Chapter 1: Sure

12K 365 349
                                    


Question of the Chapter (QOC): Just place down some FTR stuff!! <3

o • O • o
- Sam's POV -
O • o • O

I think the one thing I hate the most is happy endings.

It's downright insufferable to see the movies where the people live happily ever after. All it does is make everyone else jealous, or depressed about their own existences. And most importantly, happy endings just aren't realistic.

Life is this game. You either play by its rules and suffer from a life of the mundane, or disobey them and get struck down by a bolt of turmoil. If you choose the latter and ignore the former, then you're taking risks all the time.

But that's how I spend my breath: living life to the fullest, and destroying all the people in it that try to bring me down. There's no point in being a normal person that lives in a normal society.

Anyone that's ever met me knows that I always run. I go everywhere, doing everything, meeting everyone. Life is just too damn short not to experience what all it has to offer. A lot of people say that, but not many act upon it.

And I'm not saying I am obsessive over saving the environment or whatever. I'm not a hippy-teenage girl with an immense care for the trees, though there's nothing wrong with that lifestyle. No, I'm more of an explorer. I'm adventurous. I take risks I probably shouldn't take.

But it doesn't really matter what the risks are. I'd rather die than spend my life having a normal teenage experience. I'd rather die than grow up and go to college or have an office job. I'd rather die than meet the perfect person to marry and have kids at the appropriate time.

Most just say that I'm a "rushed" person. They say I need to take my time to savor the good moments, if enjoying life is what I want to do. But I don't want to slow down. I want to speed up everything, taking it all in as quickly as possible with as much fascination as I can muster. That way, my stomach for more findings and different experiences is consistently famished. I'll always be hungry at the rate I'm going because I don't give myself time to reflect and digest. What a waste that is.

But I guess I mean I'm literally always hungry, too.

I'm homeless. In the streets of LA. I came here hoping for a better life, but...

That's why I'm moving on as soon as I can get my sister out of the orphanage. I'm of age; I just need the money to support her and prove to the government that I can be her legal guardian.

Anyway, I'm always starving. Whatever food I can get, I take. My ribs stick out, but not to the point where it's slowing me down (nothing will). I will admit I'm much too light, though, which can be a weakness when protecting myself against bad people.

When you're homeless, you come across other people just like you. Some are kind and politely ask for help, or to even help you sometimes, and many just try to attack you. But I don't blame them for being that way. They're depressed as hell, and feel that influential substances are an outlet (the only ones who've been violent toward me have been on something). But that's the way they play the game of life: by the rules. Or, more so, by the expected path. Instead of getting on acid and finding help, they get on acid and lash out on others because they're on acid. See? Just how the rich man expects. So they suffer.

A crude take? Harsh?

Probably. But being without food and a warm bed makes you brittle.

I, on the other hand, fight against life. Because life's an asshole. And it doesn't get to have the privilege of watching me crumble. So, instead, I ride it like a dangerous wave and risk being drowned. I still think it's better than being eaten alive by the cesspool of sharks underneath.

Can I Have Your Attention PleaseWhere stories live. Discover now