Introduction

I’ve been labeled a bitch. I’ve been labeled a rebel. I’ve been labeled a punk. I’ve been labeled a prep. I’ve been labeled a goth. I’ve been labeled a whore. I’ve been labeled an artist. I've even been labeled an Oreo. Hell, I've even been labeled strong willed. The truth is I am just me.

It surprises me that people think that can label me when I can't even figure out where I stand. Every time I think I have my life figured out the tables turn and I'm left in the dust without a clue of who I am or where I'm going.

I don’t have friends that I call at the spur of the moment to go out shopping with. I don’t have friends that I tell everything to. I don’t have friends that know about my inner thoughts.

I do have friends who I laugh with all the time. I do have friends who invite me to parties. I do have friends who talk about me behind my back. I do have friends that tell me I do not belong in my public school.

Getting My Tongue Pierced

At this very moment, I, Lauren Louise Renee Doubling, am on my way to get my tongue pierced. Mummy, said I couldn’t get it done, Annie said she’d take me if I’d pay for it. Of course, Annie thinks I will chicken out once I see the needle, I however, beg to differ.

Last week, my friends told me I was not trust worthy, this week I dyed my hair a very unattractive green, told my mother to go to hell, applied to the boarding school of my dreams, and to complete my outrageous list of things to do I always said I was gonna do, I'm piercing my tongue.

Honestly, my friends should know we are not the type of friends who are brutally honest with one another. Their confession to me just pushed my off the deep end. I can't handle my mother getting married, to horrific Jonathon, my doctor telling me I need lose tons of weight, my sister prancing around with her size 3 figure, and the tip of the iceberg my body telling me it wants to be a women, A.K.A. not a virgin. Alternatively, maybe it was my mind telling me that… oh well either way it’s on my list of things to do.

“Here Chicka,” Annie tells me handing over a small fake I.D.

“Thanks,” I respond. One word replies my favorite thing. Whoever came up with them is a genius.

“So, Lauren, any special guys in your life now?” The only bad thing about Annie taking me is she is too curious for her own good.

“Yes, I keep him in the basement, his name is Rico and for fun he gnaws on my skateboard, and eats Lacey’s thongs.” My precious sarcasm you are by far my best friend.

“Is he a good bang?” As far as I can tell, she's totally serious.

I do not choice to respond. Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. Ti-.

“You know you and Lacy are more alike than you think,” she gives me a meaningful glace from the minor that’s in the middle of the car, I forgot the name but I refuse to turn my brain on and think. I accidentally miss the look and continue to will God to fulfill my not so secret desire to make the whole world mute.

“Why do you hate her so much? She's really nice when you get to know her.” Her rambling continues, obviously God does not care about the sixteen almost seventeen year old girl who’s getting extremely annoyed at the moment.

I guess I could humor her for a moment and give her my opinion.

It’s not like she’ll be able to understand it so what’s the point?

That’s exactly the kind of attitude that keeps me antisocial… I knew there was I a reason I kept you.

Last week you said the reason was because I locked the good part of you up and keep torturing her with fire.

Well, there’s that too.

Oh dear, I think Annie’s talking now. Maybe you should pay attention now.

How about, not?

That’s the you I know and love.

You love every me. What the hell are you rambling about?

Someone’s a bitch today.

I’m not a bitch I’m just misunderstood.

Misunderstood my ass. You choose not to be understood, which I take a big part in. Anyway, you can't use that excuse on me.

I just did.

I am no longer going to talk to you. You’re going to be on your own from now on. Have a blast talking to Annie.

“… So in reality you to should be the best of buds.” Annie’s voice is peppy.

God strike me down now. Fine I’ll be nice now. Just come back I can't deal with her!

No.

You already did so ha!

Bye now.

“We’re here! Are you sure you want to do this?” Annie turns around in her seat and gives me a skeptical glance. That’s the type of glance my friends gave me when I told them I was going to dye my hair green. My self-disappointment and the burning urge to prove every wrong boils inside of me, giving me the courage to respond with more than one word.

“Hell yeah. Let’s go.”

---

I was bored. I needed to write. I'm not in the right frame of mind to write a chapter for my other stories.