teens know everything chapter 1

when you see all the things that go wrong, something in you dies. you don't know what it is, nor do you care anymore, you simply want the pain to go away. this is not the tale of a child in need or of a geek who gets the guy. this story is truth. this is what happens in the real world. if you honestly want to continue reading this after what i have just told you, i must warn you. there was a thought in my mind at first to make a fantasy novel but my mind strayed to other paths, those of the pain and suffering of teen age angst.

as a girl of thirteen, i thought the world was over when my boyfriend of 2 years dumped me, but even 2 short years later i understand why. i am a loser. not many people admit it and truly mean it, and many teens simply say that to get attention. i was one of those children not too long ago. once i finally accepted the fact that i am in fact a loser, a liar, a cheat, and a fraud, i was able to put faith in what i believe in and come to terms with these actions. anyway, back to what i was saying.

at thirteen, i thought the world was over when Matt dumped me. i cried and cried, which was cause for distress for my parents because i was a very strong willed person, not willing to openly cry. i spent allot of time out of the house and when i was home, i always wanted to be around my family. normally, one would think "a teen spending time out the house. they must be hanging out with friends and doing something bad." or "a teenager spending time with their family. how strange..." but i was not doing anything bad, as in drugs, smoking, drinking, ect. but it was abnormal for me to spend time with my family.

Matt and i tried staying in touch, but once he moved to Missouri, we both knew it was over. i say this to gain your sympathy because that is what i am to do as a writer and as a teenager. although i try to gain your sympathy, it would be best if you read this with an open mind and a closed heart.

after he and i disconnected, i took to lying to create a 'better' image of myself. i was no longer going to be the girl in the front asking all the questions, giving all the answers, wanting to know everything, with the bushy hair that nobody could see around and big glasses. i was going to rely on the fact that i spent around two years in England after my brother was born. i embellished this fact until at one point, i was 'accidentally' using British phrases in place of American ones and occasionally 'loosing my temper' and going off on a rant in my accent.

i refused to let anyone know that i was actually born in Ohio (go Buckeyes!) on campus of Ohio State University. i was a clam when it came to why i would never talk about my last home in the mountains. there was one teacher with whom i connected. my eighth grade homeroom and science teacher. he (contrary to some belief) did not spend one-on-one time with me, nor did wish to as far as i know. he became one of the few people i trusted. i thought he and i were friends, but that's getting ahead of ourselves.

during the sumer i was thirteen, between seventh and eighth grade, i was involved with a boy who i had met on the last day of school. our school took a trip to a theme park. my friend Shaylin and i decided to spend some time in the pool area and show off our swimsuits. she and i changed and went to the lounge chairs by the side of the wave pool. she wanted to tan, but i, with my pale complextion, wanted to get in the water. i went in while she lay and tanned. i bumbed into allot of people and a few tubers. one of these tubes was a double and there were two boys on it. i fell into the side of the tube because i slipped and as soon as i did, i felt my glasses start to break just before they slid off and into the water. i shouted frantically for help and that i had lost my glasses. one of the boys from the raft came down and started apologizing for running into me. i ignored his apologies and continued searching for my glasses.

at this point i must point out that this is in fact a significant part of my teenage failures and i shall show you how should you continue reading.


We found my glasses and as he handed them to me, I looked up to see what he actually looked like. He was cute in the little brother kind of way, and I was still rather sore about this other guy I had been infatuated with who had turned me down. This guy, this tuber who had returned my glasses, was named Nick. He was a year younger than I, but we didn't mind.

After spending the rest of the day together at the park, we exchanged numbers and started "dating" as only children can.

poem #1: death is my best friend

i knew my time had come. it had to have.
he was standing in my door way,
waiting, wanting, needing, craving.
he told me "friday the 13th, my dear."
he turned and left me to wait for the next day to come.
i did not sleep. i did not eat.
i did nothing the entire night but think.
as time ticked by, i wondered.
why now? who will it be? how?
perverse questions but curiosity kills.
the dawn broke. i startled my own reflexes
by jumping out of bed and dressing myself.
i walked out my front door.
the soft light had shown me beauty.
now i saw life, i yearned for my best friend to return,
to release me from this falsehood.
i heard a faint whistling growing louder and lower.
looking up, i saw a black speck coming towards me.
my small suburban setting could not hide,
tame, conquer, misdirect, or extinguish
anything i felt in that clean sweep.
light flowing from everything,
life being stripped, human flesh burning.
........................................................
the light faded. i looked around.
nothing. nobody. anywhere.
flat, dead, desolate, lonely.
he stood in the rubble, his cloak brushing the destruction.
"i warned you. you did not run,
but faced this welcomingly."
"my time has gone and past.
take what you will, leave these souls to the carion."
he floated to me. "as you wish."
leaving the ones i had known to care for,
we drifted through walls, ground, dimensions.
.......................................................
hell. not hot. not cold. just there.
"why so indesicive, my lady?"
he sounded almost concerned,
but that's not like him.
he wants to know so he can cause more pain.
no longer human, i can take the pain.
"nothing of concern." i replied.
he gently picked me up.
held by his embrace, i realised,
my life had been his play thing,
and now, i, the result, am still his play thing.
i had no choice. my best friend has my choices in his
clammy, skeletal, cold, tearing, reapers hands.
i lay as i would for any other night,
but he lay me down not on the darkness named my bed,
but on his infinitely large one, and said
"you are my equal. you understand what i am.
you know who i am. you know all.
you know the light and the dark.
it is time you knew my reason for taking you
from the light of life."
.....................................................
he had stolen me at birth, seen what i was to become,
given me back, and was then going to take me back in a different life,
different time, different body.
he changed his judgement from non-exsistant
to caring, loving, infantesimal but there.

Death, my best friend, my lord,
my savior, my lover, my equal,
gave me back my life in a different body,
this body you see before you.
the small of my back meant to be perfect sized for his hand,
to lead in dance, love, everthing.
my hair meant to be the perfect colour and shade,
the perfect consistancy, the perfect thickness,
the perfect length for him, to brush, to tear,
to pull, to braid, to fix, anything he wishes.
i am bred through 20 lives to be his perfect bride.
in death, life, desolation, destruction, eternity.
his wish is my comand, his whim mine to realise.


to those who read this to the bottom, thank you. my gratitude goes out to the poor souls who tried to make sense of this. my heart (should it still be there) beats once for every person dying during the creation and duration of this...... whatever it is.

my sincerest appologies to you, the reader.



I am sorry.