Hello, peeps. Thank you all for those encouraging reviews! They were so cool, and awesome, and DLJFASLDKJ. I loved them all. And I would've had this chapter up yesterday, but I went to my friend's birthday party-thing, and it was AWESOME. Except for the fact that I now have multiple bruises marring my body now (we all play a little rough xDD). Review please. And, in case you want to know, the next chapter of iOwnYou is coming out soon. That chapter is turning into the longest one I've ever typed, so far O.o;
Friday, September 25, 2009
Carly's forcing you to go to school.
It's Friday,
so why should you?
What's one more day to miss?
he knows that you'll probably
just skip class,
like you always do.
Yet, you're still here,
standing at your locker with her.
You're trying to avoid Freddie at all costs,
but you're really not trying that hard
as your staring at Gibby,
thinking how annoying he's being
standing there with his nerd-friends,
probably talking about Galaxy Wars.
You think he needs a wedgie.
So why are you still standing here?
The boy is clearly in need of a wedgie.
It's 3rd period,
and you're in the old janitor's closet.
It's the one that hasn't been used
in the 3years you've attended
Ridgeway High.
It's your secret place.
You come here
almost every time you skip class.
It's not much,
but it's homey
because you've brushed
this place up a bit
with an old, dusty red armchair
you stole
from old man Higgins' yard.
And you've cleaned it up
(like, actually dusted a few spots
here and there).
It really isn't much,
but it's definitely homey,
at least in school, that is.
You haven't talked to Carly
about the idea
having an abortion,
yet.
You're sorta afraid
of what she might say to you
because, maybe
she'd want you to keep
it
(that's the term
that you refer
to the thing inside of you as:
it).
But you're not completely sure
about whether you want to keep
it
or not.
Having an abortion
is still only a lingering suggestion
born from your chaotic mind.
Besides, just how the hell
would you ever get your hands
on the money?
You can barely afford a school lunch,
much less a 300 dollar abortion.
But the thought is still here
in your mind.
You're still thinking of it,
it's not completely forgotten.
Now, it's 4th period
and you're sitting
in one of the plastic cushioned chairs
in the Counselor's
homemade therapeutic office,
because, apparently, Principle Franklin
(or Ted, as you like to call him)
thinks you need guidance in your life
just because of the wedgie
you gave Gibby this morning
was for "no apparent reason".
Oh,
you had a reason alright.
The boy was being annoying!
You can't help that he irks you
by just living.
The Counselor
(or Ms. Scraff)
is demanding that you look
at the papers
with the ink-filled splotches
in front of you
and tell her what you see:
"A cantaloupe with one, hairy ear
a European Fatcake
and a ham."
She's staring at you,
but not in the same way Carly and Freddie
have been doing the past two days.
It's a look filled with loathing
of yourself and/or her job
and you laugh.
Ms. Scraff wants to know
what's been going on in your life
as of late
and you think to yourself
eating, drinking, sleeping
oh, and just getting knocked up
by my"frenemy",
but you don't inform her
of your last thought.
Being jailed in the Counselor's office
wasted all of your lunchtime,
but Carly's saved
you a ham sandwich,
so it's all good.
Except for the fact
that she's just given you a cookie,
saying that Freddie bought it
for you.
When you get home
(Carly's house),
you make a beeline
straight toward the fridge
and Carly makes a comment on how
you'll most likely start
to have morning sickness soon.
And that startles you,
because you've never thought of it,
at least, not before now.
And you can't help
but shudder at the thought
of waking up early every morning
and practically throwing up
your brain
and your fried chicken.
Freddie's pointing the camera
at both you
and Carly
and he's counting down from 5.
You put up a façade
of genuine happiness
and that lazy smirk
that you're known for
and he gives you this smile
that makes your stomach flutter.
And you don't know
whether it's from indigestion
from all the crap you ate earlier
or something else.
But you just shrug it off
and continue you making
funny faces with Carly.
It's late
and Carly's in her bathroom
brushing her teeth
and changing into her PJ's
while you're laying on her bed,
yawning and falling
into a rather nice dream
about ham
and maybe just a little bit
of Freddie
here and there, too.