“I Hate You,” I spat, my voice filled with venom that burned his heart the very second it touched his ears. He reached out, but it was too late, I had gone, stalking off to my wide clique of close friends waiting for me.
At least, that how it was supposed to happen.
“I hate you,” I lied in a mumble, my voice trailing away thanks to the lack of crushing retort. He grinned at me, his face smug in a way I didn’t understand, his eyes that I thought would only ever show kindness suddenly brimming with… something else.
I flushed red and turned around, walked three paces and realised I was going the wrong way. Going somehow even redder, I turned around and walked straight back past him. Then I thought, I was not going the wrong way, because I’m not going anywhere in particular. I have nowhere to go to. I carried on regardless, and ended up waiting for next lesson in the cold, even though I still had about 10 minutes. I sanitised my hands a few times, and shivered a lot. It was nice. I didn’t cry. I finished the Electron Shell Arrangements when the teacher let us in.
I like science. It’s my favourite, after English. In school. Obviously, college beats school. I’m going to be a vet. I don’t think I’ve ever mentioned that before. You have to train longer to be a vet than a doctor, because animals can’t talk to tell you what’s wrong. But I think that is a definite good thing, not a disadvantage. Animals are so much easier than people. Better, too. Nicer, generally.
I hate lunchtime now. I’d rather just keep working without a break. They’re very hard to deal with. Then we could finish school at 2:00ish instead. That would be cool. ‘Cause school’s not always all that great to be honest with you. I did love it, but it’s not really was it was before. In fact, it sort of sucks. A lot of stuff does though, doesn’t it?
I’m not the only one who notices this, feels this way? Am I?
Sometimes I like to pretend I’m insane, but then I have to stop, because I scare myself by thinking, ‘What if this is real? How do you know when you’re insane?’ and it becomes very hard to distinguish between reality and truth. And then I realise I was just pretending, remember?, and I’m a boring average mentally sound person. Then I wish that I was insane, then I realise that was a stupid thing to wish.
Then I usually fall asleep, and if it’s a good night it’s my forest and my pack, but if I forget that I’m not really insane it’s a nightmare. And occasionally, if I’m fortunate, when I wake up I can’t remember the dream.
Thanks Heavens for My Chemical Romance. I think that I owe them more than they’ll ever know.
), many people seemed to object to my wearing it. And, to express their disgust, they used the original, truthful and imaginative insult of shouting ‘FXXXING EMO!’ at me and giving me filthy looks (insinuating ‘go slit your wrists and die, dirty scum’, and doing this unashamedly) as I walked down corridors and went about my own business. And, rather than retaliate in the way they would like by a) crying and getting upset, b) swearing and getting violent, c) staring at them solemnly then self harming, or d) giving up and telling them I was sorry and it wouldn’t happen again, I simply laughed at them and asked them loudly if they had an observation to make, and if so would they state it? followed by shooting down their petty and pitiful statements of my emo-ness. (Explain exactly what an emo is? And am I that? And what are you? And actually, I don’t care what you think.) 
