Chasing Laughter

Miley hasn't had real friends since she was eight. Heartbreaks, bullies, and secrets are part of her daily routine. Miley has forgotten what it was like to be happy. No friends, family is almost never home, and no one to look after her. When Miley receives a harsh comment, she does something Jurassic. Can you blame her? She just Chasing Laughter...


1. Miley's POV

"Don't blink, you'll miss something, everything.

If that were true, I'd never stop blinking. As I look in the mirror, I pull back my long brown hair into a ponytail, and put my rectangle black rimmed glasses on. As I walk across the cold wooden floor, my toes curl up due to sensitivity. I open the closet door and pull my over sized white sweater over my head. The holes in the sweater reveal more then needed so I shrug on a black lace tank. Flipping through more clothes, I hear my mom yell "Miley, hurry up you're going to be late to school!" Quickly throwing on a pair of plain black leggings with my hightop white converse, I grab my mint green Jansport backpack. Creak… Creak, those stupid stairs won't shut up.

While driving to school, I see the "popular girls". You know, the ones who think they are all that. Yeah well with my marvelous luck, I get stopped right by them at the stoplight. Looking over they are all talking, most likely gossip, when they see me staring at them, every single one of them starts laughing. Ladia, tall brunette with a heart shaped face and extraordinary blue eyes, is THE popular girl. Her golden brown tan contrasts with her blue eyes and flowy blue ruffle dress with a woven brown belt. Gabby, short blonde with green eyes and round face, she's 1/2 of Ladia's minions. The other half is Erica, a little shorter than Ladia with brown hair and a raspy voice. I turn back to the wheel and face the street. When the light turns green, I speed ahead of them and hope that I never see their snobby faces again. When I arrive at school, I am nowhere near excited to go to class. 1st period, gym.

I walk into the girls locker room and rush to my locker. I hurrily unlock the combination and grab my clothes. Taking off my torn up sweater, leggings, and shoes, I then put on my gym clothes. Black basketball shorts and a white t-shirt is the newest trend(not). Walking out to the gym floor, I hear the laughter of friends, talking of classmates, and hearing it all I want it so badly. I want to immediately be able to run to someone and blurt out all of my problems. Unfortunately, nobody seems to care of my existence. Bffringgg..... Ugh, the whistle, that means rope. "Lasoff, you're up first." The teacher yells with no compassion. I knew that was coming. He's loved picking on Miley Lasoff, me, for years. He's always picked me first on everything just to humiliate me, because he knows I'm not the most athletic. As I slowly walk to the rope, I hear whispers behind me. I clutch the braided rope and hoist myself up, only just to fall. Faint laughs happen behind me as I get up to try again, but something grabbed my arm. I turn slowly, "Coach Winnegan..." I say. "Not today," he says to me in a soft voice. "Miley Lasoff, a nerdy, weak, disgusting human being, is standing before me." He says so all the gym can hear. Tears start to dwell in my eyes as he continues on. "Look at me Miley," I tilt my head up slightly to see his face. His round brown bearded face, makes me just want to walk out. "You are a waste of space and a worthless piece of crap." Coach says harshly, which makes me flinch. How could he do this? He is very close with my family, he's picked and chewed at me but, never insulted me. "Get out of my gym." I stand frozen in my spot. "NOW!" He forces. I run to the girls locker room and change into my knotted clothes. Grabbing my keys and backpack, I feel the tears again. They're coming, closer, until I blink them away.

My thighs burn, my heart aches, and I have nothing. As I reach the third floor, someone calls me over. "Hey beautiful." The tall muscular boy says while coming closer. "Please get away from me." I say without looking at him. "Why? You don't want some love?" He places his hands on my hips and yanks me to him. I push away forcefully. I grab my books from my locker and stick them in my backpack. "Fine." He backs off. "I didn't want you're fat ass anyway." He walks off laughing. I slam my locker shut and run out of the winding hallways of hell, or high school. I unlock my Ford Escape and rush home. When I arrive home, I glance at my lifestyle. A gigantic house with tall pillars. There are two sections of driveway. They both curve around a section of garden with a fountain. The house has gates blocking the entrance and a pass code to unlock the gates. Our house is a massive brick house that has many decorations to give the house "originality" as my mother calls it. As I step up onto the porch, I rummage around in my backpack for my house key. Once I found it. I lay my backpack down by the door, and find my way to the bathroom. I step onto the scale and read the number out loud, "128 pounds." As a Junior in high school 128 is not a big number, but I couldn't help but wonder if people saw me as fat. Stepping off, I ran to the office and grabbed an old journal. I ripped out the pages and recycled them. I jogged upstairs to my room. The turquoise walls had pictures of my old friends that moved away. My desk was to the left of my door and the bed was directly across from it. To the right was my closet. I sat down at my white desk and started writing.



March 23, 2014

128 pounds


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