Normally, a punk such as myself would be very excited about the prospects of a new school where I can start over and no one will bully me cuz I'm punk. But I am not a normal punk. I am uber punk, so naturally, I hate school, education, and things that are good for me.
I trudged over to my closet, and opened the black door. I had it painted black cuz I'm punk. Inside was my collection of all black clothing. All of my clothing is black because I'm punk. I picked out black Def Leppard sweatshirt (whom I listen to because I'm punk) and a pair of baggy black pants that hide the fact that I am in fact a human and not a giant blob of clothing. But I am obligated to wear them because I am a punk. Oh yeah, did I mention that my name is Carly?
"Carly!" my mother called. "Come down and get some breakfast dear!" My friends (that don't exist cuz I'm punk) would be shocked by my mother's cruel tone. But my parents abuse me, hence I am punk. My parents are so cruel. Sometimes, they even make me clean my room! Once, my dad came home from work early to spend time with my mom and told me to do my homework! How heinous is that?
But, being an uber punk, I am very tough and I suck it all up. I took some more insults from my mother (She called me "hon" and even said "Have a nice day at school, my little girl") I went to school. Don't ask me how I got there even though its a new school I've never been to. One way or another, I got to school. The 'nice' lady at the front door directed me to the office. I threw her a dirty look and flipped her off because I'm punk. I walked into the principal's office with a huge scowl on my face and 100% attitude bizotch! Coz I'm ghetto like dat, ya down wit dat homeslice? Um...oops, I mean, I'm punk...yeah... on with the story.
So, after a brief argument with the principal (I have to argue with authority, cuz I'm punk) I went to my classroom, still scowling and being punk. My teacher gave me a nasty look, as though he has a problem with my self-expression through black material.
I sat down and looked next to me. I saw a skinny boy writing random shit in his notebook. He looked up and looked at me with the greenest eyes I'd ever seen. He also had black hair. Was he who I thought I was?
Even though I was punk, I choked up on my words..."I know you." I said.
He smirked. "Do you? That's odd."
"Odd?!" I exclaimed. "How can it be odd! You're a total legend!"
"I am? Then tell me...who am I?" he asked.
I choked again. "You-you're Ha-Harry Potter!"