Out of Control?

by Poyfection

Jacob. A five letter name, that seems to be flooding my mind. My life. My existence. I've not the type to care about people other than my family. So why, do I care if he is looking at me. Talking to me, and not the other skanks in my class. I want him, but why? (Jacob/OC)

Thank-you for viewing. I'm a beginner when it comes to writing, hopefully you'll enjoy.

15 years on this planet. 15 years seeing people change, seeing people become less hopeful. Losing their last shred of self-worth. Their reputation becomes their motivation. Their friends become their fans. Truths are stretched, just to obtain some entertainment. Some sense of "I'm here, look. Just look". Sometimes it's sad. Sometimes they bring it on themselves. Sometimes it's neither. Sometimes it's either.

Regardless of how young you are. How young you look, sound. Experiences age you. Some make you wiser. Others make you wonder. Wonder if anything is what they say it is. If turning 16 will mean anything. If I'm meant to be anything.
Maybe I'm not. Maybe I was a mistake. A 15-year-old mistake. Maybe they expect me to drown in the sorrow that they project on to me. In to me. Maybe I'm just crazy. Insane. Mental. I am just a 15-year-old girl, right? Well, this 15-year-old isn't going to sink. Not for them, at least.

Moving to Washington will either be the start of something good, or another thing to add to my long list of mistakes, right next to sitting in the back with my brother. Micky has his good days, his bad days, his "I'm gonna be a asshole today" days. He tries, tries to annoy the hell out of me. It's disturbing that he is two years older than me and yet, I'm the more mature sibling. The more rebellious sibling. Hmm, rebellion and maturity. Two traits that shouldn't share the same body. What can I say? I'm full of surprises. It's strange coming back here. Back to the place that my mother overdosed. She hasn't said a word about anything this whole trip. Maybe she feels guilty. Thinking that it's her fault we had to leave, we need a change. I personally loved this place. Everyone here is friendly, perfect even compared to Florida.

Fuck Florida. Fuck that whole state. Fuck the oranges, and the alligators. The sunshine state, right? More like a personal hell. At least we are back. We might even stay forever. Hah... forever. A useless word. It gives false hope, but any kind of hope would be great right now. Like the hope that maybe I will make friends. I was only 10 when I left. We left. Now we are back, and I hear the boys are hot. Lucky, me. Right?