Baby, You're So Gone.

"Get away from me!" I shrieked, backing up against the wall of my bedroom.

My shriek took my mother by surprise and it was all it took for me to push past her and her boyfriend for the week. I took the stairs two at a time, doing everything I can to just run out of the house. I was hell bent on running away from this--this mess my life had become.

The door slammed against my hands and I turned the knob with fumbling hands. I ran through the dark streets, knowing that I probably looked like a lunatic to the people watching. But right there and then, I didn't care. I just wanted to get away.

I ran to a familiar place; the 24 hour diner where I had become a regular. My nights were usually sleepless, so instead of staying at my hell hole, I went over here, where it was calm and relaxing.

The diner itself was small with neon pink signs outside of it, and inside, vintage looking booths surrounded you. There was a counter too, where you could order their famous milkshakes. Or you could hang out by the jukebox, where I'm sure, when they were in style, was were the cool kids hung out.

I sat down at a booth, cold tears streaming down my face. I wiped the tears immediately and sniffed, hoping my eyes weren't too red. As soon as I settled against the booth and stared up at the bland ceiling, a waitress was at my table, pen and paper in hand.

She smiled weakly at me, and I read her name tag to be 'Paula'. "Rough night again, sweetheart?" she asked.

I nodded and brushed my bangs out of my eyes. "I swear, my Mom has got nothing in that brain of hers."

Paula chuckled and rolled her eyes. "Sometimes, adults have a harder time getting off their high horse."

"Well, my parental is taking a hell of a long time." I muttered. "It's been two years, Paula."

"I know, honey, but you have to stick it out." she put a hand on my shoulder and sighed.

I nodded. "Okay. Can I have the usual?"

"Blueberry pie and a strawberry shake?" Paula grinned at me.

I chuckled. "I don't even know why you ask."

She walked back to the counter and shouted the order to the cook. "Because someday, sweetie, you'll change."

I rolled my eyes. Changing? Impossible. Okay, maybe not impossible, but difficult. People don't change. They can change, they just don't.

I could've sworn I heard her say something else after that, something that sounded a bit like, "It's just a matter of time."

Before I had any time to really chew it over, the door burst open and the chiming bell sounded; signaling that somebody had entered. As soon as I looked at the four guys, I knew they weren't from around here. I mean seriously, what would those guys be doing in little Mableton, Georgia; a small town outside of Atlanta.

They were all tall--I noticed that first. Then, I noticed the skinny jeans, and the v-neck and the flannel shirts. The one that stood out, though, was the one in the middle--with the bright orange hair. Never in my life had I seen such a peculiar shade of hair color, it really set the curiosity burning in me.

He looked my way for a second, only a brief second, but it was enough. There was something about him, something mysterious and intriguing that made me keep staring. Paula walked up to me, a plate and a shake in hand.

She set it on the table, eyeing the new comers just like I was. Paula pursed her lips, obviously disliking them.

"Who are they?" I whispered to her, my eyes never leaving the group.

"I don't know, honey," she put her hands on her hips, disapproval radiating off of her small 5'4 frame. "But I know one thing..."

I looked up at her then, curious. I watched her petite face, lined with the signs of old age. Her black hair was now more of a salt-n-pepper and her gray eyes had lost their spark.

"They look like nothing but trouble."