Freak, creeper, ******. These are the three words that most people use to describe me. Not exactly the best thing you'd want for yourself, huh? Well, I'm stuck with it. Like other people, I've got many problems. Now of course, simply listing them off won't exactly make anyone who's in my mind understand how my pathetic brain works, so I'll give whoever's in my mind a good explanation. Everyone makes bad choices. And my parents made a huge one when they made me go to a certain school. Black Rose high. Three words that should not be used in any sentence, for it shall bring horrid fortune. I came into my first year of Black Rose, like any other person. I was shy, and trying to get used to the surroundings. Like many people, friends didn’t come so easily. Right away, that wasn’t exactly my best interest at the moment, just settling in was. I could slack off later. I got my schedule, the map, etcetera, and the works. Going to class, not a problem. Completing homework, not a problem. Staying away from the stupid ******ed bullies, not a problem. Making friends… acting ‘normal’… well, those two are my major problems. Je suis le cible. The translation: I am the target. Or does it mean something else? I would be the perfect victim for any bully. I’m sensitive, act weird, have hobbies that not much people have, and have not much friends. Of course, bullies kicked right into gear as I came cruising down the road of entering school. But there’s always a reason why people act, and unfortunately sometimes that’s not exactly approved by many people. Reason for me? Well, to find that out, like everyone else, you’ll have to look at my traits. Name: Adrien Wilshire Age: 16 Personality traits: Becomes giddy, hyper, crazy when in a positive situation, or is the centre of attention. Diablo becomes depressed, violent, shy, and moody when placed in a negative situation. So that pretty much sums up a full day. After all, no day is perfect, I’ve learned. There’s always something that will come up and ruin your life. So every day I become moody, get attention from the people who care (or seem to), and then, I become glad! People care! Yes! Then the creepy side of me cripples by, bumbling through my emotions, erupting through my actions! So you get the picture, I guess I’m too over dramatic. We covered ‘freak’ in my description, let’s move onto creeper. Not much to say here… it’s pretty much also about the freak part of me, so let’s just move along. ******, the most used word nowadays unfortunately by teenagers. I don’t even know what they’re implying at me by ******, maybe it’s because they think I’m just stupid for being so weird, and that people who are not chill, suave, and/or manly are ******s. Or maybe it’s because I have really strong views on relationships and marriage. Interested on listening to these views? No…Too bad. I look at love quite like a pessimist. When the guy sees the girl for the first time, he only falls really in love with her looks! That’s it…it’s all about sex today, isn’t it. But it’s the same for the girl, too. He’s so dreamy…guy in shining armour, blah, blah, blah. Then they get together, teenage drama here and there, proposal, marriage, then the children, or the financial problems. Those are the two factors that mess up relationships, all of them…that shouldn’t have started. So I made a vow not to get into any relationship. Even though, deep down, I feel really lonely, it doesn’t matter. This actually is the best for me, and like everyone’s thoughts deep down, they all only think about themselves. I’m normal, fine, and my current mission is to survive high school. As me and my counsellor walked down the halls to my first class, Art, I probably looked like someone who was in trouble. Good, I thought. They won’t mess with me. The counsellor came with me to show me where it was, and to give some support, but also to tell the teacher that I’m a late entry for the class. Following the well dressed man, he turned here and there, and eventually we found the room. Here we go, I thought. Opening the door plastered with many pieces of artwork from gifted students, I stepped first into the room. Mr. Dennis, my counsellor, knocked quietly on the door to give further notification that someone has entered, and would like some attention. “Excuse me, Ms. Hepherdy?†The art class teacher raised her head from her work, a red head that was good with children, so I’ve heard. “Oh yeah, sure, bring him in.†She responded, already looking down, dismissing Dennis. Not good with men though, I thought, while I examined the other people I’d have to live with for the rest of the semester. I realized that my life took a horrid turn as I came into this classroom, because then and there, I saw her. A beautiful, blonde blue eyed girl. I had fallen in love. __________________________________ Well, what do you think? Should I continue?
Premise: Cliched but good. Execution: Could be better. First thing is format. Form actual paragraphs and separate them so that they can be easily distinguished. Grammar and word use need some work. This is a rather short sample to go one, but it doesn't seem bad so I'd read it if you chose to continue.
