THE DARKER DAYS

PART I

[Mona was never A here]

The darker days were when she would sit by the fireplace, smoking her weed until she felt like passing out. Her mother wasn't home, anyways. Hell, her mother was never home. She remembered that only a few years ago, she was one of those girls who talked about how bad drugs were, and how she would never do them, but there she was, doing exactly what she said she would never do. And she had been hurt by a lot of people over that time, but she could only think of one person to really blame for the way she was, and that was Alison DiLaurentis with her angelically devilish smile.

'Loser Mona, Loser Mona, let's ignore her so she'll go away—oh excuse me, I didn't mean she, I meant it!' And for some reason, her posse would go wild with laughter and grins, not even saying a word, even though they all knew what she did and said made her the definition of a bitch in the dictionary. She wasn't the same 'Loser Mona' anymore, but when people spoke to her, it was almost like she expected them to call her that.

What would she have given to be like Alison DiLaurentis? That girl was perfect, and no boy would ever refuse her. She could have anything or anyone she wanted! But Loser Mona always had to settle for the worst. She couldn't manipulate everybody into doing what she needed. Mona only dreamed of having that kind of power at the time.

Then Alison died, and the spot opened up. Queen Bitch was available for her to play, and that's what she did. She smoked, she did drugs, she wore slutty clothes, she didn't give two shits about anybody that called her a whore, and she practically controlled everyone she wanted to. But looking in the mirror, she knew that wasn't who she wanted to be. She couldn't see her innocence anymore, but she wanted it back. Alison had stolen it from her.

xXx

There was a time where he would have settled for being called a loser. He would have settled for being called 'hermie' by Alison DiLaurentis and her posse, but it wasn't like that anymore. He didn't take that kind of bull. He thought he was stronger, but he felt weaker. He hated the person he had become, yet he loved it, too.

He chewed on the cigarette hanging from his mouth as he adjusted his leather jacket. That's right, Lucas Gottesman was wearing a leather jacket. In fact, he was wearing black kicks and had his hair jelled up like it was nobody's business. Some people couldn't even recognize him as the same guy that he was when Alison DiLaurentis still ran things.

People actually respected him for once, and he loved that. He loved being feared by some people, and he loved actually being treated as a human being. However, when he looked in the mirror, he didn't even respect himself. That wasn't the guy he wanted to be. He didn't want to be the druggie drunkard with the cigarette hanging from his mouth, but that was exactly what it looked like when he looked at himself, and it was probably why many feared him.

Looking at himself in the mirror, he didn't respect himself. He didn't see his old happy self who would be studying or perfecting the art of photography. While he wasn't happy when Alison ran him, he certainly wasn't completely happy being whatever he was now. He missed his innocent days of taking beautiful photography and adding some of those photos he took to the yearbook. He would be the guy who took all the homecoming photos, and the guy that took all the band and choir photos. But he wasn't that guy anymore. He wasn't that innocent looking guy anymore. He didn't have that kind of innocence anymore! Alison had stolen it from him.