Roses are red
Violets are blue
I don't own Maximum Ride
So you can't sue!
Well she never was the best
Yeah at following the trends
stayed one step above the rest
And even though it seemed
like the world was crashing on her
didn't let it hold her down, didn't hold her back
Oh no
Whoa
~ Seventeen ain't so sweet
Red Jumpsuit Apparatus
I looked in the mirror an let a low growl escape my lips; I looked like crap on a stick. My dark brown (almost black) hair looked like one of those poofy show poodle's coats after they were all primped and ready to go, I had gigantic black circles under my weary greenish/grey eyes and I looked like I had a super massive hangover, not what you want to show up to a new high school looking like. Not that I particularly cared what other people thought of me, no; I just didn't want to be pegged for a partying, crack-head on my first day. Drugs were a sensitive topic in my life and I didn't need immature teen drama queens making my life more of a living hell than it already was.
I scrambled across the tiny, cluttered trailer in search for a straightening iron and some clean clothes. I ended up with a burned ear, red skinny jeans, white leather combat boots and a black TWLOHA tee shirt. Pretty decent outfit if I do say so myself! Without even looking at the clock I race out the door dragging my backpack behind my like some dead carcass. I hoist my heavy backpack onto my back and jump on my bicycle and start pedaling like the devil himself is at my heels.
Riding along the small roads doesn't involve much brain power, so my eternally restless brain strays to the unfortunate series of events that lead me to be bicycling down this very road. I grew up in Maryland, a quiet little suburb where everyone had a white picket fence and unnaturally green lawns. My Mother, Dad, two brothers, Tracer (11) and Quentin (6), and I looked like the perfect family from the outside, but unfortunately we were far from perfect.
My dad was involved in drugs and his dealer was a gang leader. It never really bothered me until we started receiving whacked emails, letters and phone calls. Things started to go down hill from there. The Police got involved and ended up arresting my dad along with the gang leaders. I was crushed, but hoped that that would be the end of my issues regarding drugs. The leader's minions were none too happy about the arrest and figured it was my family's fault. Naturally they attacked.
All I saw was my mom scream and fall down, never to get up again. I grabbed my little brothers and took off. The only problem was the gang members had guns and cars, we didn't stand a chance. They split us up and tortured us. It was so hard knowing that I was the strongest, the only one who stood any chance against the three men with me, couldn't help my brothers. Some one heard the commotion and came and saved us.
Our extended family was willing to take in two of us, so of course I sent my brothers to live with our aunt and uncle in Michigan. I was left to be sent to the foster care system but I always liked my freedom so I took off, never to be heard from again. Since it was practically my father's, who I trusted with my life, fault that my life was in the crapper, I became wary of everyone, in my mind no one was to be trusted. And there you have it folks, the dreary life story of me, Juliet Perpetua Hazard.
~x~x~x~x~x~x~x~x~x~x~x~x~x~x~x~x~
I pulled up the sickeningly perfect drive was to Westerville Central public high school. I looked over the students and noticed that almost all of them were decked out in Abercrombie or American Eagle, how lovely. There were no bike racks so I stuck my bike in a bush and walked up to the ominous front doors. Like piercings, I thought to my self, get it over with quickly. Taking my last breath of fresh Ohio air for the day I pushed open the doors and walked over to the secretary's office, since it was the middle of the year I needed to pick up my schedule and all that other important stuff.
The secretary was a fake blond woman in about her fifties that had had a boob job and looks like extensive plastic surgery on her face, yuck! She looked up and gave me one of those flight attendant smiles and said "Hello, you need to get to class, unless you have an appointment with the counselor?" Oh, how lovely is that? The secretary thinks I'm like a juvie escape or something!
"No grandma, I'm the new student, Juliet Hazard." Talk about a Kodak moment, her jaw dropped, her eyes bulged and her face turned this hilarious shade of pink! She started blubbering about nothing and choking on her own spit. Finally she cleared her thought and handed me a stack of papers saying "Here is your map and schedule, class starts in five minutes."
I gave her a Cheshire cat grin and walked out of the office. I leisurely walked to my locker, not really caring that the late bell had already sounded. I could always give the excuse of being new and getting lost, psshh, yeah right! Well I stuffed my extra books into my plain, rusty locker; I didn't want to decorate it because that kind of stuff cost money and had absolutely no extra for pointless crap such as locker decorations.
After I stalled for the longest possible time I stuffed the stuff I needed into my ancient backpack that had band lyrics written all over it. I looked over my schedule and made my way to my first class, art. Over the years I had become quite the Picasso, art helped me vent my issues in a non-self destructive way. This was the only class I was looking forward to.
I stepped into the room and every effing person turned their head to stare at me, how cute! "Excuse me miss, but why are you ten minutes late to my class?"
"I'm new and got lost." I handed him the little slip of paper and he gave me a look that said 'you have got to be flipping kidding me!' but finished with a more appropriate "you may go sit next to Krystal." I walked over to the pretty African American girl who looked to be practically bouncing in her seat with anticipation or being the first person to make an impression on the new girl.
"Oh my God, Hi! My name is Tiffany-Krystal but you can just call me Krystal! Do you like the school? Is everyone being nice to you? Wher-" Holy flipping toaster waffles! I have never heard a person say so much so fast! Thank God the teacher glared at her and made her shut up.
"Can I please get on with my class now?" The teacher is obviously pissed about the interruption. I give him a little wave of my hand to show him that he can proceed with his teaching. "As I was saying before we will start off the year with sketches of our families." Oh Joy... and to think I was actually looking forward to this class.
The teacher walks around handing out charcoal pencils and paper. Everyone jumps straight into their picture, even Krystal, who I can already tell is a motor mouth, works almost silently. I take my time a run ideas of how I want to portray my family through my head. I finally decide to draw us all together, each person exactly how I last saw them.
I let my pencil fly across my paper,drawing my life story in under twenty minutes. I'm weird in the way that I don't look at my picture until I have completed it. So when I finished I looked over it and was satisfied with the fruits of my labor. My dad was standing in the back, in an orange prison jump-suit and hand cuffed, my mom was next to him with blood running down her face and a bullet wound above her left eye. My brothers were standing in front of them, each wearing their good will suits for the custody trial and had tear stained faces. Lastly I was sitting cross legged on the ground in front of them all looking exactly how I did when I left the house this morning.
Having finished before everyone else I turn and look at Krystal's picture. In her sketch her family is standing on the edge of a cliff. A tall blond girl is standing at the head with a tall dark boy at her side. Krystal is standing next to the girl holding the hand of a small blond girl. An extremely tall boy is standing next to the dark boy holding the hand of a small blond boy that resembles the small blond girl.
The warning bell rings and the teacher comes around to collect our drawings; he makes a funny noise and his face gets pale when he looks at mine. Just as I'm about to leave Krystal jumps in front of me, thoroughly scaring me shitless. "Hey, Juliet right? Do you want to eat lunch with my family and me? Please, it would be so much fun?" Okay, that girl's puppy dog face is so good it should be illegal! There wa just no way to say no to that face and Krystal knew it, but she still waited for my quick head nod before squealing and dashing out the my eyes I follow her into the hall way where I weave my way through the throng of people to my next class.
I absolutly love Iggy so I decided to give him a story of his own!
right now thing are slow but just bear with me, I promise it will get more exciting!
Please reveiw and let me know if I should continue!
I hope everyone is having a lovely holiday season!
~Lennie