(Chapter 1) do you see what you have done to me (it's not my fault...)

Cake (or coke?)1

As your light finally goes out, and I hear your (relentless) snoring, I jump out of bed and turn on my light. Then I open my closet, and push aside all my (awful) clothing.2

In the very back, there is a cabinet that you don’t know about (that I never want you to find). I keep all of my clothes (fit to wear) in that cabinet. This is the time that I look forward too (when I get to wear clothes that I actually like).3

I pick out black Capri’s, a red (low-cut) shirt, a black jacket, black headband, black converse, and red knee-high socks. Then I part my hair on the side (where the red streaks are visible) and tie it back with the headband. 4

Then I coat my eyelashes with black mascara, then the tips with red, and smear on black eyeliner and red eye shadow (I always have been good at color-coordinating) and stuff some (of your) money in my pocket.5

I know you would hate everything about this outfit, from the red streaks to my black nails. (It’s perfect. I’m ready to go).6

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ 7

As I walk down the streets, you are in my thoughts (don’t worry, it’s nothing nice at all), but I am still wary of strangers. I have long since found the best (slash safest) route, even if it does take a little longer.8

When I arrive, I see that others have arrived at the same time (they have their tongues down the providers’ throats). I see my provider, and we share the customary greeting. (As I dislodge my mouth from his) I say in a low voice, “Good night, Master.” 9

“And it will be, if I am right in guessing that you want your customary order? It is the Special Night, is it not?” he purrs, because he knows I only come dressed like this on My Night.10

“Yes, Master. I have come to celebrate with my real family, as mine has forgotten yet again” I say, (holding back my dislike of you). It is harder than usual, but I manage to smile. I stuff some money into his pocket, and take my supplies (gratefully).11

Every time I inhale, I think of you, knowing you would disapprove. ‘That is probably the only reason that I am doing this,’ I think, but no matter. It is almost time.12

I pull out my watch, and everyone quiets down. I watch the numbers change from 11:59 to 12:00. (Hooray).13

“Happy Birthday to me,” I say, and everyone inhales at the same time. “Thank you, Master, but I must be going. The prison guard will be wondering where I have gone,” I say (chuckling at my joke).14

“Farewell” says my family in return. They are, after all, the only ones who remembered. And, as I stumble home, I am glad I got out of there in time (because smoke in my eyes is no excuse).15

~ ~ ~ ~ ~16

I fall into bed and don’t wake until morning. Then, I remember the last night and smile. (Those nights have become my favorite memories).17

I carefully undress, wash my face, and pick out random (hideous) clothes from the front of my closet. Then, I notice that they don’t match (or look good, but that is not the point), and change into matching clothes (that aren’t pink. I’m rewarding myself.) 18

As I come out of my room (freshly washed and no longer smoky) I see that you are still here. (A hopeful thought is pushed from my mind) and I sit down for breakfast.19

I stare at you for at least a minute before you look up from the depths of your coffee mug. “What the hell are you looking at?” you growl, and return to gazing. I continue staring.20

“What do you want?!”  You yell at me, now fully awake (and angered). I get up, grab my backpack (pink, of course) and walk out the door.21

I love annoying you in the morning. (I guess it’s my little birthday present to myself).22

~ ~ ~ ~ ~23

I get to school, and put on my “happy face”. (This is going to be a long day).24

I hang out with my “friends” and talk about nonsense. (Ohmygod, she’s going out with WHO? Ohmygod, he said WHAT??) until the bell rings. ‘Damn’ I think, but don’t let my smile slip.25

We rush into school (for some reason we don’t want to be late) and walk into our first class. I resist the urge to go in the back and sit with the other stoners' ; but then they see me (and understand that I can’t). They nod, I smile (imperceptibly), and I take my seat (in the very front.)26

In my mind, I glare at our hairy witch of a teacher, but aloud I chant with the rest of the class, “Good morning, Mrs. Hedgewire” (who on earth could marry her?!) like a good, mindless little zombie. (God, I hate Mondays.)27

As I (and the other mindless idiots) dredge through the day, we occupy ourselves with more nonsense, and I am the only one who doesn’t pay attention to every single word the teacher is saying (but I still get all my work done).28

When I have all my work done in math (Thank god, something that I somewhat like and actually understand) I start writing. It turns out to be a poem.29

When I write, I never really know what is going to come out (but at the end, I am always surprised). It seems to delve into parts of my soul that I never knew existed. I look at what is on the page.30

Wishes and weed31

As she makes a wish32

And blows33

A mascara-coated eyelash off her finger34

She sits35

And she puffs away36

Her dreams.37

As she buys38

Her only escapes39

From suspicious places and discarded clothing40

She only wishes41

That someone 42

Could hear her silent screams.43

She dreams of her life44

Excused scars and bruises45

She wishes someone would wake her, 46

And tell her47

It’s alright.48

As she takes her breaks49

From school50

To inhale and inject her calm51

She only wishes52

For no nightmares53

Tonight.54

I stare at it for a long, long time (wondering where it came from). Gradually, I get back into my friends’ conversation, but not without forgetting to put my smile back on.55

Before long, the bell rings, and I begin to put away all of my things. Then, I stare at the poem. “Hurry up!” my friends’ yell, desperate to rush off to our next class.56

I crumple up the paper (and on the way out the door, I throw it away).57

~ ~ ~ ~ ~58

Finally, the bell rings and the day is over (I try to look disappointed with the rest of my friends). We discuss how we are going to get home, and decide that we should get a start on our homework instead of hanging out like we usually do (finally things are starting to turn up).59

As I am walking out of school, I remember math class. I tell my friends to go on without me; I forgot something in science. “See you later, silly!” they call out. (‘Ugh. Hopefully not’ I think, but I smile and wave all the same).60

I decided on a whim to go back, but now I am having second thoughts. (What would happen if someone saw me)? However, my feet don’t seem to care about getting caught, and take me promptly to my math class. (Not that I really want to see it again).61

I look around and don’t see my teacher, and head straight for the trash can. As I am about to look inside, I hear someone call out (loudly), “Hey! What are you doing?”62

I turn around, startled, only to see the janitor. Before he can think twice about me, I rush to the front of school, and home (leaving him scratching his head in curiosity, as he looks in the aforementioned trash can).63

~ ~ ~ ~ ~64

I get home and you aren’t there (another present is received) and I go into your room. I steal some money (fool, you leave it out for the taking) and then go into my room and collapse on my bed.65

I get back up (I’m addicted to music too) and grab my portable c.d. player and my stereo. In my stereo, I insert a Jessica Simpson c.d. (loaded with preppy goodness) and play it on a medium level. (Just loud enough for the neighbors to hear). Then, in my portable c.d. player, I put in System of a Down.66

I put the headphones on, and turn up the music full blast, the way you hate. (Just loud enough for me to feel).67