bixby
gucci jetski
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- Thread starter bixby
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bixby
gucci jetski
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monday
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aurnia
the heartbreak prince
"And please don't forget that we have guidance counselors on campus for any of you who are in need."
The principal's words sounded far away, echoing in the background of Rey's own thoughts. Eight days didn't seem fair enough time for her to mourn the closest thing she could say she had to a best friend. Sure they didn't know each other's ins and outs, but Dalton had been the one person Rey could count on to always be there for her, and she could say without a doubt that she would always be there for him. He was the first guy who had become friends with her without wanting anything more, and she couldn't say she would've wanted anything different. He didn't want to 'tame the crazy heartbreaker', after all he had had a girlfriend when she met him. Her vision blurred for the thousandth time that day, and she was glad she had thought to not put on any mascara. Sniffling quietly, she ran her finger along the edge of the polaroid photo in her hands. She had taken it down from her wall to carry with her that day, because her own surprised face and Dalton's ridiculous grin made her smile.
That day Dalton had stopped by Rey's house, and she had decided they were going to bake something. She didn't often bake, but her mother had just taught her how to make her 'world-class' chai tea cookies, and Rey wanted to show off her skills. While the cookies were baking, Rey had been minding her own business, eating the left over cookie batter when Dalton sprang on her and wrapped his arm around her neck, her camera in his other hand. The flash had gone off before Rey could react, creating her deer-in-the-headlights expression as it was in the photo before her. It was blurry and ridiculous, and she still had a bit of flour across her chin, but it was probably one of her most prized possessions, and she thought of it as the best photo in the world.
A new voice, different than the principal's, snapped Rey back to the present, and she tore her eyes away from the photo in her lap to gaze onto something that made her heart break almost as much; Ivy James. With her beautiful eyes watery and showing the same amount of devastation Rey felt, times a thousand.
"Thank you all for coming. Dalton would have been so pleased to know that he had a support system like this. All these people who loved him. And he loved all of you, too. It's hard to name a person who Dalton didn't love."
Ivy paused, and the distress in her voice, in her eyes, and in her very being that Rey could see so clearly tore at her like a knife. She'd only had small conversations here and there with the girl, being either too timid to say anything, or spending time with Dalton instead- or both, but she couldn't help but feel this girl had a piece of her heart. It was definitely crazy.
"My brother was the kindest, most warmhearted person I've ever known-" Rey could feel tears well up in her eyes again at Ivy's words, agreeing whole-heartedly,"-Being with him was my definition of happiness. He was, to put it in the simplest of terms, my soulmate. I would have killed for him."
Another pause, this one seeming more apprehensive than emotional.
"It breaks my heart to know that I'll never hear the front door opening in the wee hours of the morning to hear him leaving for one of his midnight walks. I'll never hear the muffled sound of his rock music coming from his bedroom door. I'll never..." Ivy hadn't stopped talking, but while it hadn't totally been by choice, Rey had stopped listening.
Her sadness overwhelmed her, and new tears fell over her raw cheeks and fell to her lap. Muffling her sobs with her jacket sleeve, she tried to sink back into the bleachers the best she could, didn't dare to look up from the photo she now held clutched in her left hand. It wasn't fair. None of it was.
Before Rey was prepared for, the staff concluded the assembly and dismissed the crowd of students. Some stood and hurried away from the auditorium as if it were on fire, some made their way slowly out- with the weight of the world seeming to weigh them down, and some sat frozen in their seats. Rey was one of the few still sitting, though unlike some of the faces around her, her motivation for this wasn't shock- it was denial. If she stood and left the auditorium that meant it was real. If she got to her next class and Dalton wasn't sitting exactly four seats ahead and one seat to the left from her, that meant it was real. Rey didn't want it to be real, she refused to let it be real.
The principal's words sounded far away, echoing in the background of Rey's own thoughts. Eight days didn't seem fair enough time for her to mourn the closest thing she could say she had to a best friend. Sure they didn't know each other's ins and outs, but Dalton had been the one person Rey could count on to always be there for her, and she could say without a doubt that she would always be there for him. He was the first guy who had become friends with her without wanting anything more, and she couldn't say she would've wanted anything different. He didn't want to 'tame the crazy heartbreaker', after all he had had a girlfriend when she met him. Her vision blurred for the thousandth time that day, and she was glad she had thought to not put on any mascara. Sniffling quietly, she ran her finger along the edge of the polaroid photo in her hands. She had taken it down from her wall to carry with her that day, because her own surprised face and Dalton's ridiculous grin made her smile.
That day Dalton had stopped by Rey's house, and she had decided they were going to bake something. She didn't often bake, but her mother had just taught her how to make her 'world-class' chai tea cookies, and Rey wanted to show off her skills. While the cookies were baking, Rey had been minding her own business, eating the left over cookie batter when Dalton sprang on her and wrapped his arm around her neck, her camera in his other hand. The flash had gone off before Rey could react, creating her deer-in-the-headlights expression as it was in the photo before her. It was blurry and ridiculous, and she still had a bit of flour across her chin, but it was probably one of her most prized possessions, and she thought of it as the best photo in the world.
A new voice, different than the principal's, snapped Rey back to the present, and she tore her eyes away from the photo in her lap to gaze onto something that made her heart break almost as much; Ivy James. With her beautiful eyes watery and showing the same amount of devastation Rey felt, times a thousand.
"Thank you all for coming. Dalton would have been so pleased to know that he had a support system like this. All these people who loved him. And he loved all of you, too. It's hard to name a person who Dalton didn't love."
Ivy paused, and the distress in her voice, in her eyes, and in her very being that Rey could see so clearly tore at her like a knife. She'd only had small conversations here and there with the girl, being either too timid to say anything, or spending time with Dalton instead- or both, but she couldn't help but feel this girl had a piece of her heart. It was definitely crazy.
"My brother was the kindest, most warmhearted person I've ever known-" Rey could feel tears well up in her eyes again at Ivy's words, agreeing whole-heartedly,"-Being with him was my definition of happiness. He was, to put it in the simplest of terms, my soulmate. I would have killed for him."
Another pause, this one seeming more apprehensive than emotional.
"It breaks my heart to know that I'll never hear the front door opening in the wee hours of the morning to hear him leaving for one of his midnight walks. I'll never hear the muffled sound of his rock music coming from his bedroom door. I'll never..." Ivy hadn't stopped talking, but while it hadn't totally been by choice, Rey had stopped listening.
Her sadness overwhelmed her, and new tears fell over her raw cheeks and fell to her lap. Muffling her sobs with her jacket sleeve, she tried to sink back into the bleachers the best she could, didn't dare to look up from the photo she now held clutched in her left hand. It wasn't fair. None of it was.
Before Rey was prepared for, the staff concluded the assembly and dismissed the crowd of students. Some stood and hurried away from the auditorium as if it were on fire, some made their way slowly out- with the weight of the world seeming to weigh them down, and some sat frozen in their seats. Rey was one of the few still sitting, though unlike some of the faces around her, her motivation for this wasn't shock- it was denial. If she stood and left the auditorium that meant it was real. If she got to her next class and Dalton wasn't sitting exactly four seats ahead and one seat to the left from her, that meant it was real. Rey didn't want it to be real, she refused to let it be real.
code by Ri.a
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nymphadora.
𝙨𝙚𝙚 𝙮𝙤𝙪, 𝙨𝙥𝙖𝙘𝙚 𝙘𝙤𝙬𝙗𝙤𝙮.
``
scully smith.
MarkNorbert
Senior Member
A white hallway. A long, white hallway, covered in a sinister atmosphere with a penetrating coldness that the man couldn’t grasp it’s understanding. He inspected his eerie surroundings in search for something to lock his eyes on, to escape his awfully confused thoughts and to understand the obscured situation that he unwillingly found himself into. In the empty distance, muffled voices echoed through his attentive ears, gently becoming more comprehensive and he began to make out the frightening sentences. You left him to die, you were useless, you are utterly unreliable, he is dead because of you. A soft voice, deep back in his head echoed, muffled. His tired legs suddenly began to violently tremble when a consuming pitch-black cloud emerged from the white walls, sucking in everything they stepped on. He stood there, motionless, screaming at himself to move, but no matter how loud was his cracking voice, his traitorous legs betrayed him and remained unmoved. The dark cloud was rapidly approaching him, with his heart pushing herself to break away from his chest, his eyes surrendering and closing, accepting his fate that the clouds unknowingly bestowed upon him. A familiar voice called out, at first, muffed and low, but gradually growing louder and clearer, clearer and with a hollow gulp, he opened his eyes.
“Dad! Wake the fuck up.” Dale called out, his hands holding Jack’s shoulders, shaking him violently.
“I’m awake, I’m awake.” Jack yelled, pulling himself up from the sofa, covered in sweat. “What happened?” he asked, wiping the sweat off his forehead.
“You were shaking like crazy. You okay?” Dale asked worryingly, patting his father on the shoulder. “Let me get you a clean towel.” he rushed towards the bathroom, leaving Jack to gather his thoughts.
“Aren’t you supposed to be going to school?” he tossed his blanket aside and stood up, pulling up his sweaty blue t-shirt and wiped some sweat off his body.
“Still got time. Here.” Dale returned with a large towel, passing it fast to Jack. “I’m taking old Betty with me.”
Old Betty, as the two called her, was the Erickson’s shitty, rusty, almost falling apart pick-up truck. No one knows why they still willingly hold onto it, perhaps not even themselves don’t know the reason why. Jack blankly stared at Dale for a good minute until his son made a move, walking straight to the kitchen.
“I hope you aren’t picking Samantha with Old Betty. Spare yourself the embarrassment.” Jack said muffled, the towel concealing his words slightly.
“Why would I pick up Samantha? What you on about?” Dale asked puzzled, his eyebrow raised. “Dad, I swear, if you start again with finding a distraction or a replacement for Cindy, then you aren’t helping.” Dale tossed a 1l bottle of water towards his father, visibly angered now.
“Anything works, right? Something to get her off your mind.” Jack raised his hands, defensively.
“I’m off. Go take a shower or something. And good day at work.” Dale threw a punch at a slow pace.
He walked outside and got inside the rusty lick-up truck, attempting to roar the engine alive. Only.at the fifth attempt did the car shaked, coming back to life and Dale quickly drove off, heading towards the mourning, annoying school. A new school year was up and it arrived with a shock. The Church Point superstar, the golden boy, the ladies man, the most successful teenager from school, the perfect specimen and the most hated person from Dale’s miserable life. Everyone was mourning him, even those who barely knew him personally, like a horde of sheep or how Dale would say it, like a bunch of fucking butt-licking losers. It wasn’t rather crystal clear to him if others knew that he started to openly hate Dalton. Why wouldn't he furiously hate the guy? He beat him up at absolutely everything, there wasn’t anything Dale could possibly do to get close into defeating him, but that wasn’t the reason he hated the guy. Dale actually enjoyed having Dalton as an obstacle, something to remind me that I need to do better, he kept reminding himself. The unknown reason for this stupid hatred he beared for him came from Cindy’s one-sided crush on him and her suffering for not having Dalton accept her feelings. The guy attempted numerous times to tell.Cindy that he wasn’t interested, but she just didn’t get it. And when Dalton disappeared, Cindy went straight off into depression, no longer holding any social interaction with anyone, not even her parents. And when the horrible news hit the town, it cannon balled into Cindy so deep to the point that she threatened her parents that if they wouldn't move house immediately, she would do something her family would regret. It was a shock for her parents and for Dale as well. He wished that he could have been there for her, but she turned him down. It was pointless.
Dale’s brown irises stared blankly through the dirt-covered windshield of his old, rusty, terribly silver coloured pickup truck, shyly parked at the end of Beaumont parking lot. The troubled teenager wasted his precious time in his father’s vehicle, with the newest song he constantly found himself putting on repeat, Deadly Conversations by Slaves blasting through the ancient stereo speakers in a cheap, poor performance, giving the band a poor name thanks to the pickup truck’s shitty condition. He did not appear to be bothered by it in the slightest, instead, he carefully paid attention to the song’s lyrics, which gave him the dull impression that the song was completely written for him. Cindy’s disappearance from Church Point weighted heavily on his broken soul. With an unphysical painful groan, he killed the vehicle’s engine and violently opened the truck’s rusty door and ejected himself out of the truck, lazily sliding his black backpack on his shoulder and shut the door, locking it behind him. He did not bother one bit to attend the memorial and couldn't care less what others thought about his decision. Dalton was the reason why Cindy got hurt. Dalton was the reason for the Dalton crush-on effect, a term Dale himself invented, where pretty much every single girl in Church Point had a crush on him at one point or another in their lives. Could you blame them? Dale was sure that if he was a girl, in a parallel universe, he too might have been in love with him. But Dale lived in male Dale universe and the school was mourning Dalton and pointed fingers at Jack, for his so called failure to find and save the Church Point superstar, which angered Dale immeasurably.
His feet dragged him into the school’s courtyard and effortlessly scanning his silent surroundings, Dale picked a spot covered in shade and threw his backpack next to the spot he sat on. Pulling his smartphone out of his loose pockets, he quickly sent Zander, his childhood friend and best friend, a message asking him about his whereabouts before he laid down on the grass, using his arms as substitutes for a pillow and stared at the black clouds above him, asking himself when will the rain start. He didn’t feel like attending the memorial, he didn't feel like talking to anybody about Dalton, he didn't feel like socializing with anyone, he didn’t feel staying at school at all.
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mikaluvkitties
Professional Unicorn Lover
Keira Winston
Golden State of Mind
from behind the curtains, principal liem's voice was sharp and clear, and even though his speech lingered in the air while the student body grew uncomfortably silent, none of his words made any sense to skylar. as the blonde girl sat quietly at the back of the stage, hidden from the public's eye, she could only think about one thing, the same very thing she's been nonstop thinking about ever since about ten days ago, dalton. she remembered seeing him in her bed this morning. when they were together, she often snuck over to his place, although sometimes he would spend the night at her's. he usually woke her up with a kiss on the cheek, but somedays she would be the one to wake him by leaning over and resting her head on his broad shoulders. this morning, waking up from crying herself to sleep the night before, she rolled over, hoping it was just all a dream. skylar could still feel his presence next to her in her bed, and for a moment there, she saw him.
"wow, morning babe, looks like sleeping beauty slept well."
"d?" she asked, seeing his boyish grin and hearing his soft chuckle echo in her head. skylar reached out to stroke his face, but in a split second, he was gone. the image in her mind disappeared into thin air, and the tears from last night reappeared and streamed down her face. there was nothing there. it was only in her dreams.
"and now, please give your attention to a fellow student and someone very close to dalton, senior class president, ivy james."
skylar snapped out of her train of thought as the principal concluded his speech and introduced ivy. she now remembered how she somehow managed to get herself out of bed and ready for school. she remembered why she was really here. she knew she had to be at the memorial, but not just for dalton, for ivy too. she had to be strong for both of them. she had to do it, no matter how hard it was. dalton was strong for her, so she had to be strong for him in return. she sat still and silently, trying to hold all her emotions in as she listened to the speech.
"dalton would have been so pleased to know that he had a support system like this. all these people who loved him. and he loved all of you, too. it's hard to name a person who dalton didn't love."
she could feel her hands ball up into fists and her acrylic nails dig into her palms. she tried to push the thought of him out of the way, but it was still very visible in the back of her mind. she wanted to feel numb to the pain. it hurt every time she heard his name, but she couldn't cry anymore tears. she felt as if she was holding her breath and if her feelings were trapped inside of her.
somewhere along the line, skylar stopped listening to ivy's speech and tried to distract herself in an effort to prevent herself from breaking down by looking down at her hands and repeatedly twisting the ring on her finger. the ring was a promise ring, and ever since his disappearance, she has't taken off the ring or the locket he gave her.
"if you know anything, about who did this, please, i'm begging you - tell the police. do it for me, do it for my family, do it for dalton's friends, and most of all, do it for dalton. help me make this right."
slipping a piece of hair that was blocking her vision behind her ear, skylar looked up to see ivy stumble to the back of the stage. she immediately got up and rushed to meet her. as she ran toward her best friend to join her, she could hear her heels click on the ground followed by the sound of herself plopping down onto the floor next to her best friend as she wrapped her arms around her. she gasped seeing the tears pouring down her face like a waterfall. after finally seeing ivy looking so broken and vulnerable, skylar's heart broke, and she couldn't feel numb anymore. she couldn't bear to see her best friend in this state and on the floor sobbing like this. she felt her heart aching, and it was as if it was about to break into a million pieces.
she tried to do everything in her power to stay strong for ivy, but although she managed to hold it together and hold in all her tears during the speech, she finally let herself feel whatever she was feeling and express her emotions. tears began to fill her baby blue eyes and her memories came flooding back. a tear rolled down her cheek, and before she knew it, one by one they continued to fall, streaming down her face as she buried her face in ivy's shoulder, letting them flow freely. it seemed like all at once, all her memories of dalton came back into her mind. she thought that after 10 days straight of crying, she'd be done, but it wasn't over. she just wanted it all to be over. dalton and all the memories of going to the beach, nights under the stars, drives along highway 1, dinners at the diner, and secret trips with him will always be apart of skylar. the girl needed the cops to find the person out there who would do such a horrible thing to dalton and to put them away, serving them justice. that would give her closure and put her finally at peace.
the blonde, breathing heavily, looked down at ivy, not knowing what to say to comfort her best friend. she could just say that "it'd be okay", but she knew damn well that it wasn't true, and she couldn't lie to her like that. skye knew it wouldn't help. she tried to say something, but it was interrupted by her own sobs. nothing would come out. all skylar could do was feel sorry for her best friend, sorry for dalton, sorry for herself, and sorry for the world. she saw how fragile ivy looked, and she couldn't do anything about it but be there and support her. it must've been so difficult to have done what she had just done. she had to go up in front of all her peers to talk about her murdered twin brother while everyone stared at her, seeing dalton, as she broke down.
she was thankful that she was able to be backstage as a support system for ivy, but it was also for herself. she knew that she wasn't ready to see everyone's faces, be in the crowd without him, watch ivy slowly deteriorate throughout her speech, and be vulnerable in front of the whole school. the looks of pity ivy got must've been the worst, and she didn't want everyone to look at her like she was dalton's widow or something.
"dalton...would've been proud," she managed to say, choking on her own tears, trying to comfort her.
"c'mon, ive... we gotta... get to class," she said doing her best to swallow her tears.
she wanted to just sit there on the ground with her and stay there for the rest of time, but she knew they had to be somewhere. their families and the student body counted on them to uphold their reputation.
"wow, morning babe, looks like sleeping beauty slept well."
"d?" she asked, seeing his boyish grin and hearing his soft chuckle echo in her head. skylar reached out to stroke his face, but in a split second, he was gone. the image in her mind disappeared into thin air, and the tears from last night reappeared and streamed down her face. there was nothing there. it was only in her dreams.
"and now, please give your attention to a fellow student and someone very close to dalton, senior class president, ivy james."
skylar snapped out of her train of thought as the principal concluded his speech and introduced ivy. she now remembered how she somehow managed to get herself out of bed and ready for school. she remembered why she was really here. she knew she had to be at the memorial, but not just for dalton, for ivy too. she had to be strong for both of them. she had to do it, no matter how hard it was. dalton was strong for her, so she had to be strong for him in return. she sat still and silently, trying to hold all her emotions in as she listened to the speech.
"dalton would have been so pleased to know that he had a support system like this. all these people who loved him. and he loved all of you, too. it's hard to name a person who dalton didn't love."
she could feel her hands ball up into fists and her acrylic nails dig into her palms. she tried to push the thought of him out of the way, but it was still very visible in the back of her mind. she wanted to feel numb to the pain. it hurt every time she heard his name, but she couldn't cry anymore tears. she felt as if she was holding her breath and if her feelings were trapped inside of her.
somewhere along the line, skylar stopped listening to ivy's speech and tried to distract herself in an effort to prevent herself from breaking down by looking down at her hands and repeatedly twisting the ring on her finger. the ring was a promise ring, and ever since his disappearance, she has't taken off the ring or the locket he gave her.
"if you know anything, about who did this, please, i'm begging you - tell the police. do it for me, do it for my family, do it for dalton's friends, and most of all, do it for dalton. help me make this right."
slipping a piece of hair that was blocking her vision behind her ear, skylar looked up to see ivy stumble to the back of the stage. she immediately got up and rushed to meet her. as she ran toward her best friend to join her, she could hear her heels click on the ground followed by the sound of herself plopping down onto the floor next to her best friend as she wrapped her arms around her. she gasped seeing the tears pouring down her face like a waterfall. after finally seeing ivy looking so broken and vulnerable, skylar's heart broke, and she couldn't feel numb anymore. she couldn't bear to see her best friend in this state and on the floor sobbing like this. she felt her heart aching, and it was as if it was about to break into a million pieces.
she tried to do everything in her power to stay strong for ivy, but although she managed to hold it together and hold in all her tears during the speech, she finally let herself feel whatever she was feeling and express her emotions. tears began to fill her baby blue eyes and her memories came flooding back. a tear rolled down her cheek, and before she knew it, one by one they continued to fall, streaming down her face as she buried her face in ivy's shoulder, letting them flow freely. it seemed like all at once, all her memories of dalton came back into her mind. she thought that after 10 days straight of crying, she'd be done, but it wasn't over. she just wanted it all to be over. dalton and all the memories of going to the beach, nights under the stars, drives along highway 1, dinners at the diner, and secret trips with him will always be apart of skylar. the girl needed the cops to find the person out there who would do such a horrible thing to dalton and to put them away, serving them justice. that would give her closure and put her finally at peace.
the blonde, breathing heavily, looked down at ivy, not knowing what to say to comfort her best friend. she could just say that "it'd be okay", but she knew damn well that it wasn't true, and she couldn't lie to her like that. skye knew it wouldn't help. she tried to say something, but it was interrupted by her own sobs. nothing would come out. all skylar could do was feel sorry for her best friend, sorry for dalton, sorry for herself, and sorry for the world. she saw how fragile ivy looked, and she couldn't do anything about it but be there and support her. it must've been so difficult to have done what she had just done. she had to go up in front of all her peers to talk about her murdered twin brother while everyone stared at her, seeing dalton, as she broke down.
she was thankful that she was able to be backstage as a support system for ivy, but it was also for herself. she knew that she wasn't ready to see everyone's faces, be in the crowd without him, watch ivy slowly deteriorate throughout her speech, and be vulnerable in front of the whole school. the looks of pity ivy got must've been the worst, and she didn't want everyone to look at her like she was dalton's widow or something.
"dalton...would've been proud," she managed to say, choking on her own tears, trying to comfort her.
"c'mon, ive... we gotta... get to class," she said doing her best to swallow her tears.
she wanted to just sit there on the ground with her and stay there for the rest of time, but she knew they had to be somewhere. their families and the student body counted on them to uphold their reputation.
The Great Goon Goblin
I’ll get you next time Spider-Man!
The echoes of the principal's shallow voice were dull and muffled in Samantha's ears as she stared glassy-eyed towards the podium. Frantically she brushed her index and middle fingers together to calm her nerves, turning her skin red. Dazed and confused, Samantha seemed unphased by her surroundings. All she could think of was Dalton James, and that he was gone...forever. That winning smile, his friendly personality; all gone. None of this seemed real, like a neverending nightmare for the past eight days.
"And please don't forget that we have guidance counselors on campus for any of you who are in need,"
What were guidance counselors going to do; bring back Dalton? Samantha refused to accept this, finding it hard to wrap her head around the thought. They weren't necessarily very close with each other, being at most good friends that occasionally talked. But, Sam was infatuated with the boy she considered her knight in shining armor. There was so much more she wanted to say, including how she honestly felt about him. Yet, those chances are gone now. Reeling the stress
The bitter memory of when she first discovered the news repeatedly played in her head, over, and over not wanting to leave. Witnessing that headline in the press followed by the gossip from her parents was overwhelming to bear. Both of her folks seemed clueless about helping Sam grieve, selfishly looking at the situation as either a benefit or burden. "This could be the largest case in my career!" Her mother cheered, while her father scowled disapprovingly. "Do you know how much negative press this could generate for Church Point?!" Samantha, on the other hand, drowned herself in tears sitting on the floor against her bedroom door every night. All of the anxiety and frustration led her to scratch the tops of her shoulders, leaving behind harsh scars.
Samantha snapped back to reality watching Ivy approach the podium. It was strange and heartbreaking to see her so distressed as she read her speech. Sam wasn't too fond of Ivy as they constantly butted heads, only appearing cordial in public to save face. Though, she couldn't imagine what Ivy was going through, to lose someone so close.
"If you know anything, about who did this, please, I'm begging you - tell the police. Do it for me, do it for my family, do it for Dalton's friends, and most of all, do it for Dalton. Help me make this right."
Those words hit Sam hard, feeling like the final nail in Dalton's coffin. The tears started to roll down Sam's cheeks, finding it difficult to stop. When everything came to a close, and the students were dismissed, Sam didn't know what to do with herself. Who could think of going to class after that emotional rollercoaster they were just put through? Getting up from her chair, Sam headed towards the hallways only to be halted by a large crowd that she didn't want to be part of. "So, the riots already started?" She mumbled sarcastically and annoyed.
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ALittleRedLie
fragile, handle with care
CiMarron Martin
| mood: upset, heartbroken | location: auditorium; random lot |
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That morning, CiMarron Martin stayed in the shower a lot longer than usual, so long that her father grew concerned. She refused to let anyone see her hurt. She did not need anyone to see her cry. But it was her father and he knew something was up.
"You okay, Sea Monkey?" The nickname did bring a small smile on CiCi's face, but a memory also accompanied it.
I'm okay, daddy. A falter.
"Is this about that Dalton boy?"
No. A pause. I didn't even know him.
And that's where she ended it, turning around and hiding herself in her room. For the rest of the early morning, CiMarron avoided both her father and grandmother. Eating cereal in silence, putting her shoes on in silence, grabbing her bag in silence, and heading out the door in silence. Everything else after that seemed to move in clockwork. The Southsider didn't formulate her movements, her drive to the school, the walk to the auditorium, sitting down and facing the podium.
She paid little attention to what the principal was saying, only scoffing at every typical, scripted word that he said. Other than that, she was devoid of any emotion. She refused to let anyone see her hurt. She did not need anyone to see her cry. So the moment when Ivy James mentioned the appreciation of Dalton's universal love, CiMarron bolted. It was easy for her since she sat right next to the exit, no one would notice, she could easily just disappear.
They said that she could sit in the courtyard if she didn't want to sit in the auditorium, but she wanted neigher, she wanted to be alone. Her feet carried her to her bike, and she swiftly threw her leg over it. Quickly, it was revved up and on its way to anywhere that didn't remind her of him.
Anywhere.
Anywhere.
Anywhere.
Nowhere.
Every place she went reminded her of Dalton. Why did she have to have him embedded into her life so damn much? The relationship of CiMarron Martin and Dalton James didn't even fucking exist. At least to everyone else. She couldn't be seen reacting to his death like this. Her eyes began to tear up at the thoughts of him swarming through her mind and she had to stop driving or she would've been in another accident. Slowly, she dismounts her back and sits next to the quiet bike, a pack of cigarettes were in her hand. They were still full cause she promised to quit smoking. She promised Dalton, the only person she could possibly call a friend. And she was doing good. But these last two weeks had tempted her.
So here she was crying next to her bike with a pack of cigarettes in her trembling hands.
CiMarron Martin was at the edge and Dalton James had brought her there.
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That morning, CiMarron Martin stayed in the shower a lot longer than usual, so long that her father grew concerned. She refused to let anyone see her hurt. She did not need anyone to see her cry. But it was her father and he knew something was up.
"You okay, Sea Monkey?" The nickname did bring a small smile on CiCi's face, but a memory also accompanied it.
I'm okay, daddy. A falter.
"Is this about that Dalton boy?"
No. A pause. I didn't even know him.
And that's where she ended it, turning around and hiding herself in her room. For the rest of the early morning, CiMarron avoided both her father and grandmother. Eating cereal in silence, putting her shoes on in silence, grabbing her bag in silence, and heading out the door in silence. Everything else after that seemed to move in clockwork. The Southsider didn't formulate her movements, her drive to the school, the walk to the auditorium, sitting down and facing the podium.
She paid little attention to what the principal was saying, only scoffing at every typical, scripted word that he said. Other than that, she was devoid of any emotion. She refused to let anyone see her hurt. She did not need anyone to see her cry. So the moment when Ivy James mentioned the appreciation of Dalton's universal love, CiMarron bolted. It was easy for her since she sat right next to the exit, no one would notice, she could easily just disappear.
They said that she could sit in the courtyard if she didn't want to sit in the auditorium, but she wanted neigher, she wanted to be alone. Her feet carried her to her bike, and she swiftly threw her leg over it. Quickly, it was revved up and on its way to anywhere that didn't remind her of him.
Anywhere.
Anywhere.
Anywhere.
Nowhere.
Every place she went reminded her of Dalton. Why did she have to have him embedded into her life so damn much? The relationship of CiMarron Martin and Dalton James didn't even fucking exist. At least to everyone else. She couldn't be seen reacting to his death like this. Her eyes began to tear up at the thoughts of him swarming through her mind and she had to stop driving or she would've been in another accident. Slowly, she dismounts her back and sits next to the quiet bike, a pack of cigarettes were in her hand. They were still full cause she promised to quit smoking. She promised Dalton, the only person she could possibly call a friend. And she was doing good. But these last two weeks had tempted her.
So here she was crying next to her bike with a pack of cigarettes in her trembling hands.
CiMarron Martin was at the edge and Dalton James had brought her there.
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[/div]code by alittlered
Last edited:
eclipsa
faerie sightings
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[div class=container3][div class=postbox1][div class=postbox2][div class=postbox3]citra dreaded school on a regular day. on a day like today? she'd rather die. unfortunately that wasn't an easily obtainable goal, so she slipped out of her room silently to refill her flask from her dad's tequila stash and hoped her father was already gone. a car ride with him today? enough to actually kill her.
no such luck, apparently.
"citra sudah terlambat Anda harus siap untuk pergi. hari ini adalah hari yang besar." he spoke his first tongue at home, as usual. it always sounded more stern to her. she hated it. especially when he yelled it from the front door as she tried to sneak out the back.
"saya tahu, saya tahu, saya siap untuk pergi." she found herself missing her sister, suddenly. kallisto had always known how to comfort her, and how to know when she was upset. despite the divide in their family to start, the two girls had bonded quickly, even with the older's disapproval of some of citra's hobbies. her father didn't even stop to think about the fact that maybe she was hurting from what had happened. the girl shook the thought off, tugging her beanie down on her ears further and tucking her flask into her purse.
she felt a movement at her legs and bent, her fingers coming through her cat's fur for a moment, "keep my bed warm, athena, okay? i'll be back before you know it and we'll just wallow in our eternal hatred of the world. don't break anything." with that, she pushed herself away from the back door and headed to the front door to leave with her father.
her earbuds went in and the song playing made her chest hurt. the last time she had hung out with dalton this was the song that was playing. they hadn't talked much, they had just listened to the music and enjoyed the fact that they had someone with them when the world was at its quietest. when they were at their lowest. they had sat on the beach that night. a week before he went missing. her chest hurt again.
she slid into a seat next to zander in the auditorium, and if she's honest, she dissociated her way through the whole thing. probably for the best, she wasn't a pretty crier. lord knows she's done enough crying at home, anyway. when the people started moving she slipped her flask to zander. "i feel like this is the perfect occasion to drink in school for." with a sad smile.
he'd been there for her for longer than anyone would have guessed, and she'd been there for him just as long. when it came down to it, she'd take a bullet for the boy sitting next to her, without any hesitation or remorse. "dad's tequila, so it's top notch. kallisto promised to bring me some gin when she comes home in a couple weeks."[/div][/div][/div][/div][div class=container2][div class=picbox][/div][div class=statsbox1][div class=statsbox2][div class=statsbox3]apparel: x
mood: lololololololol
location: auditorium
mentions: zander
tags:
Foxagon
translations:
"citra sudah terlambat Anda harus siap untuk pergi. hari ini adalah hari yang besar." = "citra it's getting late you need to be ready to go. today is a big day."
"saya tahu, saya tahu, saya siap untuk pergi." = "i know, i know, i'm ready to go."
[/div][/div][/div][/div][/div]
[div class=container]
CITRA
[div class=1][/div][div class=2][/div][div class=3][/div][div class=1][/div][div class=2][/div][div class=3][/div][div class=1][/div][div class=2][/div][div class=3][/div][div class=1][/div][div class=2][/div][div class=3][/div][div class=1][/div][div class=2][/div][div class=3][/div][div class=1][/div][div class=2][/div][div class=3][/div][div class=1][/div]
[/div][div class=container3][div class=postbox1][div class=postbox2][div class=postbox3]citra dreaded school on a regular day. on a day like today? she'd rather die. unfortunately that wasn't an easily obtainable goal, so she slipped out of her room silently to refill her flask from her dad's tequila stash and hoped her father was already gone. a car ride with him today? enough to actually kill her.
no such luck, apparently.
"citra sudah terlambat Anda harus siap untuk pergi. hari ini adalah hari yang besar." he spoke his first tongue at home, as usual. it always sounded more stern to her. she hated it. especially when he yelled it from the front door as she tried to sneak out the back.
"saya tahu, saya tahu, saya siap untuk pergi." she found herself missing her sister, suddenly. kallisto had always known how to comfort her, and how to know when she was upset. despite the divide in their family to start, the two girls had bonded quickly, even with the older's disapproval of some of citra's hobbies. her father didn't even stop to think about the fact that maybe she was hurting from what had happened. the girl shook the thought off, tugging her beanie down on her ears further and tucking her flask into her purse.
she felt a movement at her legs and bent, her fingers coming through her cat's fur for a moment, "keep my bed warm, athena, okay? i'll be back before you know it and we'll just wallow in our eternal hatred of the world. don't break anything." with that, she pushed herself away from the back door and headed to the front door to leave with her father.
her earbuds went in and the song playing made her chest hurt. the last time she had hung out with dalton this was the song that was playing. they hadn't talked much, they had just listened to the music and enjoyed the fact that they had someone with them when the world was at its quietest. when they were at their lowest. they had sat on the beach that night. a week before he went missing. her chest hurt again.
she slid into a seat next to zander in the auditorium, and if she's honest, she dissociated her way through the whole thing. probably for the best, she wasn't a pretty crier. lord knows she's done enough crying at home, anyway. when the people started moving she slipped her flask to zander. "i feel like this is the perfect occasion to drink in school for." with a sad smile.
he'd been there for her for longer than anyone would have guessed, and she'd been there for him just as long. when it came down to it, she'd take a bullet for the boy sitting next to her, without any hesitation or remorse. "dad's tequila, so it's top notch. kallisto promised to bring me some gin when she comes home in a couple weeks."[/div][/div][/div][/div][div class=container2][div class=picbox][/div][div class=statsbox1][div class=statsbox2][div class=statsbox3]apparel: x
mood: lololololololol
location: auditorium
mentions: zander
tags:
Foxagon
translations:
"citra sudah terlambat Anda harus siap untuk pergi. hari ini adalah hari yang besar." = "citra it's getting late you need to be ready to go. today is a big day."
"saya tahu, saya tahu, saya siap untuk pergi." = "i know, i know, i'm ready to go."
[/div][/div][/div][/div][/div]
Last edited by a moderator:
Foxagon
i ain't got timmmmee
Zander Phyllus
Last edited:
eclipsa
faerie sightings
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[div class=container3][div class=postbox1][div class=postbox2][div class=postbox3]zander knew how to make citra's lips curl. "ooh, you're gonna get called to the guidance office if you keep it up. those sort of jokes don't sit well with," she looked around for affect before a whispered "northsiders" left her lips. she wasn't sure if the boy knew what dalton had meant to her, and she certainly wasn't sure if she wanted him to. honestly the whole situation was slowly making her mind fall apart.
"milkshakes?" she paused to deliberate, but once her eyes grazed across another familiar face in the crowd her answer was definite. scully. how long had it been since they had spoken? a pair of southside princesses who avoided the other like the plague. when citra first came to the school, after leaving her third, she made sure to make it clear that she wanted nothing to do with the girl. not after everything that happened.
looking at scully all she could see was brady. that summer day two years ago when the three of them were hanging out for the first time. scully had told citra that knew a great guy for her. after being friends most of their lives, citra trusted her. funny how that turned out, isn't it? the story was that citra was psycho, that she slashed his tires for no reason. scully hadn't been given a chance to react, citra ghosted her like an opera.
the pit in her stomach was getting deeper with every second in the building. "milkshakes sound perfect. let's go before one of us makes the wrong joke and i have to kick ass to save your hair."[/div][/div][/div][/div][div class=container2][div class=picbox][/div][div class=statsbox1][div class=statsbox2][div class=statsbox3]apparel: x
mood: lololololololol, but like, intensified?
location: auditorium
mentions: zander, scully
tags:
Foxagon
nymphadora.
[/div][/div][/div][/div][/div]
[div class=container]
CITRA
[div class=1][/div][div class=2][/div][div class=3][/div][div class=1][/div][div class=2][/div][div class=3][/div][div class=1][/div][div class=2][/div][div class=3][/div][div class=1][/div][div class=2][/div][div class=3][/div][div class=1][/div][div class=2][/div][div class=3][/div][div class=1][/div][div class=2][/div][div class=3][/div][div class=1][/div]
[/div][div class=container3][div class=postbox1][div class=postbox2][div class=postbox3]zander knew how to make citra's lips curl. "ooh, you're gonna get called to the guidance office if you keep it up. those sort of jokes don't sit well with," she looked around for affect before a whispered "northsiders" left her lips. she wasn't sure if the boy knew what dalton had meant to her, and she certainly wasn't sure if she wanted him to. honestly the whole situation was slowly making her mind fall apart.
"milkshakes?" she paused to deliberate, but once her eyes grazed across another familiar face in the crowd her answer was definite. scully. how long had it been since they had spoken? a pair of southside princesses who avoided the other like the plague. when citra first came to the school, after leaving her third, she made sure to make it clear that she wanted nothing to do with the girl. not after everything that happened.
looking at scully all she could see was brady. that summer day two years ago when the three of them were hanging out for the first time. scully had told citra that knew a great guy for her. after being friends most of their lives, citra trusted her. funny how that turned out, isn't it? the story was that citra was psycho, that she slashed his tires for no reason. scully hadn't been given a chance to react, citra ghosted her like an opera.
the pit in her stomach was getting deeper with every second in the building. "milkshakes sound perfect. let's go before one of us makes the wrong joke and i have to kick ass to save your hair."[/div][/div][/div][/div][div class=container2][div class=picbox][/div][div class=statsbox1][div class=statsbox2][div class=statsbox3]apparel: x
mood: lololololololol, but like, intensified?
location: auditorium
mentions: zander, scully
tags:
Foxagon
nymphadora.
[/div][/div][/div][/div][/div]
MarkNorbert
Senior Member
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His thoughts smoothly drifted to the abyss of his dreams, taking a long, deep breath, his chest pushing forward, and his overall horrible mood improving miraculously as Dale finally found a little peace of mind, something he wanted to quickly grasp for a very long time in this never ending sea of anger and hatred that he unwillingly found himself into, swimming helplessly without a set course, without any trace of land, without any hope. His father wasn’t feeling well, reaching the point of overworking himself for the stupid hit case Church Point had. His eating habits drastically changed, forcing Jack to lose a lot of weight. His normal sleep schedule was completely ruined, he was feeling more and more tired with each passing dreadful day and Dale hated watching from afar, not being able to reach his father, simply just sitting on an empty bench, not doing anything to aid the desperate man. He had to immediately change that. Don’t interfere with my work Dale, this isn’t your business, this isn’t you, Jack’s voice loudly echoed deeply in his distressing skull. Was he really not the real Dale if he somehow managed to help his father? Of course he was, he was the closest thing to the real Dale than anyone else. Of course he would happily help his father. But he obviously couldn’t do it alone, it wasn’t enough. He clearly needed help, but not from his father or his deputies or any other adults. Adults were too busy with their lives, with their duties to their jobs and families, they are and were too busy to see what was really going on in their innocent children’s happy lives to actually know what has going wrong. He needed help from those who were close to Dalton. He needed help from those Dale did not want to talk to. He needed a social butterfly, someone that knew all the details of everyone, someone who was a friend to all, but to none.
His phone buzzed a few times, Dale losing his focus on the somewhat empty plan. He reached out for his phone from his pockets and had a look, checking out the message he received from Zander. In the auditorium where you should be, the message read, clear as the day. Zander was at the memorial, so it seemed. Dale couldn’t possibly wrap his head around that awful idea, of why Zander was actually there, bothering himself with such pathetic activities with others who pretended to know the poor guy like they were related to him, like they were family. Some surely were. But not all. Hopefully. But that’s fucking boring dude, come on, Dale texted Zander back, with a faint smile on his face, swiftly standing up and tossing his black backpack on his back and jogged in the direction of Beaumont’s parking lot, for his truck. He widely opened the rusty door and carefully threw his backpack on the passenger’s seat and got in, roaring the car to life. Of course, after four attempts. I’m heading to Mearle’s. Can’t stand anyone today, sobbing like losers on their periods, you have fun and whatever, he sent one last text to Zander before rapidly pulling out of the parking lot and driving away.
It didn’t took him long enough to reach the drive-in and not even that long to park his truck close to the entrance of Mearle’s. It was by far, his second place to hang about and fool around when he wasn’t feeling like studying and a great place to socialize with almost anyone who walked inside the drive-in. Stepping out of his truck, with his backpack hanging on his shoulder and a hopeful smile on his face, Dale rushed inside the building, greeting the employees respectfully. He ordered a simple coffee, no milk, not to sweet, not to bitter either and went into the corner on the right side from the entrance. He sat down and opened his backpack, his laptop now revealed to the world and set in front of him. He adjusted it carefully to his left, turning it on and placed a notepad and a pencil to his right. He scribbled a few names on the notepad, possible suspects, as he called them and strangely, he wrote down his own name as well, for whatever odd reason. His laptop finally booted up and he quickly opened a few search browsers and wrote down Dalton’s name. He opened everything related to his death in separate tabs and wrote down a few more notes on his paper. For someone who probably stumbled on Dale, he might have looked like a complete maniac the way he was so focused and energetic in what was he doing, but they were up for a shocking surprise when Dale stopped dead in his tracks and stared at his expressionless reflection through the laptop’s monitor. What the fuck am I doing, his mind asked. He was deeply focused on his thoughts that he did not hear the waitress call him out, informing him of his order. Nodding embarrassed to her and throwing a smile in for effect, he returned back to his monitor and read the first article about his death. With a sip of his coffee, Dale reached for Dalton’s sister FaceBook account and scrolled down her posts, looking for something. Why Ivy’s FaceBook page and not Dalton’s, his inner self asked. What would be the point of looking into the social page of a dead guy, when the majority of the posts there were fake people writing all about their ridiculous sadness and drama. Who would even kill Dalton? Well, Dale knew they were some that might’ve done it. And he hated to admit it, but he also included himself in that bracket.
[/div]
[div class=minibox]Dale
Mearle’s
Foxagon
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[/div][div class=credits]credits
RI.a
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His thoughts smoothly drifted to the abyss of his dreams, taking a long, deep breath, his chest pushing forward, and his overall horrible mood improving miraculously as Dale finally found a little peace of mind, something he wanted to quickly grasp for a very long time in this never ending sea of anger and hatred that he unwillingly found himself into, swimming helplessly without a set course, without any trace of land, without any hope. His father wasn’t feeling well, reaching the point of overworking himself for the stupid hit case Church Point had. His eating habits drastically changed, forcing Jack to lose a lot of weight. His normal sleep schedule was completely ruined, he was feeling more and more tired with each passing dreadful day and Dale hated watching from afar, not being able to reach his father, simply just sitting on an empty bench, not doing anything to aid the desperate man. He had to immediately change that. Don’t interfere with my work Dale, this isn’t your business, this isn’t you, Jack’s voice loudly echoed deeply in his distressing skull. Was he really not the real Dale if he somehow managed to help his father? Of course he was, he was the closest thing to the real Dale than anyone else. Of course he would happily help his father. But he obviously couldn’t do it alone, it wasn’t enough. He clearly needed help, but not from his father or his deputies or any other adults. Adults were too busy with their lives, with their duties to their jobs and families, they are and were too busy to see what was really going on in their innocent children’s happy lives to actually know what has going wrong. He needed help from those who were close to Dalton. He needed help from those Dale did not want to talk to. He needed a social butterfly, someone that knew all the details of everyone, someone who was a friend to all, but to none.
His phone buzzed a few times, Dale losing his focus on the somewhat empty plan. He reached out for his phone from his pockets and had a look, checking out the message he received from Zander. In the auditorium where you should be, the message read, clear as the day. Zander was at the memorial, so it seemed. Dale couldn’t possibly wrap his head around that awful idea, of why Zander was actually there, bothering himself with such pathetic activities with others who pretended to know the poor guy like they were related to him, like they were family. Some surely were. But not all. Hopefully. But that’s fucking boring dude, come on, Dale texted Zander back, with a faint smile on his face, swiftly standing up and tossing his black backpack on his back and jogged in the direction of Beaumont’s parking lot, for his truck. He widely opened the rusty door and carefully threw his backpack on the passenger’s seat and got in, roaring the car to life. Of course, after four attempts. I’m heading to Mearle’s. Can’t stand anyone today, sobbing like losers on their periods, you have fun and whatever, he sent one last text to Zander before rapidly pulling out of the parking lot and driving away.
It didn’t took him long enough to reach the drive-in and not even that long to park his truck close to the entrance of Mearle’s. It was by far, his second place to hang about and fool around when he wasn’t feeling like studying and a great place to socialize with almost anyone who walked inside the drive-in. Stepping out of his truck, with his backpack hanging on his shoulder and a hopeful smile on his face, Dale rushed inside the building, greeting the employees respectfully. He ordered a simple coffee, no milk, not to sweet, not to bitter either and went into the corner on the right side from the entrance. He sat down and opened his backpack, his laptop now revealed to the world and set in front of him. He adjusted it carefully to his left, turning it on and placed a notepad and a pencil to his right. He scribbled a few names on the notepad, possible suspects, as he called them and strangely, he wrote down his own name as well, for whatever odd reason. His laptop finally booted up and he quickly opened a few search browsers and wrote down Dalton’s name. He opened everything related to his death in separate tabs and wrote down a few more notes on his paper. For someone who probably stumbled on Dale, he might have looked like a complete maniac the way he was so focused and energetic in what was he doing, but they were up for a shocking surprise when Dale stopped dead in his tracks and stared at his expressionless reflection through the laptop’s monitor. What the fuck am I doing, his mind asked. He was deeply focused on his thoughts that he did not hear the waitress call him out, informing him of his order. Nodding embarrassed to her and throwing a smile in for effect, he returned back to his monitor and read the first article about his death. With a sip of his coffee, Dale reached for Dalton’s sister FaceBook account and scrolled down her posts, looking for something. Why Ivy’s FaceBook page and not Dalton’s, his inner self asked. What would be the point of looking into the social page of a dead guy, when the majority of the posts there were fake people writing all about their ridiculous sadness and drama. Who would even kill Dalton? Well, Dale knew they were some that might’ve done it. And he hated to admit it, but he also included himself in that bracket.
[/div]
[div class=minibox]Dale
Mearle’s
Foxagon
[/div]
[/div][div class=credits]credits
RI.a
[/div]
Ariel
The Mermaid Slayer
ALittleRedLie
fragile, handle with care
CiMarron Martin
| mood: defeated, heartbroken, annoyed, void| location: random lot; school hallway | outfit : XX | tags:
The Great Goon Goblin
,
MarkNorbert
| interacts: Dale, Samantha |
The Great Goon Goblin
,
MarkNorbert
| interacts: Dale, Samantha |[class=container]
height: 175px;
width: 350px;
overflow: hidden;
background-color: transparent;
[/class][class=textbox]
height: 175px;
width: 350px;
overflow-y: scroll;
padding-right: 20px;
padding-left: 17px;
[/class][div class=container][div class=textbox]She left them there.
The cigarettes.
She decided that she wasn't going to break her promise. And she really couldn't smoke since the last time she checked Dalton had her lighter. He really didn't want her smoking. she chuckled at the thought. He really did want her to quit and she wasn't one to disappoint those that really mattered to her. Even if he was dead. So they sat on the empty lot as she drove away. After getting her shit together, she mounted her bike and made way back towards school. If her dad heard that she missed school, she'd be getting a mouthful.
When she pulled up to the school she first noticed Dale pulling out of the parking lot. Pulling out her phone she sends a text to Dale.
Ditching school? Who would've thought. Get me a burger.
She knew that he was heading there, that was basically the hang out of every teenager that lived here in Church Point. Yes, Dale was the sheriff's kid, but CiMarron like Jack, he kind of looked out for her when she was in the slammer for a day. After that every time she ran into him, which was mostly at the auto shop, she'd say hi. And Dale and her kind of became friends. Friends enough to be one of the three people that actually had her cell phone number.
She placed her phone back into her back pocket and then noticed a few looks from wandering, nosy teenagers. It wasn't necessarily alright to skip the memorial service, but it had to look like CiMarron didn't care. Cause she was that bitch. The bitch that didn't care, that didn't speak, that basically hated the whole population of Church Point - except for a selected few - and might as well be a member of the South Side gang. Despite the rumors of numerous different events from her killing someone to running a drug ring, CiMarron liked to be known as that bitch. It kept people away and everyone expected behavior where she didn't show up for a memorial.
CiMarron got off her bike on her own time and pulled out her purple bag from her storage compartment. Before she could put her matte, dark purple helmet into it's place, she saw the sleek black helmet that was sporting red letters which spelled out Dalton's name. It brought a small smile to her face as she remembered the first time he rode on her bike, he almost didn't because he refused to get on without a helmet. So she sped down to he nearest shop and bought him the black one, he later put his name on it. And after that he would join her on her bike when she had a day off. It slowed down a little recently, she never really found out why.
When someone passes and glances over at her, she quickly puts her helmet on top of his and slams the compartment closed. She stalks her way back up the cement stairs and yanks the door open, not bothering to open the door for anyone else. She walked down the hallway before Sam's lone figure caught her attention. She walked over and caught the last few words that left her lips.
High school at its finest. CiMarron murmured facing the girl that was slightly taller than her. She glanced over her features and when their eyes met she snapped them away. How're you?
width: 350px;
overflow: hidden;
background-color: transparent;
[/class][class=textbox]
height: 175px;
width: 350px;
overflow-y: scroll;
padding-right: 20px;
padding-left: 17px;
[/class][div class=container][div class=textbox]She left them there.
The cigarettes.
She decided that she wasn't going to break her promise. And she really couldn't smoke since the last time she checked Dalton had her lighter. He really didn't want her smoking. she chuckled at the thought. He really did want her to quit and she wasn't one to disappoint those that really mattered to her. Even if he was dead. So they sat on the empty lot as she drove away. After getting her shit together, she mounted her bike and made way back towards school. If her dad heard that she missed school, she'd be getting a mouthful.
When she pulled up to the school she first noticed Dale pulling out of the parking lot. Pulling out her phone she sends a text to Dale.
Ditching school? Who would've thought. Get me a burger.
She knew that he was heading there, that was basically the hang out of every teenager that lived here in Church Point. Yes, Dale was the sheriff's kid, but CiMarron like Jack, he kind of looked out for her when she was in the slammer for a day. After that every time she ran into him, which was mostly at the auto shop, she'd say hi. And Dale and her kind of became friends. Friends enough to be one of the three people that actually had her cell phone number.
She placed her phone back into her back pocket and then noticed a few looks from wandering, nosy teenagers. It wasn't necessarily alright to skip the memorial service, but it had to look like CiMarron didn't care. Cause she was that bitch. The bitch that didn't care, that didn't speak, that basically hated the whole population of Church Point - except for a selected few - and might as well be a member of the South Side gang. Despite the rumors of numerous different events from her killing someone to running a drug ring, CiMarron liked to be known as that bitch. It kept people away and everyone expected behavior where she didn't show up for a memorial.
CiMarron got off her bike on her own time and pulled out her purple bag from her storage compartment. Before she could put her matte, dark purple helmet into it's place, she saw the sleek black helmet that was sporting red letters which spelled out Dalton's name. It brought a small smile to her face as she remembered the first time he rode on her bike, he almost didn't because he refused to get on without a helmet. So she sped down to he nearest shop and bought him the black one, he later put his name on it. And after that he would join her on her bike when she had a day off. It slowed down a little recently, she never really found out why.
When someone passes and glances over at her, she quickly puts her helmet on top of his and slams the compartment closed. She stalks her way back up the cement stairs and yanks the door open, not bothering to open the door for anyone else. She walked down the hallway before Sam's lone figure caught her attention. She walked over and caught the last few words that left her lips.
High school at its finest. CiMarron murmured facing the girl that was slightly taller than her. She glanced over her features and when their eyes met she snapped them away. How're you?
[/div]
[/div]code by alittlered
Last edited:
Foxagon
i ain't got timmmmee
Zander Phyllus
mikaluvkitties
Professional Unicorn Lover
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