Frank:
I started running through the grass. I couldn't let them catch me again, not after what happened last time. I could hear them, running for me, laughing at me, taunting me. I couldn't bear it any longer. I felt my legs give out from underneath me, then, I could feel it happening.

The kicking, the punching, the clawing, as if they were trying to see what was underneath my skin. They already knew. A weak, scared, little boy was right in front of them, just letting them beat him. It happens like this a lot. Every time I try to escape, they just pull me back in and hurt me. I never win, I never have and never will. I cannot escape this wretched Hell.

I wake up from my nightmare. That was the third time this month. I promised my mother that if it happened again I would tell her. That was what I said last time, that I would tell her. I never tell her, she should know this by now. She knows that I don't want to have to take pills to keep my nightmares away, yet she still tells me that she wants me to get help. I love my mother, I really do, but some things are better off undisturbed. I have to be able to escape my past, it's what people do, right?

I get out of my bed and go to my small bathroom. I look in the mirror and wince. I look like utter shit today. I always look like shit though, it's the lack of sleep causing this, well, most of the time, anyways. I splash some cold water on my face and try to make myself look a little better. I notice that the clock says 4:17, almost two full hours until I have to actually get up. I decide against going back to sleep and take a shower instead.

While I'm in the shower, I think about what I'm going to wear today. Maybe I'll wear The Misfits, maybe Black Flag, or Anthrax. I choose Black Flag, seeing as it is my favorite band. I easily decide on black ripped skinny jeans seeing as that is all I have most of the time, and my old worn pair of Vans that I've had since I was fifteen. Two years and they're still in perfect, well, not perfect, condition.

I hop out of the now-cold shower and throw on my outfit for the day, deciding to skip brushing my hair but then grab the damn brush seeing as I always comb my hair, even though by the time the late bell rings, it's usually messed up again. I put a thin line of black eyeliner under each of my eyes to make me look like I didn't just wake up and I grab my bag, heading downstairs for my breakfast.

I don't usually get time to eat, but I'm up really early so I think, what the hell? I grab some eggs from the fridge and I make myself a breakfast burrito, pouring a cup of hot coffee while I'm at it. When I finish eating, I see that it is now 6:37, and quickly grab my bag from it's resting place, and I head out of my house for my first day of school, hoping to God it goes better than my last putrid Hell.

Notes

Hello my lovelies! (That's the permanent name for this particular group of lovelies, seeing as that is what you are.)

Yes, I am back, happy, and ready to kick some ass. (Not really, I would get dropped.)
But alas, I am still back! I feel a lot better after taking that long ass hiatus, even though it hurt me mentally to be away for so long. I have brought you gifts. The first is the first chapter of this story, seeing as I restarted it entirely with a new storyline and everything.

The second? Well, the second one is my promise to you.

I promise to:

1. Be a better author.
2. Carefully plan and write out each chapter of each story I write.
3. Check each planned chapter before posting it.
4. Write on a schedule, mainly each Friday night, if possible.
5. If four is not possible, write the next possible night/day.
6. Write only one story at a time, seeing as I rush more when I write more than one story.
7. Leave school drama at school, home drama, which I barely have anymore, at home, and internet drama on the internet, unless I can weave it into the story to make it better.
8. Ignore the last part of number seven, all bullshit I go through stays off of my stories unless it absolutely is required in them.
9. Answer all questions and comments given to me by my readers. (Lovelies.)
10. Vent out my emotions into my journal.
11. Hide said journal so no one can read it or look at my sketches.
12. LOVE MY LOVELIES! *Hugs all of you in an awkward position.*

If I do not accomplish all of these each time, you may feel free to virtually slap me. I love you all, and you have all helped me so many times before, so thank you.

These Sweet Horrors And Terrible Nightmares Have Been Brought To You By:
The Refreshed And Happier,
Screaming Tears
XOXO
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