17 year old female

Living on the west coast of Alaska

Very lonely, with the sound of silence.

I sit behind a fake name, behind a screen.

With little prompts that appear.

I sit, here I sit.

Listening to the sound of the ocean

reach to the shore.

I find company in literature.

Book after book.

Story after story.

I live with five dogs, funny, right?

In a family of 10, I think I've counted right.

Snow lasts from late September through early June, sometimes.

Born in the month of July.

I eat pizza with a fork, ice cream too.

I'm nothing of importance.

Just another person.

Converting oxygen into carbon dioxide.

Did I mention I love a good joke?

My favorite books are of the Classical Literature.

Often, I steal library books to fill my weekend too often.

Don't worry, I return them the very next day.

For now,

I suppose that's all I have to say.

Sheltered from the storms of life

I sit

Waiting

For the seas to calm

Waves created from turmoil

Misplaced expectations

As life and death battle for victory

A spectator waiting for the finale

Bored by what most consider thrilling

Entertained by the ordinary

Crying until my breath gives way

Laughing until I do the same

A roller coaster full of turns

Blindfolded and backwards

dawned in darkness

while bathed in light

Blessed with curses

And cursed with blessings

Biding my time

Until the perfect shell

Shatters again

Hoping

I will be able to find all of the pieces

Knowing it is okay

Even if I don't

I was brought up in this world feeling lost and sad,

I fell so hard nothing could help-not even knee pads.

I hung around the wrong crowd,

Knowing I wasn't aloud.

I dropped out of High School,

I thought I was too cool.

I was into drinking and drugs,

An only dated thugs.

Constantly searching for a medicine to take away the pain,

What I found was heroin and cocaine.

At first it made me feel alive,

Escalating quickly to I needed it to survive.

Which led me to jail and rehab centers,

Abandoned buildings that no one would want to enter.

Thankfully Today I'm a year clean,

The only chemicals in my body are nicotine and caffeine.

I have none. I'd rather be a riddle than a novel. My life is a giant plot hole, anyways. I want to be analyzed, not narrated. I want to be loved like one loves a piece of kitsch art, a silver rabbit or a cheap snowglobe. I mean a lot in how little I am.

I guess my history or herstory or theirstory could start years ago, when I first got taught about art. I viewed it with a bit of bitterness, and our teacher did the same. I hated art class while I grew up. Why would anyone, I thought, devote their time creativity?. Now I know why.

You can't make a career having sparks on your head. You have to give people those sparks. You have to channel them. You have to teach.

That's why I'm teaching you my "story," which begun in a cramped up classroom with a bitter teacher.

My Father was in the army, my Mother.. Let's just stick to "exotic dancer" for now. Well in Atlanta Georgia, everyone is out to get to lucky. Which my Dad was. I was a one night stand mistake, a latex malfunction. I was born dirt poor. I mean DIRT DIRT poor.

I lived in a small shed infested with spiders, with a radio that has two sounds. The ocean, and thunderstorms. Because of this, everything involving water makes me happy. I liked my middle name more, because it sounded like my favorite noise ever, Rane.

Outside of this shack was a community of acid droppers all together to enjoy life. Very, amazing place, must I say.

At 2 or 3 years old my Dad finally found out I exist, and after meeting me, he knew from the look in my face I'm his son. At 5 years old he realized something. I'm still being breastfeed, nobody is pottytraining me, all I say is a few random phrases, over and over. "No mo monsta?" (From scooby doo) "I dub deb scooby doo" (nobody knows) "Bloody rags!" (One of the reasons people thought I was possessed, insane, or a sidekick)

Due to my mother's lack of educating me, my Dad took custody at 5. He put me into kindergarten, which I failed the first time. The next three years after was a painful cycle of hearing and understanding, but unable to talk. I was tested positive 4 times for ADHD, 5 for ADD, no need to test for my OCD, and Doctor's couldn't really tell, but warned I'm likely autistic.

I was middle class at the time, I didn't do much except cry, run, and end up in the principle's office every week.

At 5th grade my Dad made a game, "Mafia Mofo." At first it was whatever, but only a few weeks. Out of nowhere it gave us millions on top of millions of dollars. Due to that, we moved to the West side of the tracks, the rich side, the worst 3 years of my life.

I just so happened to be falling into Middle School at the time.

Horrible strep throat, so I missed the first two weeks. Once I came in there were people everywhere, they were all pretty with their expensive clothes and nice hair, but their insides, horrible. I wanted to be them, they were the cool kids, but it only took a few weeks until I was the bottom of the food chain. They bullied me daily, I got into fights weekly. A month later I was at church in a garden and 6 came up and beat me to pulp. Two months later a group had a small C02 pistol, shot me down while I was riding my bike in the neighborhood. Nobody helped me. Nobody.

I lived those 3 years trying to cool, getting hurt badly, and getting odd ways of happiness. In 7th I shoplifted from every store, because I had no other way to get a rush feeling. I was amazing too, I never got caught. In 8th I would sneak out and walk 16 miles at midnight to my girlfriend at the time. In 6th grade I got a girlfriend of 1 year in Canada, whom I've still never met, yet I still talk to the past.. 5 years. I never told her how shitty my life was, I never really.. mentioned it. I just loved her presence, her adorable face, her sweet little Canadian accent.

Highschool came rolling around and I don't know what clicked, but I changed. I told myself it's time to stand, it's time to stop trying to be cool, it's time to start being happy.

I walked in the first day, saw a staircase I thought led to my first class, to smash right into a junior who beat me shitless in 6th grade. He started to talk, he was about to bully me. No. Act Rane, now. I raised my foot and kicked his knee, grabbed his shoulder straps and swung him around me down the flight of steps. My kick folded his knee backwards, and the steps put him somewhat in a body caste.

Sure, I got suspended, but everyone knew. I was tired of it. Fuck with me and I'll take everything you've ever done and make you regret all inches of it. Sadly, the ego got me expelled, got caught with a knife because the Uptown gang (which was nothing compared to all the other gangs in that town. Crips, Aces, a few Blood, -47's, and about 15 more) were pissed at me, I do not remember why.

Luckily, I got a fresh start. My Dad moved up to Illinois last June, and brought me. I got a whole new start, I can be whatever I want. So now, I am the most well known and respected kid in my town and most other towns around me. I used to be labeled "gay, weak, stupid, ugly, fag, no-swag, ect." Now my name spins around as "Politely mannered, southern boy, cut runner, different, interestesting, cute/hot, nice, respectful, ect."

I apologize for making this writing so endlessly long, I'm just a lover for details.