Chapter One

I met him on a Summer night. It was warm outside, so warm that the heat seemed as though it was becoming dew on my skin. I felt like a glass with heated water in it. I felt stuck. I wasn't comfortable and the girls I was with...well, their presence left something to be desired if you know what I mean but I suppose that's the price you pay for popularity. I never was able to share the thoughts I felt, it was always about the latest diet trends and all the bitches we went to school with. The truth is, we were the real bitches but we were also the sad cases. I think that somewhere deep below the surface (because they push it so far below) they had real emotions and legitimate thoughts about things that weren't just materialistic and monotonous. Anyway, we decided to walk down from one of the girl's lake houses to the lake and meet some of their friends from the football team. Although I was new to the school, I had gotten in to this group by sheer luck. I had always had a nice sense of style, or at least kept up with the trends, and one of the group's many peons had noticed me and immediately accept me as one of their own. I guess we sound a lot like a pack of wolves, and honestly, we were a lot like a pack of wolves. I've always had this deep perception of people, and it has led me to see and accept that we truly are animals. We may speak and walk but we are no different from animals. We do what suits us and what needs to be done for ourselves, above anything else, other than when a parent may tries to save their young or something along those lines. The one thing we do have over wolves, dogs, monkeys, etc...is a clear knowledge of what we are doing. They kill simply because they need food. It is not an act of cruelty, whereas we kill simply to kill. We are a world that longs for destruction.

Now, as you can tell, the inner monologue in my head is rarely about boys or why I'm not as thin as the girl on the cover of that one magazine with that one article about how she lost weight which will probably be totally contradicted by another article in this week's magazine about how "what's inside matters." If what was inside mattered, I'd be a hell of a lot farther than where I am in the middle of this small town, with people I don't even remotely care to be around, walking down to a lake filled with trash to meet boys that probably have the IQ of eight year olds. I was destined for so much more. However, I am a realist.