Most people start their story at the beginning, the ones who want to be different start it at the end, and well you see I am not like most people and I don't try to be different, it just happens. Therefore my story has no beginning, and no end, I don't even know if it has any kind of order, but it makes me who I am, maybe you'll reach some understanding, or maybe I might come out looking even crazier than before we started, but that my friend also makes me who I am.

Why was I so angry? It pained me as I yelled my harsh words, and let the filth pour out of my mouth, and all I wanted to do was get on my hands and knees to clean up the mess I've made. No going back now. I could feel my pulse racing, and the anger I felt boiling the blood under my skin. Why do I feel this way? I reached for the door and let myself out slamming the massive piece of wood with force behind me. It takes all of my energy to steady my nerves, and cool the fire I've ignited.

Now I feel sadness rush over me. I have no idea why I want everyone to hate me. Maybe it's easier than caring too much; maybe it's easier to cause the pain before I can feel it. I let my legs lead the way, and let my mind drift, I let the skies tears roll down my cheeks, and the puddles fill my shoes.

"Should I even ask?", came a familiar voice, it brought me back… back from where? Where was I? Why am I so lost?

"I guess you shouldn't" I should smile, force a smile, am I smiling?

He smiled back, there's my answer. And what's that noise, oh ha-ha it's the flutter of my heart; or maybe it's the butterflies in my stomach, all I know this fool is causing it.

"Are you going to stand in the rain all day or come in?" He asked stepping to the side, leaving room for me to pass by.

"Are you going to stay inside all day, or come out" I held out my arms, and embraced every single drop of rain.

"Girl you're one crazy soul, it's raining cats and dogs, I'm good right here." He said crossing his arms.

I'm standing here, in the rain, wanting you. Why am I here?

"Quit questioning yourself" I could feel his words through the ice cold air, and the golf ball sized rain drops, he can't know what I'm thinking, can he? "You know you're freezing your ass off, get inside before I make you"

"Oh please, you can't handle this" I put my hands up as fists.

Barefooted, and shirtless he ran out into the rain and threw me over his shoulder and ran me into the house.

I couldn't help but laugh and scream as he made his way through the house and threw me on the couch.

"Wow your right"

"Of course I'm right… what am I right about again?" He asked so innocently.

"It's warm in here"

He shrugged his shoulders at me and shook his head; I wish I knew what you were thinking.

"Where are you coming from?"

"Me?... eh you know… here and there" I got up off the couch and he threw something in my face "what's this?"

"A change of clothes, you look like a wet dog" He said, his back was to me.

Ouch I really felt that "ouch"

"What?" he asked, back still to me.

Is he serious right now?

I left the room without a word. My clothes clung to me like a second skin, and I debated whether or not to just drop his offer on the way out. Why are you here Bella? What's here for you?

…

So I did just that, I left his clothes folded at the front door. I'm not mad, but I can't find a reason for why I'm leaving. Sometimes I really contemplate the idea of sanity; it appears that I really lack that quality. Do people think as much as I do, put in so much thought, I feel myself making me crazy. Does that even make sense?

I can feel my phone in my pocket, I'm eager to see who it is. I hope they can save me.

I feel a little tug at my heart when I read the name,

"hello?"

"hewwwwwooooo" Came that same familiar voice that made me feel all warm inside, the one who attempted at imitating me.

"yo" yo? That's it?

"uhhh where'd ya go?" He was calm

"Eh.. you know… here and there"

"ummm I guess"

Say something?

Come on.

Anything.

"well be safe, alright"

Open your mouth.

"really?" he waited for me to speak "I don't know what I said but I'm sorry." There was an edge to his voice, "call me."

And that was it.

That was it.

I needed something to clear my head, to take off the edge. So I took out my phone and did what I know best,

"Hey Jazz? Yea hey what's up? Can I com by? Sweet thanks bro."

Hours later I found myself numb to the world, not clear of anything. This haze gets me through, I might not get to things, finish what needs to get done, and I can feel myself losing my grip. One more hit, and yes numb. In a worry-less pit, in a coma of sweet desire. Every word melts together, and I don't have to worry anymore.

"Can you feel this?"

Is someone talking to me?

"good, how about this?"

I didn't say anything, but I feel it.

I can't help myself, I can't say a word, I can't even lift my head. I don't feel safe, something doesn't feel right. I can't think straight, all I know is I want this to end, I don't want to feel like this anymore. I feel pain, my mind feels it. It's too much to bare, please end it.

Please

Please

Please

The light shining through my window wakes me with its warmth. I have a weird feeling in the pit of my stomach but I can't figure it out. A sudden wave of worry washes over me as I search for the clock. Nine o' clock. Relief, I have time to get to work, and I'm so not looking forward to it.

The air was crisp outside, and the hint of winter was in the air. I tightened my scar and made my way to work. Along the way I passed by a familiar house, the same one that had a silly shirtless boy standing in the doorway welcoming me in. There goes that weird feeling in the pit of my stomach.