Monday came all too fast as does any event your not looking forward too.
I spent Saturday at my cousin's house who was in awe at my appearance though agreed to take me in all the same.
He's 17 and a drugged up high school drop out. His mum and dad are fucking millionaires, had him put in richie private schools all his life, which he had once explained, was the reason why he dropped out. He figured so long as he had his guitar and could mooch off his parents money, what's the point of staying in school. All you do in school is learn how to work and all you do at work is make money so really school was just teaching you how to make money, which he already had plenty of, or at least that's how he had explained it. He had said all this before he had actually dropped out which must have been about 4 months ago. I didn't know about it till 2 days after when my mum had told me (she and her sister were close but my mums always had a grudge against her for marrying a mean ass millionaire.)
I remember going to his house that day although my mum had said I couldn't; I dunno why, maybe she thought some of his wickedness would rub off on me. His parents had locked him in his ginormous room (which wasn't much of a bummer since it could have been a house all by its self) so I had to pick the lock with my switchblade.
I opened the door a crack and peered in, looking for snoddy (my cousin). The room was silent, everything was still. Kicking a pile of dirty clothes out of the way I opened the door to its fullest and looked around the large penthouse, my eyes falling on the bed where a body lay.
"Snoddy?" I whispered hoarsely in case he was sleeping.
No reply. I sauntered over to his bedside, gazing about the disheveled room.
"Snoddy?"
"Skits, I wish I never dropped out."
A raspy voice came from the quaking body,
"Skits, my parents…my parents wont talk to me. They called me a fucked-up ungrateful son and…and my dad slapped me."
As known, I'm not great with feelings and people in general so naturally I couldn't think of any thing to say to this. I shoved my hands in my back pockets and looked at him, shriveled up on the bed, his eyes sunken in, and his brown hair unkempt like I had never seen it.
He went on "Skits, I wanna go back to school."
"So go," I said indifferently as usual.
"I cant, don't you see! That would be giving in to them, saying they are more powerful then I am!"
"They are."
My cousin knew I wasn't one for comforting people but I don't think he cared; he just wanted someone to talk to.
"Yeah I know, but I can't let them know they are or else they'll never let me do anything again."
"If you want to know the truth, I don't think they'll care, they'll be too glad you're learning again to give a fuck about anything else."
Man I sounded like my mum, trying to connect with the savage beast called the adolescent. Looking back on that day I should have just told the dude to get his ass back in school where it belonged.
Snoddy didn't end up going back to school; pride stopped him I guess. Instead he made a pledge, to learn every song ever recorded by The Rolling Stones front wards and backwards, all the words and guitar too, in alphabetical order. So far I think he's up to 'Heart of stone'.
He had a couple of friends over that night, they came over right after his mum (my aunt) had convinced me to call my mum and tell her I was okey, dokey (which was bullshit).
We played shots for an hour or two. It didn't take long for me to pass out so I was only conscious for half the time. I came to around midnight and puked a couple times before dozing off again.
Snoddy's friends usually liked me cause I didn't ever say much and when I did I made sure it wouldn't piss them off.
I didn't like them though.
They were all loud as hell and liked to get into trouble. I wasn't afraid of trouble but like any fucking sane person, I didn't like it.
I remember one time they tried to get a copper to jail them just to tick their parents off about having to pay the bail. Like Snoddy, they were all rich motherfuckers whose folks didn't give a fuck about them and hauled their asses out of jail the next day with out saying a fucking word.
Sunday I went back home for a couple hours, at times I knew the house would be empty. I took a much-needed shower after realizing that I smelled like ass from my puke fest the night before and took a short nap on the couch. I had borrowed some black-wear from my cousin but it wouldn't be enough for everyday of my teenage life so, after stealing 120$ from my mum, I went out in search of more. Before going, I left a note for my mum, telling her I would be back around 10:00pm and not to say anything when I came back.
That was bullshit.
I would be back around 12:00; knowing her, she would be up waiting for me any earlier.
If there is one thing I can never get its how people get all strung up about lying to their folks. I dunno bout them but for me its fucking easy as hell. Easier then lying to any one else; teachers, friends, girlfriends. I fuckin lie to my mum all the time with out breaking a sweat. No bad karma so far and every night I sleep like a baby. Man, if I had a penny for every lie I've told my mum and she's believed, I would be some rich son of a bitch.
I skipped breaky Monday morning, hoping to get the 7:10 train instead of the 7:25 so I would have time to stop at star bucks before school (dun, dun, dun). Besides, any food I put down the hatch would probably surface again eventually (my nerves were acting up to the extreme and I found myself pissing every 5 minutes.)
I was going into school, without any of my homework done, dressed all in black with black hair, and without a single friend. It felt like the first day of 6th grade except fucking ten times worse. They all knew me in there but they didn't know the new me.
I planned to come into school just as the bell rung so I wouldn't have to deal with any of the fuckers on the stoop. And I was gonna go in there like a true punk and not the damn coward they thought me as. No hood, no hat, no nothing. They would see me as I was; a black obsessed freak and proud of it.
I got downtown around 7:35 with about 25 minutes to go. I decided to head into the least popular of the four Starbucks surrounding school, in case another student saw me and recognized me (if that was at all possible.)
Now, usually grown-ups don't hold much against me apart from the fact that I'm a lousy, ungrateful, raucous-making, teenager with long hair, which in their minds, should be cut. But in that coffee house, it seemed like every human above the age of 25 was glaring at me, their lips pursed as they watched me enter that fine coffee establishment.
Of course, being a kid, I had felt many a glare before and usually when you look the glarer's in the eye they turn away for a while, but on this such a joyous morning, I caught their eye as usual and they just kept on glowering! It was like they had something against me personally and not just my generation!
I shoved my hair out of my face, thinking that maybe if they saw my eyes and not a glob of black hair they would think me more civilized.
It was only then that I realized it; I was punk.
And suddenly I didn't blame them for staring, I mean, I must have looked like a fucking anarchist come to loot the place!
Not only would my black obsession change my relations with peers but it would also change how strangers looked at me, how people saw me when I passed by. No longer could I hide under the veil of innocent music lover with angry thoughts. I looked how I felt; angry and depressed! People would no longer see me as a naïve, guiltless kid. They would see me as a rebel, dangerous and sinister with impish ways! Hell, just the description of what I looked like could get me arrested!
I tied back my hair (maybe I could get away as being one of those jazzy poets, beatniks or whatever they're called) and approached the cashier on the right, a 20-or so year old girl with shoulder length purple/red hair, hoping to get some empathy from her type.
The girl smiled at me and a sudden spark erupted inside my stomach.
"How are you today?" she chuckled as if she could read my thoughts and knew that this act of kindness, however small, was exactly what I had been needing.
"Good," I said between sighs of relief, "tall black coffee."
I looked around the room of glares as she rang up my bill.
"Just dye your hair?" she asked pleasantly, following my gaze as I grazed the hateful faces turned towards me.
"Uh yeah, two days ago."
"1.80$. It takes a little getting used to, public response and all."
I gave her a toothy grin; I was just glad she had started a conversation. Perhaps now I could say I had at least one friend or positive acquaintance in this world.
"But don't worry, you look good with black hair," she went on.
I took the ponytail out of my hair and let it fall into my eyes once more.
"What's your name?" I asked after a couple moments of silence; I figured if she was trying to flirt with me, why not flirt back.
"Sheena," she stated amiably.
"Is Sheena a punk rocker?"
"Yes, Sheena is a punk rocker," She giggled, "and what's yours?"
"Michael but no one calls me that,"
"So, what can I call you?"
Once again her voice was full of flirtation, which at the moment was working just like medicine in healing a broken soul and ailing confidence.
"Skittery will do."
At this moment she looked up from my gaze and to the clock in the corner.
"My shifts up, but maybe I'll see you here tomorrow morning?"
"Yeah, maybe."
"Good luck with your new 'do, I like it, I hope everyone else does."
She smiled one last time before heading towards the back room of coffee house and to who knows where.
I took it upon myself to treasure this smile, guessing it would be the last warm gesture for the next 24 hours.
REveiw!
ps. if you have punk/rocker character ideas please email them to me at or pennaroyaltea (aim) or just add them into the reveiw. describe your character and their personality (girl charactersonly) must be punk or rock!
gracias mucho (yes i know that is incorect spannish)