Its now about lunch, and I walk into the side lunchroom. We have a smaller, used-to-be-a-classroom lunchroom compared to the cafeteria. 'S how many people we have in our school. Anyway, this headache has run away with me so all I do is sit down at the table - middle one on the right - and put my head down. I also plug my ears because I'm starting to believe this is a REALLY bad migraine. Plus, the white of the tiles on the floor and the tables are killing my poor eyes so I close them too. Part of me thinks I'm a turtle, the other part is going: 'You are deffinately a hermit.' The last part is gung-ho to just go home, wait till 3:05, and get on the phone with Dwight. I always talked to him with a headache. His voice seemed to relax it away.
Let me go into detail. Dwight has been my boyfriend for almost the past 2 years. He has a sense of humor like mine - dry, sarcastic, semi-perverted, and twisted. We're both morbid together, and both sharp tounged to Michael Jackson, and we enjoy Shadow the Hedgehog and company, dragons, vampires, werewolves, etc. There's a list maybe up to half a thousand things so far and a lot more to go. I think he's blind, and he says he's not. Why? He's dating me. Most people of the male side would take one look at me and immediately bring up all the contents of lunch. He doesn't, which surprises me.
Standing at 5'5, my love has longer hair. But not to the point where it's carnie-people long. The brownish amber, and wavy, hair only comes to his shoulders. Slightly broad, he's got a little muscle on his arms but not much, which is good. A broad chest sits under his shoulders, and at just the place where I can rest my head on either. His sides slope down a bit, finally coming to his hips. He has a slight figure of a woman, oddly, and looks kinda feminine for a guy, but I like him that way. And then he's got nice legs too - don't tell him I said that. But, despite his awesome good looks, he's like me - a 'Gothic' kind of person. Pale, and wears all black. His friends sometimes call him things along the lines of 'Lucifer', 'Satan's Spawn', 'God Hater', and 'Dwight'. I found out that at one point and time he used to be a satanist. He wore the reversed cross but didn't go into the rituals and whatnot, but did follow some of the beliefs.
I smiled at thinking about that, and his image formed in my mind so I smiled more. That's when someone nudged me. I opened an eye slowly to see Ashley, John, and Brandon staring at me like I was a freaking weirdo. Okay, so I am a freaking weirdo. But it doesn't mean they could confirm it for me. And when I looked at the two guys the thought that would ruin my little happy moment hit me: Dwight is the only guy so far who'd ever go out with you. But are you sure he's not using you?
Disgusted at myself for even thinking that, I jerked my head up and felt nauseated. Ugh, glad I didn't have lunch. Then I mentally kicked myself. How dare you even think about that! He's not like Andrzej(Pronounced "On-Jay") . Hasn't he proven that enough?
There I go with my emotional baggage again. I won't tell you about Andrzej yet, but maybe if you really care. Let's just say that he used me. And I didn't even know what he was doing. He sweet-talked me, he told me he wanted me to have his kids, that we were going to be married - but he hardly ever said to me 'I love you'. That should have been my first warning sign. But how the hell was I supposed to know, I was barely 12 years old! He was my best friend from preschool up untill the summer between 6th grade and 7th grade. Then, he did it. He stabbed me in the back and used me - his cover was blown wide open.
About a month later, after knowing each other for a year, Dwight and I got together. He had figured out something was wrong about 2 weeks into the relationship because I had shut down. I wasn't as open or laughing as much, and I was talking about death and stuff like that WAY too much. And then I told him. Dwight was furious - and from what I heard, he kicked a hole in the wall and snapped at anyone who spoke to him - he wanted to know how the hell could anyone do something like that to me? He also wanted to know where Andrzej lived, so he could get on a greyhound bus, come here, visit me, and beat the shit out of Andrzej.
Truthfully, the fighting thing didn't even flatter me and I told Dwight that. He said that it was a crime, and he needed to be punished. I didn't care. The only thing I wanted to to was avoid Andrzej, keep my problems to myself, and not cry over it anymore. Sadly that isn't the case. It came back up again, and now the police are investigating. I snapped, that's what happened. Or, I almost did. Asshole called me a whore, a fat ass bitch, said that all I wanted was his money - What money? I never knew he even had a dime. AND WE WERE 12 YEARS OLD, YOU SHITHEAD! - and all this different stuff. I had enough of being silent. I walked over to where he was sitting, had my finger about a foot in a half from his face face, and screamed.
"YOU DO NOT TALK ABOUT ME THAT WAY, BECAUSE YOU HAVE NO FUCKING RIGHT TO TALK ABOUT ME AT ALL! AND IF I HEAR ANYMORE FROM YOU, I WILL BE PISSED, YOU LITTLE FUCKHEAD!"
Through the whole thing he sat there and laughed. And laughed. And laughed. When I was at the end he grabbed my wrist. I pulled my hand away as fast as I could. I glared at him and growled. It rumbled deep in my chest, and all the people around him looked at me like I was the lover of Lucifer. Which, is slightly true. In a low voice, I said something along the lines of: "You have no right to touch me, and leave me alone..."