I don’t give a single crap of what people think of me. For that matter I don’t care because, you know what? I’d rather rip my damn ears out so I won’t have to listen to the trash they throw at me! I can be whoever the hell I wanna be than living up to these petty standards and stereotypes.

What’s the point of following these standards: aka trends. Like seriously, why should I be as generic as them? We’re our own person, we’re different; unique. That is what separates us from others. And I’m sure as hell not gonna hand that over on a silver plate to those narcissists.

No sir ye!

I will not be that average Joe. I’d rather be that insane Joe who break dances on stilts. That would be sick as hell. Seriously, you see this happy clown on stilts who break dances out of nowhere. Now that’s a circus I’d go to. Either way, it’s fun breaking out of the mold society gave us and make our own mold.

Sure there’s a fifty out of fifty percent chance that it’ll backfire. But is it really hurting anyone? Or yourself with that information? Hell no! Though, that might not be the case at times; that’s why we have a conscience. Our conscience is a manifestation of our brain that processes what we see, feel, touch, taste, and smell: five senses to sum it up.

Some argue that some may have a sixth sense. It’s plausible, like it’s plausible there’s a God. Almost as plausible that our eyes are the reflections of our soul and crap. Hell, they say the lighter your eyes are the chances of your true intent and feelings to show through is greater. Another saying, the darker your eyes, the more off chance you’re a killer. Kidding kidding, chill out guys.

I have light eyes actually… well shit, I’m an open book then.

Whatever, it’s not like I’m one of those bishounen pretty boys. Now that would be the entire concept of an open book. Honestly, have you seen how large their eyes are? Though, that goes for every anime character, except for Levi. What is he, constipated or has a face freeze?

I’d start laughing my off when I see a male lead in anime. It’s like finding out in an anime that is was a he not a she. Yeah? I’m an otaku, is there a problem with it? I can like anything I damn well please. Now, if you’ll excuse me I gotta finish this bloody statement before I shred it like Shredder.

What a pain in the ! I could’ve just gave my statement to the court or the detectives. But no they feared that I wouldn’t be able to handle it. I’m seventeen damnit! Not a small, tiny, weak baby who can’t do crap when they’re about to die.

Okay let’s get into the juicy details, so that way I can crawl into a hole die.

Secrets are just like stories. Meaning, secrets and stories are meant to be unraveled, at least for those who want to read it, understand it. Never in a million years would my secret be unraveled for those very people to do just that. Well, not me, that’s for sure.

My phone’s alarm goes off as I groan pressing the Dismiss button. Rays of the ever so overwhelming sun hit my eyes as I squeezed them, rolling over, not wanting to get up now, or ever. Whenever we wake up from our deep slumber, we feel as though it's going to be one hell of a day, I thought idly.

“Seth,” mom whispered through the door, “time to wake up now.”

I groan in response, forcing myself to get up, even though I already know what those old geezers are gonna teach me, but no, I still have more to learn about! At least that's what they think. Like seriously, my mom already taught me everything. I don’t understand why I have to go to that hell hole. What is she, trying to kick me out.

Fair enough actually. Lessens the chance of me interacting with That.

I almost fell asleep by standing up, due to our ever so generous neighbors cussing each other out all night. To my thoughts on their predicament these are as follows: IF YOU HATE EACH OTHER SO FUCKING MUCH THEN GET OFF YOUR SORRY ASSES AND GET A DIVORCE DAMNIT! As you can see, I value my sleep like it was my life source. Listen if I were to pull an all nighter I’d likely piss off the police.

God, couples these days don’t know when they’ve had enough. If they despise each other that much, why did they marry each other in the first place? I mean, they had to know they’d argue this much. Take my parents for example, their relationship is toxic as hell. It’s a wonder why my mum hasn’t filed a divorce and restraining orders on It yet.

Anyway, with perseverance I was able to to balance myself and painfully, put a nice distance between my monochromatic single bed, and me, by going into my moderate sized bathroom. I’m so glad I chose this room. So that way I wouldn’t have to go out bump into It, or have It kick the door open when I’m showering. I am not going to be assaulted when I’m **** and wet.

Once I got inside, I stripped myself of my blood stained clothes, turned on the water, and jumped in, not allowing it warm up. The piercing cold of the water woke me perfectly, as I began to clean myself quickly. After showering, I was shivering - teeth chattering, but got out, dried myself quickly, brushed my teeth - careful not to brush my removable black lip ring, and left the bathroom.

I entered my monochromatic room, to my dresser. Heh, monochrome, the tranquility of it's flat colors intrigue, and slightly amuse me. Now I’m wishing I was monochromatic, so that way I wouldn’t have to feel a single overbearing thing, that’d be beyond pleasant. It’d be blissful.

If only we were colors. If we were, we could be any color we want to be and feel. Though, some would go full rainbow. Eh, whatever, they can like whoever they want. It’s not like they’re affecting me negatively or whatever.

Once I threw on boxers, I picked a random shirt and jeans, just to make my life easier. Hm, seems like my random picks for clothes is flawless, per usual. Wish my life was just like that, I thought bitterly. At least there’s bright side to it.

The shirt was black, with a white striped pocket over a heart, and a pair of black skinny jeans, which, is easy to slip into with my physique. I quickly put socks on, and grabbed my electric blue iPhone, and gray backpack. But before I left my room I took a look at myself in the mirror. As I did, I pushed back my black bangs, but knew it wouldn’t matter. No matter how much hairspray or gel I used they wouldn’t stay still, and instead, go flat.

I mean, I could use hair pins but I’d lose them in three days.

I begin tracing the fading bruises on my slightly chubby cheeks. Thank you mum, for letting me not go to school until these bruises are faded enough. Note to self, do not piss off your demon of a damned father before going out, or you’ll be going out with a mild concussion. Although, I guess that’s rare, I usually go with a major concussion. Whoopy do! Lucky me.

Then again, I could be in a coma.

With that depressing thought in my mind, silent as a mouse, I crack the door open. Hearing nothing, I carefully open it. I take a step out, and double checked to hear any voices, before running down the hall, and slide down the staircase. There were a few empty bottles of beer, and wine, but I was able to avoid them. Although the regular bottles formed a complex maze, the worst part are the broken ones. Might need to get another tetanus shot after this.

As I avoided the shards and bottles, I made my way to the amazingly clean, but small, kitchen. My mum is bent down, picking up the last of the bottles in there. She stood up upon hearing me enter. She smiled sweetly, as she came up to me, her grey eyes tired with light eye bags. Poor mum, wish she had a real Prince Charming to swoop her off her feet.

“Good morning, Seth,” she greets softly, “how was your sleep?”

I give a small smile while she brushes my bangs out of my eyes. “My dearest mother, of course I had a good no- magical sleep, in thanks to our quiet neighbors, cussing each other out.”

She chuckles, amusement creeping into her eyes, before rolling them, quickly hugging me, and tying her dark brown hair into a bun. “I’m glad you had a magical sleep. If you’ll excuse me, I’ll resume in cleaning this dream house. I hope you have a nice day at school sweety.”

I snickered, seeing where I get my sarcasm, sass, and wit from. But I wonder where I get my mischief and attitude from? Probably from grandma, who, for your information, is one hell of an elder, and that’s a compliment coming from me. I nod, and move to the side, allowing her to go into the dimly lit halls. She’s shorter than me by around six inches. Huh, never realized that.

With a sigh, I quickly ransack the cupboards until I found a granola bar that was gonna expire tomorrow. After munching it down, I ran out of the kitchen, avoided the bottles and remnants of some, kiss my mom on the cheek, lace my black and white Converse, and run out with the keys in hand.

When I get outside, I‘m immediately hit with the autumn air, and leaves on the porch. Whelp, looks like I’ll have to sweep this shit up when I get back. I fumbl with the keys as I lock the door, grab my skateboard, and jump off the stairs and onto my board.

As I glide through the leaf filled road, I stuck my earphones into my phone and put them on. I began scrolling through my playlist, before pressing one of my favorite songs, Victorious* by Panic! At the Disco. Stuffing the phone into my back pocket, the song begins flowing into my ears as I begin to sing it to myself in a whisper.