The Rosary

As I put together my outfit this morning, Porcelain Black's song, This Is What Rock and Roll Looks Like was playing. I felt the need to embrace some of my past fashions. I wore all black with a studded belt. I had on a lot of jewelery and eye liner. To top off the look, I wore rosary beads that I bought when I went to Italy last year.

I went out the door like any other day. It really wasn't any different. I got a lot of compliments on how I looked, but that usually happens every day.

A friend of mine commented on the rosary beads which I wore around my neck. I had mentioned them because for some reason I held the beads in my hand often. I had thought about how it may be offensive and brought that up. She said that it was ignorant of me to wear rosary beads like a necklace as a fashion statement.

When I bought them, I thought of Madonna and how killer she looked when she wore them. It was a big deal when she wore them, but that was a million years ago. I didn't expect to get any reaction.

With this thought I was concerned. Was I being rude my wearing the beads?

I kept them on because I felt like there was no real reason to take them off. Through the rest of the day I was much more aware of their presence. While holding them in my French class I thought about what they represented. I believe in God, and that all of the stories in the Bible teach good morals. While I may question Jesus' existence, I don't think that his character (fictional or non-fictional) was poor in any way.

I remember when Mary was sick in the hospital and was dying. She had asked me to say the rosary every time I saw her. I was young at the time, and I did not want her to die. I would say the whole entire rosary every night for her. My faith was strong.

Although, I don't blame myself for her death, as my faith grew weaker when I got older, so did her health. When she passed, my faith was restored. All of that time I spent where I didn't acknowledge my faith was careless. I was living without purpose. I believe that death and birth come in pairs. With the death of her life came the birth of my stronger faith.

Wearing a rosary wasn't just a fashion statement. Faith isn't apparent at first glance. In wearing a rosary, I wore my faith close to my heart.

It's a shame, but I'm not wearing those rosary beads any time soon.

The Bathhouse

The girls from my lunch table and I were breaking CDs into small pieces in order to make something magnificent. At first we thought we were breaking up mirrors. For what we were working on, the only thing that would work would be mirror shards. In some time one of the girls pointed this out to me.

We were infuriated that all the time we spent on the platform was wasted on something completely inadequate. The girls disappeared into thin air, as they always seem to do. We're never together very long so it was probably a good time for them to vanish.

After this moment I found myself in the bathhouse, I was naked and just freshly bathed. I passed another person entering into the showers as I exited. It was Aaren.

As I was half-way through the main area that preceded the showers I had an overwhelming feeling that I shouldn't be naked. This wasn't until after I had passed Reg who was on his way into the showers, butt naked. He stood there in all of his glory, perfectly toned. We exchanged words for a minute in a flirtatious way yet it wasn't uncomfortable even though we were both naked.

As I passed him my clothes came on me, naturally. The exit had no door, and exited in what seemed to be a school hallway or maybe a corridor to the community center. I saw myself walking out and exiting to the left into the empty corridor.

I ran into Monsieur Colt. He had been previously involved in other chapters of my life, but had yet to specifically victimize me.

I have never seen his face nor have I ever seen the aftermath of his visits. He stabbed me in the lower stomach. He knew what he was doing since the whole world seemed to stay silent. He dragged me across the floor with my head under his arm and his hand over my mouth. He promptly came up behind Reg and dug the dagger into his lower stomach.

The man that Reg is, was not the Reg that I saw here. He was weak and helpless. Monsieur Colt didn't want to kill his victims. I think he wanted to keep them, but that is unknown to me. He had dropped me down, lying on the floor disabled next to Reg.

He headed into the showers where Aaren would make his first encounter with him. I couldn't do anything to help. I was even too emotionally paralyzed to cry or scream. I only frowned in misery.

The ending may have been reluctant. Perhaps Aaren escaped and we were all rescued. Or maybe I'm just naive.

Not A Happy Camper

Today isn't even over, and it was filled with what-the-fuck moments. Ronnie is coming over in about an hour. I was supposed to have the best day ever, but instead it was filled with drama and unnecessary distractions.

This morning was a great one, I got ready with plenty of time to spare. First period went by swell. As did second period, where I started a sculpture which is looking superb.

It was time for third period: Chemistry. Today we took notes, as usual. But the girl who sits to my right, Stephanie, wasn't here, so one of the hottest guys at our school Francois, sat to my right. As he took notes I couldn't help but notice him lift up his shirt and lightly rub his smooth stomach. I looked over again, and as he took notes, his hand casually lingered into his pants. His left hand was now almost all the way in his pants, I could see his hip bone. I began to get excited and shocked.

I opened my phone and began to write a tweet.

I look over again, and now, his left hand from the wrist down was completely in his pants. Our Chemistry teacher wasn't a work of art by any stretch, keep in mind. His hand moved to the center of his pants, I could tell he was massaging his dick. I was getting a little hot and bothered because I had several sexual fantasies about him before. I must admit, I have a boyfriend, and I feel guilty.

Later, I was caught in the hallway, using my cell phone. Lieutenant Frump got all up in my grill. She began her spiel with, "Does that show integrity?" as she always does. She raised her hand slightly above her head and told me, "You were here." She moved her hand down several inches, and said "Now you're here. You're not fabulous anymore." What a condescending cunt. How dare you say something like that to me. She has a ton of jealously built up in her. She condones the use of other electronics though--double standard. I collected my phone from the office later in the day.

When I got home I was a little on edge. Aneta said she wanted some help. I said yes, as I always do. But she was like "Don't go down stairs just yet, you're not going to get off the hook." I wasn't trying to get off the hook you moron, I was bringing my books to my room. Do you mind?! Think before you speak, please.

Ronnie is coming over shortly, and I don't want him to see me in such a mood. I miss him so much, and I've been looking forward to this for the past 5 days. I don't want to pretend to be happy. I think Ronnie will be able to brighten my mood regardless. I can't wait for his embrace.

In whole, whenever I try my best to have a great day because I've been anxious for something, it fucks me over miserably.