Sad, Beautiful, Tragic.

This is about a girl. A plane Jayne if you will. Not the most beautiful girl, but pretty in a subtle way. She was odd with corks and wasn't perfect but perfect in her own way. She was the nicest girl you would've ever met. Genital and kind heated. This is how 5 boys of every girls dreams noticed her. They became friends but nothing more. Until things started to change-BIG things- and emotions flickered and things were never the same. This is the story of how a small town girl met some troublesome boys.

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2. Chapter 2, Getting The Hell Out:

          

Chapter 2, Getting the Hell Out:

“I swear to God if you don't got your lazy ass out of bed right this second I will drag your fat ass out!” Screams my higher than a kite mother. I was in the bathroom, not my bed. She was hallucinating from all the pot she was smoking. I groaned inwardly and called out meekly;

“Mom, I'm in the bathroom... I'm all ready out of bed.” I rince of my tooth brush and run a comb thru my wide, and not to mention unruly, jet black curls.

“Oh.” She giggled, dear lord she was bipolar sometimes, “You need to be ready to leave in 10 minutes because the purple elephant is going to fly to the airport and fly over the big pink pond in the sky.” She murmured the last part dreamy. Did I mention she was high?

“Ok mom I'll be out in a sec.” I pull the plane black size 34b bra over my head and clasp the back together. I pull on a pair ripped jeans and throw on a vintage Blondie t shirt. I lace up my all black Salvation Army vans and pull my brothers army backpack onto my shoulders. He has a couple of camouflage backpacks so he had given me one for my 17 birthday 2 years ago. He was killed when a member of his troupe stepped on a landmine that someone had missed when clearing the area. He was buried with the prestigious medal; The Purple Heart. He had also received the bronze star medal for pushing a Comrade out of the way of the blast. She survived with 3rd degree burns on her arm but is still surviving. Before I forget I line my electric blue eyes with black eyeliner and apply some black mascara, curling my eyelashes up with the end of the cap that was shaped like a leaf, not bothering to put concealer over my light smattering if freckles. I throw the rest my stuff- toothbrush, hair brush and makeup bag- into the backpack and walk in to the dirty living room. I could hear my moms crappy purple scion running in the drive so I grab a fiber one bar and walk out the open screen door. Living in Newnan Georgia you could leave your door unlocked and you would be fine. No I'm not originally from the country. I'm from California. Then Arizona, Texas, Ohio for a short time. Back to Cali then to "The city of homes", Georgia.

“Is my luggage in the trunk mom?” I ask, trying not to gag on the heavy smell of pot smoke in the air.

“You know it!” She called from the passenger seat. Since she was high I wasn't going to believe her so I got out of the car and checked for myself. Sure enough my mom have forgotten to put my 3rd suitcase in the car, so I had to run inside and retrieve it. 45 minutes later we had reached La Grange airport.

“Bye my dear!” my mom kissed my cheeks and pushed me to the metal detectors and my first check point. I was so glad to be getting away from my crazy mom.


 

 

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