Ok, stop. Before you read this, I should warn you of a few things, firstly emmett comes into the story later, so don't fucking review saying 'Where's emmett?' because he will be in the story, but much later as will the rest of his family. Ok! Secondly this contains girl/girl and if you don't like that then just don't read it, ok? And also I find it funny when people don't like the story and give me 'mean' reviews because that means I have suceeded in pissing you off, which makes me happy, because I like it when I throw people out of their comfort zone. That's what I'm doing here, writing outside of my comfort zone to see if I can pull it off, I have also notcied that people on mibba like this story, fanfictioners in general have a less open minded approach, prove me wrong!
I walked steadily down the hall, counting breaths so as not to completely fall of the rail. Not literally obviously, as both my feet were firmly on the ground but I had her next period, and it's actually scary sitting in the classroom, knowing she's there, watching me, scrutinising me, trying to keep me on the right track supposedly. But what is the right track?
I'm Annabelle, fifteen years old, and I'm in love with my Art teacher.
Nothing, and I repeat nothing, is more messed up than that. And I should know! I used to be normal, that is, as close to normal as a fifteen year old, Gerard way fan girl can be, but then I saw her and everything changed. Lynz Way, his wife had given up the bass after their first child, and got into teaching. And of course, she chose my school to teach at, she had to teach my class! I had always admired her, looked up to her, but now those posters on my walls held new meanings, the songs I listened to screamed the same lyrics at me but contained different words. In a sea on students, I was the one freak, then albino black sheep, and I was to quote her song 'Royally Fucked'.
I don't know what I wanted from her, nothing, and everything. I wanted to be with her, but at the same time I wanted nothing to do with her, I wanted to scream and tell her how much she meant to me, but my mouth held a combination lock on it, a series of numbers which were unknown to me. If anyone can tell me what is wrong with me, I'd love to hear it, because my life honestly can't get any worse! I can't tell my Father, because he hates gays, my mother is dead and my sister hates my guts. She blames me for my mom's death, and to be honest, sometimes so do I. But I need someone to tell, my situation was getting slowly worse and the scars running up and down my wrists proved my insanity, I was falling off the rails, and soon it could be all too literal.
It was half way through art class when it happened, I was working on my painting in the corner of the room, a small house in the middle of the countryside was burning, like a beacon of hell, I liked that image. I am strange aren't I. Apart from that, I was relatively sane at that moment, until she approached me from behind. Her voice was carried to my ears and I froze. Instantly. She thought I was just shy, I hadn't said a word to her yet, we had only had 3 classes anyways.
"You need to make bigger brush strokes with your wrists, honey" Honey, why was that word like venom through me, she probably called Gerard that as well, and a fan girlish feeling ran through me, only this time it wasn't for Mr. Way, it was for his other half. My other half. She gently took hold of my wrist to show me what she meant, and in doing that, my latest scar peeled open again and if my wince didn't show, the red now pouring through my black sleeve sure did.
Her shock was instant, her eyes instantly ablaze with concern, she opened her mouth to say something, but nothing came out and just as she seemed to find words, the bell rang signalling the end of class, the end of the day.
"Follow me honey" she let my hand down gently and I followed her through the now emptying classroom, into her office.
Great, alone in my hot art teachers' office, not to mention, my hot art teacher who is worried about me.
What could possibly go more wrong?