A/Ns: I have no idea why I'm writing this kind of story, but I get
the feeling from Ingrid that she could be capable of doing this sort of
thing, so damn cliché. So I apologize if this is bad and if you are
offended.
The Blood That Drips
It'd be what? A year since Ingrid had landed into the arms of Middle School X and the safety problem. Life had been way different for her, a little bit maybe like the idea of actually having friends. The only similar thing that Ingrid every felt was the loneliness and the hurt she felt when people passed her in the halls because she was different. Everyone was bright; sunny cheerful, not many had worn black. Ingrid was a genius, who liked to keep it to her because it was much easier to get through life that way. The one thing Ingrid kept to herself, she didn't tell anyone. It was not the smarts or the brains. It was something much deeper, much more emotional. No one on the Safety Patrol knew, even Fillmore. It started in grade 6, when no one ever spoke to her, only for help on school work or to point out how weird she looked. Ingrid still wore the black dress with the combat boots, it was her trademark. Back then in grade 6 nothing was going right, her Father was always busy with work, and her sister had turned into a teenager, no longer wanted the partnership of Ingrid. Alone, abandon dejected Ingrid started the habit, hiding her arms from the rest of the world who did not seem to look back or blink an eye when she passed them. Ingrid was just a face in the crowd.
Yet, why did she feel this way now? The same old feelings returning as she entered the Safety Patrol office one day, the urge came back but since there wasn't anything that sharp insight and the prying eyes of the patrollers were around, Ingrid had to ignore it which was difficult. Ingrid had spend the rest of the day mind numbing doing deskwork yet not consenting on what was around her but simply what was juggling in her mind. Why had the passed feelings suddenly come back up to her? Why did she suddenly feel like making her flesh tear and bleed by her own will? Ingrid didn't know, but choose once again to remain it secrete. Even though the day before school had started for her at X Middle School had she decided to kick the habit and not do it anymore since it wasn't necessary, but was it really? Fillmore had been the greatest friend of her life, so why did she feel so lonely.
The Blood That Drips
It'd be what? A year since Ingrid had landed into the arms of Middle School X and the safety problem. Life had been way different for her, a little bit maybe like the idea of actually having friends. The only similar thing that Ingrid every felt was the loneliness and the hurt she felt when people passed her in the halls because she was different. Everyone was bright; sunny cheerful, not many had worn black. Ingrid was a genius, who liked to keep it to her because it was much easier to get through life that way. The one thing Ingrid kept to herself, she didn't tell anyone. It was not the smarts or the brains. It was something much deeper, much more emotional. No one on the Safety Patrol knew, even Fillmore. It started in grade 6, when no one ever spoke to her, only for help on school work or to point out how weird she looked. Ingrid still wore the black dress with the combat boots, it was her trademark. Back then in grade 6 nothing was going right, her Father was always busy with work, and her sister had turned into a teenager, no longer wanted the partnership of Ingrid. Alone, abandon dejected Ingrid started the habit, hiding her arms from the rest of the world who did not seem to look back or blink an eye when she passed them. Ingrid was just a face in the crowd.
Yet, why did she feel this way now? The same old feelings returning as she entered the Safety Patrol office one day, the urge came back but since there wasn't anything that sharp insight and the prying eyes of the patrollers were around, Ingrid had to ignore it which was difficult. Ingrid had spend the rest of the day mind numbing doing deskwork yet not consenting on what was around her but simply what was juggling in her mind. Why had the passed feelings suddenly come back up to her? Why did she suddenly feel like making her flesh tear and bleed by her own will? Ingrid didn't know, but choose once again to remain it secrete. Even though the day before school had started for her at X Middle School had she decided to kick the habit and not do it anymore since it wasn't necessary, but was it really? Fillmore had been the greatest friend of her life, so why did she feel so lonely.