I walk to the school, arms crossed over my body and jacket tight around my torso. My dyed black hair covers my purple-rimmed eye and make-up covers the rest. Arriving, I push my way through the hallways and look for a familiar face.
I'm never what I like I'm double sided And I just can't hide I kind of like it When I make you cry 'Cause I'm twisted up, twisted up Inside
Late to school, I get there during second period. I take out a fake tardy pass and the teacher glances at it before nodding and throwing it in the trash.
I smirk and make my way to the last seat in the back, plopping down and immidiatly zoning out. Blah, Blah, Blah...
All you need is faith, trust, and a little bit of pixie-dust!
Twenty years from now you will be more disappointed by the things you didn't do than by the ones you did. So throw off the bowlines, sail away from the safe harbor. Catch the trade winds in your sails. Explore. Dream. — Mark Twain