Pirate!! xD

Complete happy memories are getting harder and harder for me to dig up, Ты guys. Just a warning. :S

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The ice cream truck was the highlight of my summers when I was younger. Every afternoon I’d keep my ears peeled for its telltale jingle, quarters and one dollar bills in my pockets simply begging to be spent. When it entered my neighborhood, my sister and I would dash out the door with all the other kids and eagerly crowd around the розовый van. I always got the Spongebob popsicle with the gumball eyes, but I always made sure I had a couple quarters...

Three.

“We won’t get caught,” she сказал(-а) for the thousandth time, a smile dancing on her lips. “Stop being such a goody-goody.”

“Shut up. I’m a damn good kid,” I said. “I haven’t gotten in trouble at this school yet, and I'd like to keep it that way.”

“We won’t get in trouble. I know what I’m doing. Ты can trust me.”

“Trust isn’t the issue. The aides are.”

“Miranda.” She looked at me. “We. Will. Not. Get. Caught.”

“Yes we will.”

“No we won’t. Just come on.”

I paused. “Do Ты think they have клубника milkshakes?”

“We’d have to go there to...

Two.

I don’t remember how old I was when he first hit me. Maybe six, seven, eight. I don’t remember what I’d done to provoke him. I don’t even see this memory from the first person point of view. I see it like I’m a moviegoer, watching the scene unfold with horrorstruck eyes, like I’m an intruder in someone else’s life.

His face is twisted in anger, his lip curled up in disgust at me. Spit flies from his mouth as he yells, waving his hands all over the place. I don’t remember what he was saying. The movie is a silent one.

But his mouth is moving and he’s yelling. And yelling....

I figure, this is a spot about me, right? So I should probably tell Ты a bit about myself. Except, I’m not a Фан of straight up facts. I’m not going to sit here and bore Ты by telling Ты what the weather was like the день I was born. So I think I’m gonna share a bit of myself with Ты in story form. Just little bits of memories I have. They won’t be in order and they won’t always be important. But all these memories have made me who I am. Read them или don’t, care или not, here we go.

One.

“I want that one.”

“The gray one sleeping in the corner?”

“No, the one Далее to him.”...

I was saved. I really was. But the weirdest thing about it, was that I was saved by the internet. Not only that, butI think I might be using еще time here, than anywhere else. Yeah, I'm like any other teen who thinks schools shit, homeworks worse and people are stupid. No, Human kind is stupid, and yeah, life sucks too. So I choose a easier pattern, one where I can be me, and still be liked. One where people wouldn't judge me, wouldn't know me. A pattern where I can stay mysterious, and unknown, and liked. Internet.

I'm alive, but at the same time I was not. It's quite interesting, it's a...