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Want to try to make one or see what other people came up with?! Every story will participate in The Doll Palace ratings. Good stories will be awarded with Dollpoints.
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All created stories have to follow . We do not allow any sexually related material. The Doll Palace will be enforcing this rule and completely blocking access to the accounts that disregard our policy and create sexually oriented stories.
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Hi, my name is Johnny
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 | Living Dead -1- |
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 5 with 3 vote(s)
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| Created: 2008-11-28 14:26:23 |
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If this sucks, blame Elena. It's her fault.
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"Sixteen and generous to a fault." Ha. That's how my ex-classmates described me. I flipped over the card and tried not to grimace at the curvy letters of the girls and illegible scribbles of the guys. They were all too nice.
I was moving again. My dad always did this to us. Wait until we got settled and happy before uprooting us and running away. I see why my mom left him. She couldn't handle his feminine mood swings and flamboyant nature. It's a little over-the-top, if you ask me.
I glanced behind me towards the sound of the annoying beeps. My little brother Andrew insisted on playing his damned PSP all the time with the volume on full blast. It's his tiny way of rebelling. I don't blame him. Instead of being gifted with the attitude and over-bearing personality Dad and I have, Andrew has Mom's passive nature. It's troublesome.
The thing about traveling three hundred miles away into uncharted territory of people I don't know nor want to know is the fact that I don't have a choice. I mean, the law guarentees liberty and justice for all but those don't apply to anyone under 18.
I really wanted a cigerette. I was so close to pulling one out of my bag right in front of my dad and risk the lecture I knew he would yell. But I needed my nicotine-flavored cancer stick.
"Stupid hair," I muttered to the tangled mass of black and blue curls that insisted on flying in my face at every opportunity they got. I couldn't even roll the window up since the AC didn't work.
"It's hell here," I mumbled louder than I intended.
Dad's stare was on me immediately making me regret my poor choice in words. Forget the cigerette, there was always something for him to lecture me on.
"Hell? You don't even know what Hell feels like. Just because you THINK you have it bad doesn't mean anything. There's always worse, lurking in the shadows. Listening to every word you say. Clinging to your last life lines, just waiting to cut the cord. Oh, trust me Johnny, you have no clue what Hell is."
"Well, this is a d/amn good substitute."
The beeping stopped. Andrew looked up, his gold-colored eyes darkening. I felt mine do the same.
I felt a sudden intrusion in my thoughts. Someone who didn't have permission was rummaging through my thoughts, trying to calm me and end the conflict. It was annoying having someone like Andrew around.
"Andrew?" Dad questioned softly not taking his eyes off the road ahead.
We stayed quiet, our thoughts mingling before the beeping returned and confrontation from only minutes before had been erased completely. I didn't want a cigerette anymore. I just wanted to get away. |
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