I walk as daintily as I can with high heeled boots on towards the oak door; narrow breaths escaping from my mouth with every small step I take; forehead sweating a little bit underneath my heavy cherry-pink fringe. You may be wondering what the deal is. In fact, I can hear you say to yourself what the hell is that Blaze Malloch on about? It's a new house for a new woman, so why be so nervous? Well, before you begin to wonder whether I'm a shy girl who gets nervous at everything, I rarely get nervous, OK? The thing is, this whole moving thing is a dare - a dare from my dumbest mate, Helena. I must have been fucking pissed as I agreed to leave everything behind, but now I sincerely regret it. After all, Cornucopia - the Town Of Smiles, isn't really a place for an angsty woman like me.
I clench my fists and yawn. Maybe it's because of the boring brickwork, lame pathway or the fact that I had to get up at six o'clock this morning - I'm not entirely sure. Either way, it's possible that it could be the look of the house - it looks like a fucking cottage for crying out loud. Stopping before the house, I sigh and try and readjust the way my mind is making me feel about Cornucopia. It is meant to be really pretty and peaceful - but then, I don't want that. I want to be an actress. Trust Helena to get me pissed on Stella at my high-rise apartment in Bridgeport. Thickard.
Anyway, I don't look like I belong in Cornucopia - apparently all the girls are dressed in little pink floral dresses and call themselves Summer, Willow, Peaches, Tulip and other shit like that. Well, if they are they'll faint if they look at me, and their mothers will tut whenever I so much as look at them. My hair is naturally a chocolate brown, but I find that really boring so I dyed it a bright cherry-red when I was 16. Actually, I dyed it blonde, bright purple, and even a jet black during my 'emo' stage (as everyone called me) before I was 16, but I like it this way. It sort of screams 'fuck you' in a nice, smiley way. Sadly, most people just think it screams 'fuck you' in a harsh way to their kids. Oh, and the piercings don't help.
But hey, that's the way I like it, and you ain't gonna change my mind, got it? Oh, wait, you never asked. OK, sorry I guess, I'm kind of bad tempered and moody - and that's when I'm in a good mood. Never approach me when I'm kicking anything that goes by - a lampost, a small Yorkshire Terrier - because I'll kick you. Hell yes.
Sometimes it makes me feel sad, unwanted, when I see small children open their mouths and let out a small scream in fright when they see me. It really hurts, because that's really not who I am at all. This is my style, I fucking love it, but it doesn't show me really. I am moody, but I can be nice, I promise!
I swallow as the newspaper boy drops his face in terror as he gazes at my nose, lip and eyebrow piercing combined with the hair, ripped jeans and leather jacket. I smile at him, he runs away. Yeah yeah, I should bge used to it, but it fucking kills me when people run away from me without getting to know me. I do terrible with boys because my one and only boyfriend teased me and slapped me in front of everyone - his mates, my mates (not my parents as their dead) - because of the way I look. Now I've learned to accept that I'm me, and no-one can change that.
I screw up my face and turn the doorknob before going weak at the knees in delight. OK, so the house looked like shit from the outside, but inside it was amazing. How could they have guessed my electric style without even looking at me? Flames licked at the walls, but only on wallpaper and they were black and a vivid aqua to match the floor. The stereo blasted music at full blast, and as I folded over the label which told me the music I couldn't help but grin from ear to ear. The Killers. My Chemical Romance. Three Days Grace. Even some old stuff I loved, like Blur and Nivarna.
Even better, I had a clear view of the seaside. The sea always calmed me down - in fact, along with my music, it saved my life as it stopped me scraping my razor too hard against my wrists. Just the sound of the waves lapping the sand made me more peaceful than anyone could get me. In fact, it seems like it undestands me better than anyone I've ever known - my parents, Helena, my crap boyfriend. Maybe, with the sound of the waves in my ear, I could cope with this place.
Yeah, the chapter was short (and sweary), but I hoped you liked it! It is different from the writing style of my other characters like Kaitlynn and Hollie, but I'm writing this like it was Blaze's thoughts. Hopefully you may have gathered that she's a moody girl who enjoys saying the word fuck, but she has a kind heart, but nobody really understands her. Well, just look at the picture. Not exactly innocent.
If you look at the first picture of her face, you might be able to tell that underneath the piercings she is a very pretty woman.
Oh, and for you Americans, a fringe are bangs, hair-wise.
I hoped you liked that, and please leave a comment below!
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