Evans Hansens Narration of Love

Chapter One

I woke up.

Late.

I didn't have enough energy to put effort into my appearance, not that it really changed anything. I pulled a blue T shirt over my head and yanked on some baggy blue jeans.

It looked mediocre.

I glanced at myself in the mirror for about a second too long, causing my lips to quirk down into a frown.

It looked less than mediocre the more I looked at it. I didn't have time for this.

With a sigh I slipped on his sneakers and ran down the stairs.

I grabbed my bag and made my way out of the house.

My mother was gone already and I was close to missing the bus.

I was out of breath by the time I made it to the stop. Everyone looked at me, most of their glares with malicious intent.

I didn't care.

They couldn't tear me down.

Nothing they said could be worse than what I thought.

Nothing they did could hurt more than what I did.

They were nothing to me.