Arent You Tired Of Being Nice No!!!! Im Tired Of Everyone Else Being Mean!!!!!!!!

“aren’t you tired of being nice” no!!!! i’m tired of everyone else being mean!!!!!!!!

                laura  lee  scoots  over  to  make  room  for  haley,  passing  her  a  water  bottle  as  she  does  so,  the  action  is  nearly  automatic  the  moment  she  catches  her  eye,  the  moment  coach  scott  calls  for  take  five.    “  i  think  …  ”    arms  wrap  around  her  knees,  pulling  them  to  her  chest  as  she  lets  her  breathing  even  out.    “  i  think  hate  is  a  strong  word,  i  don’t  think  anyone  hates  you.  ”    her  mind  flickers  to  jackie,  but  that’s  not  hate,  really.  that’s  just  …  jackie.  she’s  not  hateful,  she’s  just  jackie.    “  do  you  feel  forced  to  be  here,  haley?  or  are  you  just  …  ”    she  trails  off,  gaze  leaving  haley  and  finding  the  field,  searching  for  a  word  she  cannot  find.    “  i  don’t  know,  talking?  like,  being  metaphorical,  and  stuff.  ”

♡* ♱    haleygrahams.

❛     there's  only  one  thing  worse  than  having  no  control  over  your  life,  @ofaither​  :  it's  being  forced  to  live  it  with  people  who  hate  you.     ❜

୨୧˚♡* ♱    starter call, accepting.    ( @ilvaites​ )

                positioned  behind  the  prophet,  she  sits,  a  strange  peace  flowing  through  her.  no  doubt  the  cause  of  lottie’s  ever  glowing  light,  a  holiness  laura  lee  wishes  she  could  hold  in  her  hand,  hold  up  to  the  sun  and  watch  it  spin.  laura  lee  hums  gently,  a  familiar  tune  that  sits  heavy  on  her  throat.  psalm  eighteen,  she  still  remembers.  for  strength.  cautious  fingers  opt  for  gentleness  and  focus,  instead  of  speed,  twining  hair  together  so  it’s  neat  and  tidy,  freshly  clean  from  the  lake  and  scarcely  more  than  two  drops  of  rationed  soap.    (  the  Lord  is  my  rock  and  my  fortress  and  my  deliverer,  my  God,  my  rock,  in  whom  i  take  refuge,  my  shield  …    )    she  breathes  in  her  nose,  out  her  mouth.  they  will  be  okay,  blessed  from  above.  they  will.    “  that’s  not  too  tight,  is  it?  ”

                “  what?  ”    startled,  she  feels  as  if  she’s  been  shaken  out  of  a  deep  sleep,  blinking  around  the  room,  the  fluorescent  lights  nearly  blinding  her.    “  i  don’t  …  i  don’t  even  know  you.  or-  or  i  do,  i  just-  i  just  don’t-  ”    caught  up  in  her  words,  tangled  in  knots  upon  knots.  she  tries  her  best  to  remember  everything  she’s  noticed  about  gareth.  he’s  loud,  sometimes,  his  friends  too.  jackie  doesn’t  like  them,  but  jackie  doesn’t  like  a  lot  of  things.    “  i  don’t  get  it,  are-  are  you  a  satanist?  is  that-  is  that  what  i’m  supposed  to  get?  ”

♡* ♱    gareththegreat.

              laura lee. she was sweet. almost too sweet. she wasn’t a cheerleader type. in fact, she was more of a soccer type. people seemed to leave her alone for the most part because of that. though, if she wasn’t? she’d probably be torn apart by the high school hierarchy. innocent christian girl. “let me guess. you think i’m a satanist, right?”

I guess I wanted to ask you something. I think it’s about God. I think I’m seeing things. In the Bible, people had visions, right? Like prophets and stuff? I was taught that visions were God’s way of communicating. They could either be a warning or a revelation. But how did they know they weren’t just crazy? I think because God gave them faith.

“After playing Chopin, I feel as if I had been weeping over sins that I had never committed and mourning over tragedies that were not my own.”

— Oscar Wilde, 1891 (via pianoprince)