Chapter one: Where it all starts:
I groggily awoke to a blairing cell phone, lazily falling out of my bed onto the hard, solid maplewood floor, my voice screaming loudly"WAKE UP YOU LAZY ********, YOU GOT A TEXT MESSAGE" as my ringtone. Oh, how I sincerely loved that ringtone so. I remember quite clearly that day in my 8th grade "Sex Ed" class when my cell phone happened to go off in the middle of a slightly disturbing video. The girls giggled. Everyone was laughing at me, but the teacher scowled angrilly towards me. I could sence her anger. I love pissing people off. Watching them. Making them Tick. The teacher gave me a tan pass, and I went to the BIP room, skipping happily through the hallways. I never knew why people hated that room so much. The people who are the "Goody goody" Teacher's pets always assumed that BIP meant "Behavior Intervention Program" room, but in my eyes, it was the best room in the school. I fooled around too much in it that I got kicked out of the BIP room, or to me, the "Best International Party" room.
I sat up, only in my bra and Girl Boxers, both having images of "Greatful Dead" skulls with the roses in their hair on them. They were blood red roses and the background behind the skulls was black, my favorite color. I reached up my hand, feeling a table, and took my phone off of the desk. After fumbling with it, dropping it, picking it up stupidly to see if it was okay, I looked at the screen. A message from Tiffany. Oh fun, something either useless of something I can't miss.
/QUICK, you need to be here! I don't give a ******** about what you are doing, drop everything and go! Well, get dressed before you leave, BUT JUST GO!/
I sighed, putting on some black short shorts with a grey spiked belt and chains, and a white and red paint splatted"Why so serious?" Joker shirt. I airbrushed it. The neck was a really low "V" neck, so you could see the scar tattoos, and it was like a belly shirt, showing off my life motto tattoo----"Live life To The Fullest, Never to the doubts". THe sleves were torn off to the shoulder so you could partially see my tattoo of the dragon and phoenix making a yin-yang. Before you ask why I have tattoos at age 16, remember that I have no parents and life with my friends. My friends are my family now. Never have, and most likely never will. And plus, before my dead friend Kaji died, she was a tattoo artist. I drew the tattoos on paper, she did the needle work. It stung, but hey, I love the pain. Any pain.
I glared into my reflection in my mirror, curling my lower lip down so I could put my lip ring in. My nose stud was next, then I put my belly button ring in.
You could see the piercing anyways, since my shirt stopped right after my ribs. The rest of my piercings were easy to slip on. Mainly the cartalage in the ear. I looked closely at my eyes, the same clouded foggy grey eyes. Thick, black eyeliner was applied. Red eyeshadow spread across my eyelids, and I brushed my eyelashes with mascara.
I looked at my desk, pushing everything off of it then grabbing my arm warmers that were under everything. I slipped them onto my arms and headed to my door, once outside of it, slamming it shut hard enough to knock my lava lamp off my side-table. It shattered, glass and liquid fleeing away from the source.
I locked the front door behind me, running down the snow covered path in my shorts that ended just below my butt. Oh, those legs of mine were cold.
After getting to my black-cherry 67' Maverick(?), I cranked the ignition and pulled out of my driveway.
My cell phone vibrated, It was Tiff.
"Hey, It's me, Tiff."
"I CAN read the caller ID, what do you want shorty?" I chuckled to myself shortly, that same psychological(?) tone in each snort. She coughed hourselyin the background, then she came back to the phone.
"Well," She said. I could hear the strain in her voice from coughing. She cleared her throat with another throat-hurting cough, then continued in a slightly raspy sounding voice. "I need to show you something."
"Be right over." I said, hanging up after having a little "Conversation" about some other stuff with her.
By this time, I was just barely passing by the country three corner's store. I could recognize it from the building's red trim. I made a near "U" Turn to my right, passing by the hoplessly abandoned car shop that Jake and Samuel always play paint ball in. I slammed hard on the brakes, swiftly hopping out of my car, which was still rolling slowly, hoping to see the roudy two twin boys in there.
I cupped my hands around my eyes, pressing them against the cold frosted glass. I saw two moving shadows, one sitting on the hood of a white camarro(?), and the other hanging upsidedown from the beem, that one being undoubtedly Samuel. It was protesting against his weight.
I took off my shirt(Tell me if any of yer characters were there watching. I'll laugh if someone was.) like one of those bad-a** dudes from a action movie, then punched in the glass window, which was already cracked.(Most likely from Samuel's bad-aiming in Paintball.) I shivered, then slipped into my "Why So Serious?"shirt, obviously after shaking the glass out of it, and poked my head into the shop, through the window that i just broke.
Jake was the one sitting on the car, and obviously Samuel hung from the beem upsidedown, his shirt half up his chest. Jake was wearing his friend Harry's pink "Bitches Get Stitches" Blood On The Dancefloor band shirt---which Jake more then likely stole---, White skinny jeans that clung on to his calf muscle, and a shark tooth necklece that Samuel gave to him when he was in the recovery room in a hospital after "The accident". He was also wearing black and grey plaid converse with the white laces.
Samuel, on the other hand, was wearing one of his many Metro Station band shirts---He had as many as he wanted since he was the singer in it. The shirt simply said "Let's Drop!" In big bold neon green letters with a black background and midnight blue shading. His shoes were off, in the corner of the store. They were pink, neon green, and white Osiris with black laces. He wore black fake leather skinny jeans, which he took from Verin's wide variety of odd clothes from that runway modeling thing he went to. His normal grin was spread across his face, red in the face from laughing too hard. Jake grinned back at him, finishing up some murmuring to Samuel, then they both looked at me.
"EY, Sammie, Jake."
They both looked at eachother, then back to me. Jake's heterachromia(When one eye is Red and the other is blue.) eyes glistened in the light. His hair wasn't covering his red eye, surprizingly. They both said in their annoyingly timed rhythm, a simple "Hey Ransom."
"You two are freaks, you know that? YOu say....everything at the same time, look NOTHING alike, and only one of you has an eye defect."
"EY." Both of them said, jake's deeper voice sticking out.
"Well, FYI, my eye WAS a grey color like both of your's are, until the car accident not too long ago. It was terrible...and it nearly killed me! I had Metrochromia, now I have Heterachromia." Jake retorted, huffing a breath after speaking in an agrivated, speedy tone.
I sighed. "Sure, I guess yer right." my phone vibrated from shifting positions, and I looked at the time. "Oh, too bad... I gotta go to Tiff's place. Bye."
I left them, without waiting for a "Bye" or them trying to ask why I needed to see her at the moment.
I climbed back into my car, smoking up the tires, then rocketing away, drifting side to side, spurring dust and rubble behind me. Up the hill i went, dodging an old lady with her dog, and turning abruptly onto Beaver Pond Road, across from Corliss(?) lane.
I murmured the numbers as I passed,
"23...45...OH, theres Dillon....62......72---" I pulled into the driveway "72" and pulled into the Yellow house's parking lot. I got out of my car, slamming the door shut, resting my right hand on my hip.
"Hurry up. My legs are freezing out here."
Tiff ran outside. Her eyeliner was smeared slightly under her right eye and her bronze-ish blonde hair flung out of her face as she ran. Her black and red System Of A Down shirt was slightly baggy, and her stone-washed skinny jeans didn't look at all new. They had a hole that looked about a foot and a half long going from just above her knee down to her ankle. Under that she wore her black and purple striped nylon tights. She said they make her legs look better.
"Oh, we just make every day seem like halloween." She muttered, getting into the passenger seat "Dukes Of Hazzards" Style. But she was no Daisy Duke.
I quickly swung open the driver's door and dove into the seat explorer style(The way I do at the end of the dances xD), and my brown hair flung into my face, the black streaks covering my eyes. I blew the streaks from my face, shut the door, and backed out of the driveway, turning my head to Tiff, grinning slightly to show my pointed Canines.
"So, where to squirt?"
"Dad's." She replied. She sounded stern.
"Why...?" There was a questioning tone in my voice.
"There is something I need to show you." She said. Her voice sounded serious.
I tore up the ice off of the driveway on my way down it.
- Title: On The Road- CPTR one
- Artist: BeetleGoose
Yes, My other account (Which was hacked) it ll Epic Stalker ll.
I did post this, but I figured I'd post this on here, too. :P
Ransom=My alter Ego
Tiff= Actual self.
Dillon=My boyfriend. xD
Samuel/Jake= Some random roleplay characters I have. They're twins. (And their hot.)
I wrote this for my friends, so there might be stuff in "()"'s.
- Date: 04/27/2010
- Tags: story band ontheroad