"Can't stop addicted to the shin-ding, cop-top he says I'm gonna' win big. Choose not a life of imitation, distant cousin to the reservation"

I gritted my teeth, slapping the top of my iPod-dock-come-alarm-clock blindly, when it chose not to stop I used all my force to smack the snooze button which subsequently sent my iClassic flying into the muddle of clothes, magazines, makeup and god knows what else which made up the floor of my room. It wasn't that I didn't like RHCP; I was just annoyed and confused. Why did mornings have to come so early? I leaned precariously out of my bed blindly reaching for my poor MP3; finding it I set it down on my bedside table.

Not that this was unlike every other morning of every other school day. I moaned like a zombie, surfacing from my plush duvet mess of a grave, swinging my legs over the edge of my bed, I got up. I stopped in front of my curtains; I braced myself then flung them open. I hissed like a vampire, eyes screwed up as I stumbled backwards, the snow reflected the overcast white-grey of the sky making it absolutely blinding. I panted risking opening one eye, I fought a shriek, my eyes burned as I blinked trying to move forward I stubbed my toe and squealed, I blinked frantically for another minute as my eyes got used to the light. I bend down then proceeded to scout the floor for anything wear-able. I cursed South Park and its damned snow as I crawled around in my tiny shorts and the massive jumper I slept in, goose pimples rippled out over my bare and very pale legs like dominos. I selected a clean-ish pair of slate blue hip skimming skinny's which were practically ripped to shreds and turned to my almost empty wardrobe.

I'd made a mess of my room in record time; we'd been here, like what? Two weeks? I hopped from clear spot to clear spot, not wanting to break anything or get a nasty surprise if I stepped on something. I searched along the bottom of my wardrobe, not finding much; I reached for my Red Hot Chili Peppers hoody.

I'd actually done something pretty cool with this one, I'd slashed the ends of the sleeves so they frayed, cut out a thumb hole because the sleeves were too long and I'd managed to make it into an off-the-shoulder hoody which took me ages but looked amazing. I grabbed it also taking some clean underwear. I got changed swiftly; I'd always loved this outfit. My I * RHCP top looked amazing, showing off my perfect skin (which I was very proud of, if only I didn't have loads of freckles on my cheekbones) I smiled at myself in the mirror, fringe resting lightly on my eyebrows as I reached for my brush.

My hair was a miracle. It was an amazing cherry red, so rich people asked what hair dye I used. I was a totally natural red-head; apart from that I got the opposite to a perm. I had ringlets when I was younger, cute-ish but I wanted to razor and layer my hair which wouldn't do with my curls, so I had a 6-month-strong straightening which sorted it out perfectly, it was almost down to my elbows when I left my arms by my sides. I tutted to myself as I saw my skinned knee through the rips in my jeans, freakin' skateboarding I thought as I rolled my eyes. I grabbed my iPod, tucking it into the pocket of my jeans, if I didn't have my iPod I would DIE. I searched for my headphones, they then joined my MP3. I turned back to my full length mirror, smiling triumphantly, I didn't look half bad. I was short. 5ft 5" isn't exactly tall by many teenagers' standards; my eyes are grey-blue but apparently changed shades depending on my mood. Overall I was okay. My mom said I was way too skinny but I ate SO much, constant crap: pizza (cold or warm), chips, fries, sweets, chocolate, popcorn, soda. Sugar and fat all the way, yum.

I went into the bathroom, peed, washed my face, cleaned my teeth then went back to my room. Applying my dark eyeliner and a feathery coat of black mascara I quickly ran my favourite pineapple chap stick over my lips shoving it into my satchel afterward, nothing like the cold to give you flaky lips.

I was born in England, flown over to New Jersey as soon as I was able, and lived there ever since. Well, ever since two weeks ago when we moved to the teeny-tiniest of towns, South Park Colorado. The miracle of snow had worn off around… 1 week and 6 days ago now; it was just annoying and made my converse wet. I took two of those plastic bracelet things called 'Sex Bands', doing the weird little hook around thing and slipping them on my wrist, I studied my chipped black nail polish but decided it looked okay. I slung my satchel over my shoulder; it was originally black and white checker. It's now kind of dark grey and black, fraying from every seam, the signatures of everyone from Middle School, Pictures, Lyrics, you name it, it's on there somewhere. I have badges too, ones I've received as presents from friends, ones I've bought myself, that used to be my thing at Middle School. But I was entering into the second year at High School, the first time I'd ever been without one person I knew at School. I open my underwear draw; I take out a wrapped packet of joints I'd made the other night and stuff them into the lining of my bag.

I thought of my sister who was obviously fast asleep next door, I whined wishing I was the one curled up in bed. I had been able to for the past two weeks, mom had been allowed to not make me go to school for that long. I was 'fragile', sometimes I was glad for that excuse, but not glad from where I got that excuse from.

My mom then came into the room; she placed her hands on my shoulders.

"Frankie? You okay hun?", she said worriedly.

"Mom, I'm fine. Just a little nervous", I replied cheerily.

"I told the School you prefer to be called Frankie or Chess, but don't be fazed if a few teachers call you Francesca", my mom smiled down at me, I had possibly one of the

coolest mom's ever.

"I won't be, hopefully they won't anyway", I shrugged it off, it didn't really matter to me all that much.

"You want me to give you a lift? It is your first day…" mom's eyebrows knitted together, concern evident in her voice. I laughed it off.

"Its fine mom, the stop's only just around the corner", I smiled "Thanks anyway", I gave her a hug then made my way downstairs then I glanced at the kitchen. I quickly darted inside and took a Pop Tart from the top shelf. I tugged on my battered converse, they were black hi-tops I wore them almost everywhere. I took my keys and dropped them into my satchel, I opened the door, stepping outside-

"Francesca Johnson! I hope you aren't leaving this house without a coat, scarf and hat on!" I slammed the door, smirking to myself as I walked past my mom's aged, burgundy merc. I held onto the Pop Tart, not feeling quite hungry yet, I glanced down. YES! Chocolate! Mom didn't usually buy chocolate ones, result! I smiled, grit on the sidewalk crunching underneath my converse's sole. I'd had braces when I was ten – thirteen, but now I LOVED my teeth, endless teasing of 'metal mouth' and 'brace face' had paid off. I decided not to listen to my iPod; it was only for if I was not talked to and if nobody sat next to me on the bus. I needed all the help I could get to fit in and I would talk to whoever would damned listen and suck up as much as I could. I broke off a corner of my Pop Tart nervously, trying to eat it properly but I let it turn to mush before swallowing it, my stomach was only loosely knotted, but knotted all the same

I turned the corner, the bus stop coming into view; a few kids were already standing or sitting by the shelter. I took in a deep breath, trying to look casual as I approached the stop.

-

Right, that's the first down. Send in your South Park OC's or I will DIE guys. Reveiw's would be welcome! And yes, I know it's short

Mucho love,

5kinnys