Blah:
The writings of a crazy homeschooled teenager at 1:00 o'clock in the morning, who should be asleep.

I was walking down the road, on my own when I found a cookie jar half hidden by weeds that sprung from a crack in the tar. I picked up the jar and opened it to find that there were three large and beautiful boston donuts just for me.
Running home guiltily, I hid in a corner and took a bite of one of the boston cream donuts. Instead of the soft, sweet, goodness I was expecting, I got the taste of blood in my mouth. I spat it out on the floor and watched as little creepy crawlies, crawled out of the bite of donut, some with cut off heads. I grab a glass of water just to find that it tastes like soap and that someone put bleach in it. I fall to my knees, gripping my kneck and curling into a ball, feeling my body become thin and frail, my bones protruding visably through my skin.

My eyes open and I'm in my bed, he stands beside me with his buddies, all chorteling and holding different turture articals. I scream, flinging the covers off me, startling the boys so bad they fall over each other, dropping their bars of soap and jars of pickles, their permenant markers, their tooth brushes and shaving cream. I scream at them at the top of my voice, my words an incoherant turrent of highpitched angry words that don't make sense, even to my own ears stuffed with shaving cream. He cowers behind one his buddies, but I see him and grab him by the arm pulling on him and screaming in his face how it wasn't funny and how dare he test our hospitality.
Surprisingly he starts to cry, and he waves his arms around innocently saying that he didn't mean to, and that it was just a joke. "Get over it," he says at last.
I slap him in the face, turn on my heel and walk through a doorway leading into the hallway leading to my parents room. Remembering at last as I walk into the empty room that they have gone out for their anniversary and have left me in the care of him. The gross, immature boy no older than me.
Clapping my hands to my forehead, I find a long trail of sticky toothpaste on it, reminding me of having to clean and look at my face.
When I reach the bathroom it is not the bathroom I once thought it was, instead it turns out to be an entrances to a haunted house ride. I sit, down in one of the moving seats, which twirl around. It is the spliting image of the haunted house of Disney World, except that it has the music from Penocheo in the background, except twisted to make it sound scary. My seat comes to the reflecting mirror of the ghosts beside you, except they really arent. I see instead of the usual ghost, Him. I see him sit in the glass beside me. I look to where he would be sitting if he were really there, and he is physically there.
I am surprised and horrified as he takes my head and kisses me full on the lips. It is a nasty kiss tasting of cigarette smoke and aftershave and what dirty socks smell like. It makes me gag. As we come into another room, he vanishes, leaving me gagging and with the taste of him still on my tongue.
I enter the room with the fake grave yard and the mechanical skeletons rising from the gaves, except this time, all of them look like me in my nightmare about having drank bleach. They are all withered and skinny and all naked which makes me close my eyes. I try to cry but the tears don't come, which frustrates me.
Then he is sitting beside me again. He leans in and kisses me/ Now I taste cigarette smoke, aftershave and dirty socks mixed with beer breath, morning breath and the smell of armpit. Not only do I gag, but I dry heave, which is of course hard while I have a boy kissing my lips. I try to push him away but I find that I have been chained to the seat. I try to bite him, but I have no teeth.
He disappeares and I am allowed to heave uncontrollably. As the heaving stops I notice a strange scent in the air, it's nothing I've never smelt before. It makes me feel light headed and happy. Images of me sitting with my father and mother flash in my head, we're laughing, which makes my giggle piggishly. Other images pass through my head and all are happy, but the happiness suddenly ebs from the images as slowly my parents turn into sickly sweet monsters who want to suck my blood and my one true love turns out to actually be him! I cry, and the tears come. I blink my eyes and wake up, truly, in the place I know I fell asleep. I have fallen alseep on the couch of a friends house. As I look around at the party of teens around me, I see that most of them around the couch are blowing what I come to recognize as weed or drugs. I snatch the nearest from some young girls mouth, smash it to the ground and start grinding it into little bits.
"YOU ARE YOUNG AND BEAUTIFUL AND DESERVE BETTER THAN THIS!" I cry at her, tears flowing down my cheeks. "YOU ALL ARE!"
They are all stunned in their stoned faize. I stomp out of the living room, grab my coat and go outside into the fresh clean air. Snow flakes fall down slowly around me, reminding me the beautiful side of cold, the grace of darkness and the promise of life from the crisp and cool air that stings the back of my throat.