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Out of Luck

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Out of Luck

Post  Anna on Wed Dec 12, 2012 1:51 pm

I'm out of luck.

My hands are numb, my body has been covered in bruises everywhere. My face knows its rightful place is the cold ground, my bag enjoys being tossed and kicked around. My books have lost all respect for me and fall into every puddle it can find. Getting wet even with a plastic bag over it.

And that plastic bag seems want to rebel, because it has holes in it aswell.

I am unlucky. Walking into open and closed doors, being pushed around and invisible. my books find their way to the floor so often that everyone around me seems never to hear it and snicker anymore.

I am known as the clumsy, unlucky person.

If I'm even known at all.

Every day I walk the mile go to school, glancing over my shoulder every few minutes to check if my intended or coincidental death was heading my way. Checking to see if a drunk driver would smash into me, if a mugger would come out and kill me, maybe I'd get splashed by car, or have gum or trash thrown into my hair and at me again.

Then I would arrive at school, not that things would get any better. I would work on schoolwork, try not to die perhaps from a pencil that wants to stab my eye as someone takes their pencil and goes to flip it around and it mysteriously "flys" out of their hand aimed at my eye. But I know its not intentional. Because how could people do that when they don’t know of my existence?

I’m quite sure that nobody realized I had been in the Hospital for over a month.. well- except my teachers who send me the HomeWork.. which is spread all over the cold wet floor, being stepped on by everyone.

Nobody really knows that I exist. I'm merely just a background that will disappear. I'm the common enemy that has done nothing wrong.

Like Meg from Family Guy.

I suppose just the existence of myself does nothing but annoy others. I wouldn’t exactly mind death. The idea of it doesn’t seem too bad right about now.

Being stepped on by people in the City of New York.

The Great Big Apple. Ha.

Depends where you are in the Big Apple, isn’t that right?

Well. I’ve been pushed by a rather large crowed. My books and papers flew everywhere, into the puddles and sogged as more rain poured down. I’m quite sure people in my situation would cry out in frustration, cursing and yelling. Screaming out “THIS IS THE WORST DAY EVER!”

However this is my daily routine. Is there ever a difference to what goes on with me? No. Of course not. I only live for eternal suffering, I take the hit so others don’t have to.

I recall being hit by a fire-extinguisher once. It flew off the wall as somebody threw it from anger and was going to a girl whom had just transferred to the school about a month earlier.

Something pushed me into her, and I took the hit. I broke my arms as I raised them to protect myself. She called me her hero, and I never could find who had pushed me.

After a while she slowly forgot about the incident and left me alone, forgetting about her promise to make it up to me. I don’t recall her name, but the incident I do. I suppose it's only because the one time that I felt as if my lack of luck, helped someone. It made me feel important.

I mean, I’m not that ugly.. well. There are things I would change, like some acne, my eye is a bit lazy and makes my glasses look crooked, I have a few scars on my hands and one right under my bangs. I’m not ugly, but I’m not attractive either. I just wish I was a bit more noticeable above all.


Because here I am. Still on the wet cold ground as rain pours down and people step over, around and some- on me. I didn’t cry out in shock or annoyance as heels ripped and poked my papers. I didn’t scream or yell. I just weakly pushed myself up, gather what was left of it. Picking up my books and putting them into my now wet bag. My umbrella was useless, as usual. I think I gave up asking my parents to buy me a new one, because I would always break them somehow. Whether the wind would purposely let it fly away, rip holes into them, maybe as I toppled down a high-heel stabbed thousands of holes into them and walked away swiftly. I don’t know. But I do miss an umbrella. Infact. Having one with me- no matter how broken would give me a slight ounce of comfort.

Not that it could.

I sighed, as people bumped and cursed at me for standing in the same place.

I just give up at trying to find out why.

Why my peers snicker and glance at me.

Why nobody apologizes.

Why nobody knows of my existence.

I’m out of luck.

Not that I had any to begin with.

Ha.

Such a thought amuses me.

I looked up sadly at the grey sky that seemed to appear and disappear as people around me with umbrellas walked by. I smiled at the rain. The rain doesn’t hurt anymore. It's more like a nice soft cold shower that cries for me.

Maybe if I cry under the rain nobody would see that I’m crying. Not that anyone would see me. I laughed.

Harder and harder.

Must’ve looked like a lunatic laughing to myself.

Gripping my stomach and dropping my books again.

Laughing at the world. Everyone who has existence.

They all are alive, and I just exist. I laughed harder. Tears streaming down my face from the pain in my stomach and heart.

‘Where is the umbrella in the-’

Smack

Yeah. There’s the umbrella in the face.

I was waiting for it politely.

‘Thank you whoever hit me.’ I thought hatefully and sarcastically to myself, glaring at the cluster of umbrellas down the street. I bent down and picked up my soaking books, papers and bag.

“Hey, you okay?” I jumped at the close sound of a voice next to me, this voice was different then the cluster and blur of other voices passing. I turned around to see a guy about my age, 17.

“Perfect.” I said sarcastically, and sighed gesturing to my wet soggy essays and homeworks that I’ve been working on ever since I had left the hospital.

“All these papers are yours?” His eyes were a soft green, and his hair was a blonde color, he wore a green large overcoat but it was left unzipped, he also wore a soft red scarf.

“Sadly. Yes. All of them are essays, and homeworks. Heh.” I said and gave a forced small laugh.

“What?! Here let me help.” He said and began picking them up, dodging some people who almost stepped on his hands.

“No! It's fine. Leave it.” I said quickly, pulling him up. “I’m used to it. Thanks though.” I said shrugging it off, and walking away so he wouldn’t get into any trouble because of me. “I’m glad you offered though.” I said turning around and smiled a little, he was standing in confusion then his eyes widened for a breif moment.

“Hey! Wait-” I turned around and speed walked off into the large crowd of New Yorkers.

Yet a small part of me told me to turn around and talk to him. He was kind of the first person to notice me.

But then again, what was the chance of him finding me?

I’m out of luck here.

“Hey! Wait- Amy!” I stopped, how does he know my name? I turned around to see he was running towards me with his hands full of papers.

I waited until he panted in front of me. It was beginning to pour harder.

“Your name IS Amy- right? I mean. Thats what all the papers say.” He said laughing a little.

“Yeah, You?” I asked, taking the papers with half of a sigh. He went through all that trouble to pick up my wet homeworks and essays, huh?

“Theo,” he said and smiled, “Where you headed to.” Theo went through his backpack that he was wearing and took out an umbrella that opened for the size of two or three people, puting it over my head. I looked at him in slight shock, before realizing that he had asked me a question.

“U-uhm. I’m going home..?” I said pointing my thumb down the street.

“May I walk you home then?” Theo asked me.

“Uhm.. Why?” I asked in confusion.

“To be a gentleman? I would suppose..? I mean. I wasn’t going anywhere, and I was just wandering around getting to know the streets better. Plus I’d kind of like to be your friend, if you wouldn’t mind that is.” Theo said somewhat rushed. I raised an eyebrow at him.

“Are you sure you don't want to kill me?” I asked slowly. Theo looked somewhat horrified.

“Why would I want to kill you?!” He almost yelled.

“I’m seriously wondering if you’re a serial killer that snatches up unlucky girls and kills them after bringing their hopes up.” I said, looking him over for a few seconds. He crossed his arm over the one holding the umbrella.

“.. Why would you even be wondering that?” Theo asked in confusion. I shrugged to myself.

“I’m just unlucky like that.” I stated simply then pointed down the street with my thumb. “Are we going to go or what?” I asked him. He laughed to himself.

“Lets go, Miss Amy.” Theo said flashing me a grin and putting the umbrella above our heads. Then I noticed something. The umbrella was a soft yellow. Kind of like a sun.

“Yes, Sir Theo.” I said with a smile, and we walked down the street. I showed him some places and ect. as we walked down the street to my house. Apparently he moved to New York not too long ago. He was exploring when he saw me struggling with my sanity- as he put it

“So where were you coming from anyways?” Theo asked me curiously as I fixed my bag on my shoulder.

“The Hospital.” I replied simply.

“Were you sick?” He asked hesitatingly.

“I broke my arms, ribs and shoulder.” I sighed. He gave me a look of shock.

“How did you manage to do that?!” He almost yelled.

“Well- this time I was hit by a falling tree-branch.” I stated with a shrug.

“How do you get hit by a falling tree-branch?!” Theo asked now in shock.

“Dunno, the world supposedly enjoys seeing me in pain. I would suppose.” I sighed.

“Man, Must suck then.” He said then poked me and winced in pain. “OWWW I THINK I BROKE MY FINGERRR!!” He yelled I looked at him horrified. His wince grew into a grin, and he began laughing. “Got-cha.”

“You scared me!” I said and frowned.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry. But I couldn’t resist.” He said and smiled.

“Well, if you get hurt it’s your fault!” I said and rolled my eyes.

“Yeah Yeah. As if. I’m quite the lucky charmer myself. Nothing can ever hurt this perfect face.” Theo said smashing his face with his hands with a smile. I laughed.

Maybe I’m not Out of Luck as much as I thought.
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Anna
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Join date : 2012-11-18
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