A,D,D,I,C,T
Nicotine, the only thing that is with me through the madness.
As I take one pull from the cigarette, the sound of the traffic seems to fade. I'm not talking about traffic on the road, I'm talking about the stupid brain in my head.
Wish life would make sense, I'm tired of this fortune cookie business! As if working at a shady restaurant for a weirdo who gives out fortune cookies is not enough.
Every morning I steal one, just to see what my fate is...crazy right? We're all stupid for believing God is real!
" The dishes won't wash themselves!" the annoying voice yelled and I quickly dropped the cigarette.
" Yes sir!" I replied quickly before dusting my shirt.
" Wish you'd quit those cigarette son, have you seen yourself?"
" Apart from being black and white, I don't see anything else." I rudely mumbled.
There was a sigh from my boss who didn't answer and instead walked back inside the restaurant.
My disorder is not something people want to normalize, or even talk about.
Everytime I say something about my skin, I get these weird stares. It's like they're trying to unsee it. Vitiligo, I have severe vitiligo.
My face has these white patches along with the rest of my body and I look like a Dalmatian dog!
Funny right? No, you also feel sorry for me. I guess I should just shut up about such topics.
YOU ARE READING
ANTISOCIAL: Season One
Teen FictionAntisocial follows the lives of five different teenagers who are going through different struggles in life. Everything is a battle and not everyone is fit enough to fight it . From depression to social anxiety, read through and see the drama unfol...
