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Post by mollie on Jun 3, 2009 6:06:54 GMT -5
C A U S E Y O U ' R E I N L O V EYOU'RE NOT IN LOVE WITH HIM - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -It was an absolutely gorgeous day, and Mollie, who was recovering from a wild night, needed something to do. Although she didn't really experience hangovers, she knew it was okay to give her liver a rest so she was going to stay sober for at least a few hours. So to distract herself, she decided to go shopping. No, she didn't have any money, but she figured that she could at least browse through some things and hopefully get up some motivation to ask for a job application, not that anyone would hire her or anything.
You see, Mollie knew she was pretty much a monster. It was clear that she had a drug problem, but she didn’t really have the money to get herself some real, professional help. She absolutely hated the fact that her mother lost sleep every night because of her problem, and it really just needed to get fixed. But first, she needed to fix her heart because that was still pretty fucking torn apart. All she needed was a guy to prove to her they weren’t all the same; that they all weren’t lying, cheating, leaving assholes. There were only three guys that actually respected her. One was a boy that was a shizo, one was a blind kid (that she absolutely adored, mind you), and one was her ex boyfriend’s twin brother, that she kept around for obvious reasons.
Anyway, she had been walking around for about an hour now, and she still hadn’t gotten anything. There were about fifty bucks in her pocket, and that was money her mother had given her to buy something that would actually cover her body up. But really, she was going to go to save it up. That’s what she did was all of her money. Since her mom couldn’t afford to pay for her to go to college, her dad didn’t pay shit in child support, and there was no way she’d get a scholarship, Mollie was on her own when it came to paying her way through.
Anyway, at the moment, she was standing outside, taking this little break as an opportunity to smoke a cigarette. Yeah, it was a nasty addiction that she wished she hadn’t gotten herself into, but it wasn’t like she was able to quit, right? Right. Well, if she had the inspiration she needed to do so she would’ve done it in a heartbeat, but that wasn’t the case, so she was perfectly happy keeping her current habits.
One thing was for sure: Mollie never wanted to experience love ever again. Sure, she loved the feeling of total and complete happiness that she felt when she was around a guy she apparently “loved” (which had only been one guy in her lifetime, and whether she wanted to admit it or not, she still felt that way with him), but she knew that in time, the relationship would fail, just like every relationship. She’d much rather be in an open one, where she could sleep with whoever she wanted and not get in trouble for it, although it would’ve been nice if someone somehow managed to taught her how to believe in real, true love. It wasn’t exactly a priority though.
As she leaned against the brick wall, she twisted some of her somewhat long brown hair around her finger, while taking a drag of her cigarette. God, she really needed more money for weed. She didn’t want to sleep with her dealer forever because he more than likely was going to get a disease that she didn’t want at some point. Plus, she wasn’t exactly attracted to him. He was in his mid-thirties, and he was just…gross. Now, if she had a dealer like James Franco in Pineapple Express, she’d be all over him. But no. this guy was more like… Seth Rogen, which was obviously unattractive.
God, she really needed to get herself some help. This was killing her.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - STATUS // done! TAGS // reserved for manda i thinkk! WORDS // 660 of epic faaail. OUTFIT // click! LYRICS // the town's been talking - the maine CREDIT // this superfantastical template was made by ZOESTOLEYOURCAT of caution !
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Post by samuel caleb truman on Jun 5, 2009 1:07:28 GMT -5
if i were strong enough, if i were wrong enough [/i] TO BE SOMEONE LIKE YOU[/b][/color] would you let me come to be with you?[/i][/color][/font] -----------------------------------------------[/center] he wasn't completely disabled. as some people liked to think. he could still think and feel, move, breath on his own, talk, judge, punch. though what he was doing with those things was sometimes hard to gauge. he wasn't useless, he knew that. but he felt useless. literally. a grand majority of his day was spent doing a whole lot of nothing. nothing and being with mollie. those were the two things on his running to-do list. 1.wake up. 2. do normal human things. 3. nothing. 4. find mollie. and one of the best things about having only lost his sight after turning ten, his first set of double digits, was that he remembered things. thankfully their family never moved or else he'd be screwed royally. but he'd lived in the same place all his life. so there were certain paths and routes that he knew by heart. and he was pretty confident, after eight years of traveling them on his own, that he wasn't going to get lost.
however if it ever became the case he had a cell phone. a cell phone indeed. the little machine was programmed to only take voice activations. he always left it locked, who knew what normal every day conversation could do to it. he could end up sending a text message to the president about how his mom had to help him get dressed. ok, that was awkward. but still. true, nonetheless. he'd unlock the little beast and call out a name, normally following up the word 'call'. normally it was either, 'call mom' or 'call mollie'. more often mollie than mom, however. she was just...she wasn't as ridiculous as his mother was, let's leave it at that. the woman seemed to have a heart attack every time she received a call from her one and only son. so...as a result samuel had learned to call mollie. she was never AS worried about him, though she did express a certain amount of worry, from what he could tell of her voice and her touch. her pulse was always quick whenever they'd meet up, for the first few moments. yes, he did almost always sneak a little touch to her wrist. that was all he had: touch. that and smell...and sound. taste was there too, however it wasn't as valuable as the others.
years with this pathetic condition, he thought, would leave him useless. however, it only strengthened all other senses every human being was capable of using. his hearing had become the most improved of all. he often prided himself on his ability to hear someone coming from yards away and pin point their particular direction of travel. that was always a useful tool when you were a bit lost and your phone wasn't working. god, the last time that happened he had to have someone call mollie for him. that was embarrassing. never had he felt so much less human than that moment. not to mention there was the fear that he hadn’t a clue who the hell the person was. who knows what kind of sick…teenage-boy-killing-man he could’ve attracted. the only thing he could say was the upside to that was that he couldn't see their face, their sudden reaction. for all he knew blind kids could've come up to him often, looking for help.
but this was all beside the point. the fact of the matter was that sammie did know where he was going today. though he'd counter with something along the lines of, 'i know where i'm going everyday, stop worrying'. the boy could say he had a fairly good idea of where was headed, always walking along the sides of buildings and next to gates and random walls resurrected throughout the city. this path, however, was more winding and took him straight back home through some sort of loop, whereas many of the paths he took were too places. to mollie’s house. to the store down the street. to the front yard. things like that.
his fingers trailed along bumps and grooves, naturally built into what he knew as brick. the wall was familiar, he could even venture to say each groove and bump was familiar. but he hardly paid that much attention. that was tedious. shoving his other hand into his jeans pocket he sighed softly, more in frustration then anything, followed up by a deep intake of breath. and that was when he smelled it, smoke. He didn’t just smell it though, he inhaled it. and, of course, the action elicited a grand cough. “christ,” he mumbled, moving both hands to his mouth, whilst hovering close to the brick wall. the scent of smoke was only tolerable in small amounts, such as lingering on mollie’s clothing or…well that was all. but the full on cloud of smoke he’d found himself walking into was a bit too much.
-----------------------------------------------[/color] ![/b] DONE DONE DONE DONE DONE OMG DONE TAGGED![/b] MISS MOLLIE <3 WORD COUNT![/b] eight one sixOUTFIT![/b] PSH I DON'T KNOW D< WHATEVER HE HAS ON IN THE PICS D< NOTES![/b] it sucks and it's so damn short i'm sorry. >_< BANNER BY![/b] ME? TEMPLATE BY![/b] LE DISKO ?! of CAUTION 2.0[/font][/size] [/ul]
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