What Can You Believe?
Spooky Bitch
"Hot lines under a rain of drum,
Cigarette props in action,
Dialogue dub, now heres the rub,
She's acting her reaction."
My mind drifted off to pointless wondering as the voice of Peter Murphy seemed to surround my consciousness, my eyes fixated on the blank ceiling as if it were the most interesting thing in the world. I hadn't slept a wink, and I'd be lucky if I did anytime this week without the use of prescribed medication.
By the time one or two more sleep deprived day—or maybe night? Morning?—dreams passed I began to hear the faint sound of shuffling from downstairs, and soon after the smell of coffee wafted up through the house. I assumed it was probably either my dad or Paul, my dad's partner, so I decided I should go down and swipe a cup of joe before I was left nothing but a cup of the nasty, gritty, sludge at the bottom. I swung my bare legs over the side of my bed and searched in the dark for a pair of pants, not yet wanting to turn the lights on. Eventually I found a pair of tattered jeans on the floor and managed to get them on without tripping on some discarded item that'd probably been tossed on the floor.
I felt around on my nightstand for my half empty pack of smokes and a lighter, and as soon as I had them I was off.
In the kitchen I found Paul slouched against the counter, obviously still half asleep and waiting for the coffee to finish brewing. His head jerked up as I swung open the cabinet to fetch a mug, and for a moment I thought he was going to topple over in a sleep ridden heap on the wood floor.
"Aye get your greedy paws away from my coffee, I made it so I get the first cup!" The disheveled man swatted my hand away semi-playfully when I tried to grab the pot, snatching in from the machine with great haste.
"Jeez fine, I'll wait!" It's no lie to say that man is a beast when he's deprived of caffeine, but then again so is everyone else in this house. Eventually I was able to fill my cup and I made my way to the front porch, sitting on the railing and lighting up a cigarette. I watched tentatively as many passerby went about their mornings, doing typical things like jogging or walking their dog, all things too mundane to hold my interest. Nonetheless I continued to puff on my cigarette, occasionally blowing smoke out of my nostrils with a tired sigh.
As I noticed the morning sun becoming brighter and brighter I decided it'd be best if I went up stairs and got dressed for my first day at Belleville High. I'd be lying if I said I'd make an effort to look presentable, but luckily I knew I wasn't. I had no motive and no reason to even try and look presentable as this was only high school and in the long run what I wore wouldn't matter.
I decided to just keep on the ratty black flag shirt that I'd been wearing and cover it up with an even worse off flannel that very clearly had bleach stains on it and was riddled with holes. I tucked my t-shirt into the high waistband of a pair of loose fitting black jeans that I'd found in my mom's closet a long time ago. With the cuffs rolled up and a black belt with a large silver buckle the jeans were almost fashionable in their own way. Hell, even if they werent that fashionable it's 1998 nobody cares about fashion anyway.
With one glance at my reflection anyone could tell that I hadn't brushed my shoulder length, blonde hair in almost two weeks. Of course I've washed it, but due to the neglect of a brush it was matted and pieces stuck up every which way. I swiped it out of my eyes and ran my fingers through it in an attempt to tame it, but in the end I just left it how it was. I almost laughed at my reflection, seeing the purple-red rings around my eyes, so dark they could almost be mistaken for makeup, but in the end it was all due to a severe lack of sleep.
"Beautiful," I huffed.
Obnoxiously loud voices filled the hallway as I tried to make my way towards my indicated first period class, but everyone seemed to moving at the slowest possible pace. What is it with teenagers and not knowing how to fucking walk? As I forcefully shove myself past a group of freshman congregating in the middle of the hall I notice a beefy blonde boy in a letterman jacket knock over a smaller kid, sending him and his stuff sprawling across the floor. I picked up my pace and stopped the culprit as he was about to walk away without apology or regret.
"Hey asshole! Why don't you watch where you're going next time you lumber through the fucking hallway!?" I push his shoulder forcefully to get his attention as he would not respond to my words. Almost immediately he turned, scowling down at me in an attempt at intimidation.
"Beat it, Spooky Bitch," he sneered.
"Um, how bout no? How about you help him the fuck up and apologize for your behavior you neanderthal!" Despite him having a good foot or so on me, I held my ground with my brows furrowed and fists clenched. Instead of doing as I'd asked he elects to scoff and walk off, leaving me radiating with annoyance in the middle of the hall, all eyes on me.
"Pussy!" I huff, turning to help the other kid pick his things up off the floor. He was about the same height as me with short black hair and a lip ring, and was proudly sporting a misfits shirt. I offered him a smile as I handed him the last of his papers, and he warmly returned it.
"Hey man i'm sorry he did that to you, what a dickhead am I right?"
"Yeah he is, and thanks. His names Cody and that's honestly not the first time he's done that. What an asshole," The boy shoves the rest of his stuff into his locker haphazardly before turning to me and offering a hand, to which I gladly accepted.
"Nice shirt, I'm Frank." He grinned, obviously not disheartened by what had just occurred.
"Thanks, your's too. I'm Stevie," I smiled in return, happy to be possibly making a friend already. It means I might not have to sit alone at lunch.
"So, you new here? I've never seen you around," He closed his locker and turned to face me once more with curious eyes, motnioning for me to hand him my schedule. He chewed lightly on his lip ring as he read it, smiling excitedly every once in a while.
"Uh yeah, just moved here actually. Well not JUST moved but like a few months ago, yeah." I answered, stuttering awkwardly as I waited for him to hand the paper over again. I didn't have to wait long as he looked up with smirk, placing the sheet back in my hands.
"That's cool! Where from? Anywhere far?"
"Dallas. I guess you could say that's pretty far."
"Yeah a bit! Anyway, luckily for you, newbie, you've got English first with me, and Music sixth also with me!" He wrapped an arm around my shoulders in a friendly manner and began leading me in what I presumed was the direction of our class. As we walked he began animatedly asking me questions about my favorite Black Flag song, and was firing off inquiries so fast I could harldy keep up. It felt like an interrogation.
Did I just make a friend in under ten minutes?
Cigarette props in action,
Dialogue dub, now heres the rub,
She's acting her reaction."
My mind drifted off to pointless wondering as the voice of Peter Murphy seemed to surround my consciousness, my eyes fixated on the blank ceiling as if it were the most interesting thing in the world. I hadn't slept a wink, and I'd be lucky if I did anytime this week without the use of prescribed medication.
By the time one or two more sleep deprived day—or maybe night? Morning?—dreams passed I began to hear the faint sound of shuffling from downstairs, and soon after the smell of coffee wafted up through the house. I assumed it was probably either my dad or Paul, my dad's partner, so I decided I should go down and swipe a cup of joe before I was left nothing but a cup of the nasty, gritty, sludge at the bottom. I swung my bare legs over the side of my bed and searched in the dark for a pair of pants, not yet wanting to turn the lights on. Eventually I found a pair of tattered jeans on the floor and managed to get them on without tripping on some discarded item that'd probably been tossed on the floor.
I felt around on my nightstand for my half empty pack of smokes and a lighter, and as soon as I had them I was off.
In the kitchen I found Paul slouched against the counter, obviously still half asleep and waiting for the coffee to finish brewing. His head jerked up as I swung open the cabinet to fetch a mug, and for a moment I thought he was going to topple over in a sleep ridden heap on the wood floor.
"Aye get your greedy paws away from my coffee, I made it so I get the first cup!" The disheveled man swatted my hand away semi-playfully when I tried to grab the pot, snatching in from the machine with great haste.
"Jeez fine, I'll wait!" It's no lie to say that man is a beast when he's deprived of caffeine, but then again so is everyone else in this house. Eventually I was able to fill my cup and I made my way to the front porch, sitting on the railing and lighting up a cigarette. I watched tentatively as many passerby went about their mornings, doing typical things like jogging or walking their dog, all things too mundane to hold my interest. Nonetheless I continued to puff on my cigarette, occasionally blowing smoke out of my nostrils with a tired sigh.
As I noticed the morning sun becoming brighter and brighter I decided it'd be best if I went up stairs and got dressed for my first day at Belleville High. I'd be lying if I said I'd make an effort to look presentable, but luckily I knew I wasn't. I had no motive and no reason to even try and look presentable as this was only high school and in the long run what I wore wouldn't matter.
I decided to just keep on the ratty black flag shirt that I'd been wearing and cover it up with an even worse off flannel that very clearly had bleach stains on it and was riddled with holes. I tucked my t-shirt into the high waistband of a pair of loose fitting black jeans that I'd found in my mom's closet a long time ago. With the cuffs rolled up and a black belt with a large silver buckle the jeans were almost fashionable in their own way. Hell, even if they werent that fashionable it's 1998 nobody cares about fashion anyway.
With one glance at my reflection anyone could tell that I hadn't brushed my shoulder length, blonde hair in almost two weeks. Of course I've washed it, but due to the neglect of a brush it was matted and pieces stuck up every which way. I swiped it out of my eyes and ran my fingers through it in an attempt to tame it, but in the end I just left it how it was. I almost laughed at my reflection, seeing the purple-red rings around my eyes, so dark they could almost be mistaken for makeup, but in the end it was all due to a severe lack of sleep.
"Beautiful," I huffed.
Obnoxiously loud voices filled the hallway as I tried to make my way towards my indicated first period class, but everyone seemed to moving at the slowest possible pace. What is it with teenagers and not knowing how to fucking walk? As I forcefully shove myself past a group of freshman congregating in the middle of the hall I notice a beefy blonde boy in a letterman jacket knock over a smaller kid, sending him and his stuff sprawling across the floor. I picked up my pace and stopped the culprit as he was about to walk away without apology or regret.
"Hey asshole! Why don't you watch where you're going next time you lumber through the fucking hallway!?" I push his shoulder forcefully to get his attention as he would not respond to my words. Almost immediately he turned, scowling down at me in an attempt at intimidation.
"Beat it, Spooky Bitch," he sneered.
"Um, how bout no? How about you help him the fuck up and apologize for your behavior you neanderthal!" Despite him having a good foot or so on me, I held my ground with my brows furrowed and fists clenched. Instead of doing as I'd asked he elects to scoff and walk off, leaving me radiating with annoyance in the middle of the hall, all eyes on me.
"Pussy!" I huff, turning to help the other kid pick his things up off the floor. He was about the same height as me with short black hair and a lip ring, and was proudly sporting a misfits shirt. I offered him a smile as I handed him the last of his papers, and he warmly returned it.
"Hey man i'm sorry he did that to you, what a dickhead am I right?"
"Yeah he is, and thanks. His names Cody and that's honestly not the first time he's done that. What an asshole," The boy shoves the rest of his stuff into his locker haphazardly before turning to me and offering a hand, to which I gladly accepted.
"Nice shirt, I'm Frank." He grinned, obviously not disheartened by what had just occurred.
"Thanks, your's too. I'm Stevie," I smiled in return, happy to be possibly making a friend already. It means I might not have to sit alone at lunch.
"So, you new here? I've never seen you around," He closed his locker and turned to face me once more with curious eyes, motnioning for me to hand him my schedule. He chewed lightly on his lip ring as he read it, smiling excitedly every once in a while.
"Uh yeah, just moved here actually. Well not JUST moved but like a few months ago, yeah." I answered, stuttering awkwardly as I waited for him to hand the paper over again. I didn't have to wait long as he looked up with smirk, placing the sheet back in my hands.
"That's cool! Where from? Anywhere far?"
"Dallas. I guess you could say that's pretty far."
"Yeah a bit! Anyway, luckily for you, newbie, you've got English first with me, and Music sixth also with me!" He wrapped an arm around my shoulders in a friendly manner and began leading me in what I presumed was the direction of our class. As we walked he began animatedly asking me questions about my favorite Black Flag song, and was firing off inquiries so fast I could harldy keep up. It felt like an interrogation.
Did I just make a friend in under ten minutes?
Notes
Hey guys hope you liked the first chapter, sorry it's kinda short, but I promise the next chapter will be longer and more familiar faces will be introduced! Apologies for any typing or grammatical errors, I'll try to go back and fix them tomorrow when I write the next chapter! Enjoy! x
-lizardperson
Oooh, i like this :)
10/24/16