Let me know what you think C:
I bolted out of bed just as my alarm clock crashed onto the unyielding hardwood floor. Damn. I'm gonna have to buy another one of those. I ran over to my closet and opened the door. From inside I produced a brown shirt that said YOU ARE HERE in big, white text, and a pair of ragged jeans with holes at the knees. I half jumped, half ran down the stairs, and felt the floor vibrate beneath my feet. Apparently, my mother wasn't home, which meant I had the house to myself. However, it was a Saturday, and I did want to go outside for at least an hour. I skipped breakfast solely because of the fact that I was too lazy to make it for myself. I slathered 65 SPF sunscreen on myself and walked outside. The day was beautiful there in the small Canadian town I called home, Saskutee. I could hear birds chirping in the distance, and everything had a golden glow to it due to the sunlight. It was truly a picture-perfect moment. I, however, hated perfection. And to be honest, I believed there could never be anything perfect. There always had to be some quirk, some defect, some annoyance – and then I heard his voice.
“Hey, Damion! What's up? Want to go to the arcade?”
Ah. I had found the annoyance.
“Hello, Eddie. No thanks, I have things to do.” I was using a pretentious tone, but it didn't really bother me because Eddie was one of the banes of my existence, along with peanut butter and Apple computers.
“Well, uh... alright. See you next week at school, Damion!”
“Yeah, bye.”
To be honest, I had literally nothing to do. I had next to no social life, and in the friend groups that actually did accept me, I was the “third wheel” of sorts. Not many people cared about me. Also, my condition significantly inhibited me from having a healthy social relationship with anyone. Whatever, I would think to myself. I don't need anyone to be happy. That wasn't completely true – I did like hanging out with any friends I could find. However, I grew up with being solitary, so that's what I was used to. Therefore I didn't care as much as others would.
I left the lawn that I had been standing on, leaving a trail of crushed grass in the shape of my footprints. I was considering going into the woods, but I honestly didn't want to get either lost or too dirty. I thought of going to the arcade, but quickly dismissed the thought. There were much too many people there, and I was afraid my condition might affect my behavior. I found an internet cafe on my walk, so I went in. The thing about our town was that nearly everything was within walking distance of your house. The local skate park was a five minute walk from mine, for instance. This cafe was only a couple of blocks away. Luckily, there weren't too many people inside, so the cafe would be nice and quiet. I didn't enter for the food there, because I didn't want any, but rather I entered for the very... empty atmosphere the place had. The place was always quiet, so I would go in there for some “thinking time”. Occasionally, I would bring in a sketchpad and just doodle. As I said, I had next to no social life, so I had a lot of free time.
Today, however, there was a disruption. I went in as usual, and sat down on a chair in the corner. Unlike what usually happened, someone actually came up and spoke to me.
“Hi, Damion.” It was Jack, one of the kids at our high school who was part of what I had overheard some people calling the “popular” group. I didn't care about social popularity, nor physical appearance, but it did interest me that Jack Wilson was coming over to speak with me. That's when I noticed the girl behind him. Apparently he had been dared to speak to me, or something similar, because it looked as if she had pushed him over in my direction.
“Hello, Jack. For what reason am I honored with your presence?” My sarcastic tendencies were shining through as usual.
“I just...” Jack turned around and started frantically whispering with the girl behind him. I was pretty sure her name was Janet. After a few seconds, he turned back towards me. “Do you want to come to the movies with us, Damion?”
I saw one of the girls in the back stifle a giggle. I understood why he was doing this. They dared him to invite me to the movies, either in pity or just to mess with his swollen ego. In this case, it was probably the former, because Jack didn't seem to mind a huge amount.
“I'd love to.” Just in case it was the latter, I decided to go with what his friends were doing. I considered the idea of my condition ruining this, but I willed the thought out of my head. This was an opportunity to punch the status quo in the face, and I was determined to take that opportunity.
I put my sketchpad away into my black messenger bag and followed the seven of them out the door. Like I explained, everything was close to your house in Saskutee. The movie theater that we were headed to was a ten-minute walk from the cafe. The walk was rather uneventful, partly because the only dialogue I received was awkward ice-breaking techniques, such as “How is school for you?” or “Do you have any siblings?”. I could tell no one really wanted to talk to me. I didn't honestly care, because my goal then was mostly just to make them feel uncomfortable.
We eventually reached the movie theater. Honestly, I would have much rather gone to see a documentary that was showing there about the early days of animation in Canada, but everyone seemed to want to see Iron Man 2, so I decided not to intervene. After purchasing the tickets, I realized just what I was getting into. The air was intoxicating. A blend of body odor, popcorn and candy filled the air, which made me feel immediately queasy.
“Guys, I think I have to go,” I said with amazing stability in my voice.
“Oh, c'mon, Damion. It'll be fun,” the girl Janet said with a giggle.
I had to overcome this.
“...Okay. I'll see you guys in the theater.”
I went into the bathroom, but didn't actually use the facilities. Rather, I used the five minutes in there to put my head in between my knees. I felt terrible. In fact, I felt worse than terrible. But I had to do this, for my own satisfaction. I stood up and walked out without a sound. My face was probably paler than usual. Walking down the hallway, I almost tripped over a flight of short stairs. I was so lightheaded I felt as if I could jump and I would just float away. I wished that was possible, because I wanted to get out of there more than anything.
I got into the theater and sat down on the right side of a pretty girl whose name was Jenny. She looked at me strangely, and I responded with an awkward, sickly half-smile. After about two seconds, she snapped her attention to the screen. The movie was starting. I tried to pay attention to it, but everything was in a blurry haze. I had to try to last it for the next hour and a half. The credits were barely over when I almost threw up on the seat next to me.
“Damion, are you okay? You don't look very good,” said Jenny.
“I'm fine, I'm fine. I just have to breathe.”
I suppressed my gag reflex, put my head between my knees, and did all I could mentally to stop my condition from acting up. Unfortunately, it wasn't enough.
My fangs slid out of my gums, and I turned to my left.
