Changing for the Best Reasons
Chapter 1
I hopped on the bus and waited for my morning greeting.
"Morning, Emo!" everyone called in a patronizing tone. Maybe I wouldn't be an emo if any you gave me a chance, you fuckers, I thought. I sat down, pulled out my drawing book and turned to my last entry. It was a very detailed, black and white sketch of a girl with long, shiny, black hair and holding a bloodstained knife. 'The Monster Within', it was labeled.
I looked around. There was no one on the bus I could or wanted to talk to, show my pictures or even just look at with a feeling that they made me happy. I used to be happy, long ago, before my dad died. I used to be a bright, happy, friend-filled 12-year old, whose ambition was to be a doctor. Now I was a dull, dark, friendless 15-year old whose ambition is a small job in the comic industry, drawing dark animations and putting them in their own world in comic books. I was just starting to sketch the hair of a little shoulder demon, when something hit me in the back of the head. I turned around. Lodged between the seat and my back was a scrunched piece of paper.
"Open it!" called a random guy from down the back of the bus. I turned around and saw that some gut with redd hair and lots of freckles was winking at me. I gave him a sly look, then turned back to the scrunched up ball in my hand I slowly unravled the ball of paper, scared of what the message might be. And there was the message, written clearly in black texta. 'Doin' anythin' tonite?' it read. I ripped it up and threw it out the opened window. It flew behind the bus as we travelled.
"Hey!" called the bus driver. "Don't let me see you do that again, Tara!" he yelled. I rolled my eyes. I wasn't up to anyone ordering me around, though it WAS wrong. I settled down into my seat and clutched my book close to my chest.
"This is my only real connection of escape," I whispered to myself, wrapping my long, black-colored-nailed fingers tighter around the book. I opened the book again and browsed through. My favorite picture was a girl in a big, black, leather jacketwith giant, black, shredded wings out the back. Her face was hidden by her gair which folded neatly over her face. Her hands were relaxed by her side, as her background was a burning city. I tried to use the idea of the city in the Black Parade music clip by My Chemical Romance, but it wasn't half as good as the one in the clip, or poster.
I slipped the sketch book back into my bag and zipped it up. I lay my head on the window which was hard against my head. I quickly sat back up and pulled the i-pod out of my pocket. I plugged the speakers into my ears and started to cycle thorugh my collection of Gothic, emo, punk, rock, death metal, and the rest of the types of music that varied. I put on Linkin Park and listened to Faint. I smiled as soon as the song started. This was just one out of three songs that made me feel good to be alive.
***
If you send me any comments, can you please add what you think might make this story sound better-thanks!
"Morning, Emo!" everyone called in a patronizing tone. Maybe I wouldn't be an emo if any you gave me a chance, you fuckers, I thought. I sat down, pulled out my drawing book and turned to my last entry. It was a very detailed, black and white sketch of a girl with long, shiny, black hair and holding a bloodstained knife. 'The Monster Within', it was labeled.
I looked around. There was no one on the bus I could or wanted to talk to, show my pictures or even just look at with a feeling that they made me happy. I used to be happy, long ago, before my dad died. I used to be a bright, happy, friend-filled 12-year old, whose ambition was to be a doctor. Now I was a dull, dark, friendless 15-year old whose ambition is a small job in the comic industry, drawing dark animations and putting them in their own world in comic books. I was just starting to sketch the hair of a little shoulder demon, when something hit me in the back of the head. I turned around. Lodged between the seat and my back was a scrunched piece of paper.
"Open it!" called a random guy from down the back of the bus. I turned around and saw that some gut with redd hair and lots of freckles was winking at me. I gave him a sly look, then turned back to the scrunched up ball in my hand I slowly unravled the ball of paper, scared of what the message might be. And there was the message, written clearly in black texta. 'Doin' anythin' tonite?' it read. I ripped it up and threw it out the opened window. It flew behind the bus as we travelled.
"Hey!" called the bus driver. "Don't let me see you do that again, Tara!" he yelled. I rolled my eyes. I wasn't up to anyone ordering me around, though it WAS wrong. I settled down into my seat and clutched my book close to my chest.
"This is my only real connection of escape," I whispered to myself, wrapping my long, black-colored-nailed fingers tighter around the book. I opened the book again and browsed through. My favorite picture was a girl in a big, black, leather jacketwith giant, black, shredded wings out the back. Her face was hidden by her gair which folded neatly over her face. Her hands were relaxed by her side, as her background was a burning city. I tried to use the idea of the city in the Black Parade music clip by My Chemical Romance, but it wasn't half as good as the one in the clip, or poster.
I slipped the sketch book back into my bag and zipped it up. I lay my head on the window which was hard against my head. I quickly sat back up and pulled the i-pod out of my pocket. I plugged the speakers into my ears and started to cycle thorugh my collection of Gothic, emo, punk, rock, death metal, and the rest of the types of music that varied. I put on Linkin Park and listened to Faint. I smiled as soon as the song started. This was just one out of three songs that made me feel good to be alive.
***
If you send me any comments, can you please add what you think might make this story sound better-thanks!