Post by Kennedy Ross on Feb 21, 2008 18:21:50 GMT -5
it's not that you're so special;
you're just the cross i bear.
"So what are you going to do with yourself, Miss Ross?"[/blockquote]
The question was never responded to verbally, it was instead answered by the slam of a door. Kennedy's mind was full of expletives, not aimed at a certain person. Actually, the hateful words were more aimed at herself. Echoing in her mind, the question daunted her. What was that supposed to mean? That she was failing? That she couldn't stop falling asleep in class? That she was, above all things, a mess? Maybe all of the above. But what could she do to solve all those things? Abruptly leaving the classroom certainly didn't help the fact that she was failing. The whole falling asleep thing wasn't her fault. Her parents were yelling again at midnight, causing her brother to come in and sleep in her room. While he fell asleep as soon as he was settled in, Kennedy just couldn't. Instead she listened to the yelling, which was clear as day through her second story room's paper-thin walls. Thankfully, from what Kennedy could hear, no glass had been broken. This time. The yelling was either about her mother cooking a dry dinner or her father working so late. It was always about the little things. Both of her parents were overworked, which also caused them to be over aggravated. It wasn't a pretty environment. Finally going to sleep around 2 AM, Kennedy had only received three and a half out of the recommended eight hours of sleep. Not like that was a lot, but it was the longest she had slept in over 3 weeks.
Roaming the halls of Sol, Kennedy had not really planned out where she was going to, but it became apparent after fifteen minutes that she needed a smoke. So, basically, the teenage smoker's paradise, aka the roof, was calling her. As soon she got to the huge metal door, clearly marked with red signs that indicated she wasn't supposed to be there, she shoved it open and took a deep breath. Inside the school, it had felt so tight and crammed more mentally than physically. It felt...pressured. Rummaging through her things, she found the three things she had been looking for: a lighter, a pack of cigarettes, and a compact mirror. First pulling out the mirror she examined herself. The teacher was right. She was a mess. Slight baggage was forming under her eyes and her make-up was somewhat smudged. Being too lazy to wash it off and reapply it, she tossed her compact into her bag and lit a cigarette. This was all the space she needed.
