Note: Fair warning, this story is loosely based of Awkward. It's not going to follow Awkward's storyline, but it's going to be similar. Some things to note, some characters are going to be OCC, but I'll try my hardest to keep them as Mashima wanted. There will be cursing, sexual content (it is based on Awkward), and violence. This entire story will be Lucy's point of view, unless stated otherwise.
PROLOGUE
Lucy,
As you are now, you could disappear and no one would notice. Below is a list of suggestions that you should seriously consider:
Number 1: Stop being such a pussy.
Number 2: Your instincts suck. Second guess them.
Number 3: The only people more pathetic than you are your friends. Drop the dead weight.
Number 4: When you're pretty, you're happy. And clearly you're not happy.
Number 5: Pull your head out your ass and stand out.
Number 6: Nobody likes the pitiful. Stop being such a drag.
Number 7: You have to be cruel to be kind.
Number 8: Make amends.
A Friend
The problem with being "unpopular" is that there are so many people to share your pain with, but no one truly cares. It's almost like a backwards prayer circle. Without the Jesus and stuff.
When I began high school, I was positive that the popularity stuff was all made up and it was just a product of a bad Hollywood movie. I've never been so dead wrong. It almost hurt actually, like physically. In my first day of school, I did manage popularity. I was known as the girl who attempted to kill herself with a huge bottle of Tylenol while listening to Lana Del Rey at 2:30 in the morning. Oh, and I was also the girl who got Natsu Dragneel-yes, the Natsu Dragneel, don't get your panties wet, ladies-notice the opposite gender enough to get asked out. Now, if you're the kind to listen to rumors and believe them, shame on you. Except, ahem, this one is almost completely true. It all started the week before school, where I got the letter that will surely ruin my entire life. My High School life, anyway.
"In the land of Gods and Monsters, I was an angel…"
The time was irrelevant now, losing itself somewhere at midnight. Even though I was sure it was late enough for the evening creatures that sang outside to quiet down, my body was still alert and awake. Some would call it insomnia, I would call it hell. I would want to say that it all started when Mom died, but that's not true. It started some time before middle school, when my biggest worry was boys and friends, not if chemo would work this week. Ignorance is bliss, right?
"If I get a little prettier, can I be your baby?"
The letter stood proudly amongst the mess on the sink, shining between lipstick and razors. It had everything written on it that I knew was true but didn't want to hear. Or read. It felt like a punch in the face with a sweet smile. Was I really that unlikeable? What could've I done to make someone so angry? Is this how others see me?
The questions moved like little ghosts in the room, laughing and tittering away at my despair. When I didn't answer any of them, they went away, only to be replaced by worse ones. I could barely hear the soft music, knowing Dad was sleeping his money away somewhere. I thought I knew myself, I thought the years of confusion and identity issues were buried along with my middle school yearbooks. Everyone knew me as the quiet rich girl, nothing more, nothing less. I had a small group of friends-two, if I'm honest-that consisted of sweetheart Lisanna Strauss and high honor roll Levy McGarden. Neither of them would be mean enough to send me something that would make me want to vomit, would they?
That was enough to send a pounding to my head, definitely. Somewhere in my fuzzy head, I remembered the innocent white Tylenol bottle behind the bathroom mirror. My pale hand reached up, not noticing the black cord that was attached to my iPod speaker. With a little pop, the mirror stood aside to reveal the pain reliever. But I've been known to have my mother's luck.
Which is why when I reached up to take the bottle, the cord got tangled in my arm, and the speaker fell with a loud sound. The bottle spilled out of the shelf along with other items when I rattled the sink out of fear. Which of course, my dad didn't close the damn thing, and all the pills spilled out like a river. Out of sheer frustration, dumb tears began swelling up in my eyes. My dad broke in, saw the mess, and his first assumption was a suicide attempt.
That's precisely why I ended up outside of the guidance counselor's office with a hospital band and every urge to run away.
But as I said, I have my mother's luck.
So that's when the "hottest" boy in school decided to open up the door at the same exact moment I opened it from the other side, causing us to collide.
And for him to-before even saying sorry-exclaim, "You're the suicide girl!" Once he saw my face.
Somewhere in heaven, my mom is sipping a martini and laughing away.
END NOTE: So that's the first chapter. Very short, I know, I'm sorry! The next ones will hopefully be longer. Some warnings, there WILL some OC's. This is my first multi-chaptered Fairy Tail story. I hope you enjoyed it. Reviews are welcomed, any kind. Have a great day!