Do you ever feel like you don’t belong in this extraordinary world we call home? I feel like this almost every day of my life. My name is Brielle Laken. Brown hair, green eyes, somewhat tall, blah, blah, and skinny. A typical girl I guess you can say. Nothing really goes down in my life that you can call "cool." I keep to myself most of the time. Staying in my room for five hours at a time is one of my specialties. I don’t have many friends, so this is what cause’s me to stay in my room most of the time. I mean I could go outside, go walking, get a tan, and do whatever. I guess it’s just not my thing. You know that stare that kids give you? You know the "that girl is very weird" stare. Well yeah I get that every day at school. At least that is what I encounter anyway.
I wish my life was more exciting then it is, you know? I may sound like the depressed seventeen-year-old Emo girl. Thats what my label is at school anyway from what I hear. I don’t think I am, that is just who I am. I mean what are labels anyway? I’ll tell you, they are stupid names that so called "clicks" give you for their own pathetic pleasure. Emo’s, preps, and jocks, seriously? I mean come on. Hell if I am "emotionally depressed," then they are, I don’t even know. I don’t want to stoop down to their level.
Anyway back to my dreadful life story. My parent’s died in a car accident not to long ago, coming home from an important "business meeting" so they said. For all I knew, they were probably selling drugs at the time. So it brings me here in good old Philadelphia, Pennsylvania. Where all the water tastes like some polluted scientific experiment. Where all the buildings are crammed together and you feel as if you may suffocate in your own bed just thinking about it. Did I fail to mention about my aunt, Charolette Baker? Well maybe it’s, because I don’t see her anymore really. She is usually out at work or trying to find "the man" of her dreams, so she says. Yeah that isn’t going to work out all that well, but thats just my opinion. Charolette looks like my mom in a way. Brown wavy hair, blue eyes, and both somewhat tall I guess. Except Charolette has burns on the side of her face. I never asked her what had happened, because I know it would upset her. Sometimes I would hear her crying in the bathroom about them. So I just let it go.
I pretty much live by myself in the apartment my aunt could hardly pay for. Don’t get me wrong I love her and all I just, I don’t know. I can’t explain how I feel. She would come home at 4:30 A.M. most of the time stumbling over pretty much everything that was laid on the ground. "Stupid alcoholic," I thought to myself. I watched as the clock ticked the time away. Still, nothing interesting has happened. I leaned against the old stairwell and watched as the little kids played kick-ball on the street. I wish I could be a kid again. Not having to worry about anything, but eating, sleeping, and having fun. I miss my childhood days. I miss my old friends, especially my old friend Ryan Amsley. He was my cute best-friend. I never actually liked him more than a friend. His green eyes, black messy hair, and personality were the best qualities about him. He was down to earth and everything in between.
He passed away from cancer four years ago in the fall of November, 2005. I miss him and our memories. He always told me he would be there for me every minute of my life and still to this day I believe him. I felt a warm salty tear running down my face. I couldn’t help, but cry. I mean he was my best friend. I wonder if he can see me through the glass like wall we call heaven. He didn’t like when I was upset. He hated seeing me cry and personally I did to. We planned on living with eachother when we were older since we both didn’t want to go to college. We didn’t know where, but somewhere far away. His parent’s died when he was only six years old from a fire. So he had fostered parents’ for the time being. I don’t think they liked me very much, but I didn’t care. I didn’t like them either. They were nasty to Ryan, but so loving and caring to their own birth child. I met him at my old grade school in 2nd grade and from there we became close friends. I knew pretty much everything about him, but there was something secretive he always hid from me. I don’t know what and I didn’t bother asking him and now that I am thinking about it, It kind of made me curious.
I got up from the stairwell and turned around only to see some random guy I had never seen before in my life. He didn’t even seem to notice I was there. I felt my throat tingling and a sudden cough came from my mouth, but still nothing happened. Am I that invisible to everyone?
I began moving my feet up the stairwell hearing every creek that came from the old steps. As I got closer to him, I got to see what he looked like and what he had on. He had brown hazel hair and almost like some turquoise color eyes. He was about 5'11 and skinny. Black coat and blue jeans. "Excuse me sir, are you okay?" I said. He starred at the wall, like there was someone starring back at him. My eyes followed where his gaze was, but I couldn’t see anything. I felt a tickle in my chest. My heart was beginning to pound away. The creeking got suddenly louder as I ran past him. My nose suddenly filled with air as I jolted across and smelt something that I didn’t want to. It was the smell of Ryan and the cologne he use to wear. I could smell it five miles away. A rich deep and mind blowing smell. My eyes peered back at him, but it wasn’t my Ryan, it couldn’t be. It just couldnt be!.
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