The story so far:
I remember that night after our first meeting clearly. It was when I realized I was not alone. I rushed home, chewing on the odd events that occured in Rose's room. Why in yuck's sake did she turn from suave new kid to cut throat bitch in the winning time of just 5 seconds?
I opened the door to my house and dragged my body into our little ranchette that resemble something out of legos or those wooden blocks that fall so easily. Either way I was in no mood to be living in Ashton, Idaho. I turned on my dinosaur aged computer. The stupid DSL of course didn't understand I had to search something urgently. Google appeared out of no where and I typed in search engine, "mood swings". I mean there must of been a reason she went from giddy girl to evil terrorist so quickly. Some websites appeared and started rattling off explanations-bipolar disorder, border line disorder, mental illnesses, serial killers, sociopaths-the list continued. I clicked on one of those medical definition websites and read the description for bipolar disorder;
a mood disorder with episodes of both depression and mania.
That seemed kind of like Rose. I mean she was kind of hyper and scary when I fell off her bed, isn't that a sign of mania? Either way I was intrigued. I mean, I was probably the sole person in Ashton who even saw a psychiatrist. My lackability of relaxation made me prone to weird panic attacks that only occured when I was intimidated by some task, like performing on stage.Either way my mom shleped me to Twins Fall, Idaho for a psychological work up and some Asian chick declared I suffered from panic attacks and must be medicated immediatly.
After that terrifying afternoon at Rose's house, I was sure I shouldn't itneract with her. I mean if I hit her door and she screamed till her lungs nearly burst, then what would happenened if I accidently stepped on her toe or something? I mean she was a threat to my safety and health!
Either way, math class the next day was extremely tedious. My shoulders wouldn't slide down to their sockets since I could feel Rose's coal brown eyes watching the back of my head, trying to read and analyze every movement of my body. I could feel rays of emotion steaming off her, bouncing onto me, as if she was trying to tell me she was scared of my reaction, or she was just plain old scared of herself. It was surprising that I didn't faint or hyperventilate from the amount of stress closing in on me.
Once math class ended I packed up my things slowly, to avoid passing her on the way out. I was concern, I admit, but I didn't know how to handle this situation. I still liked her. I mean she was real. I was tired of these blonde and blue eyed potatoe stuffing whores who ran loose, with no sense of compassion. I wanted somebody I could relate to, who was an outsider. I wanted Rose to stand by me, tell me what she felt, help me grow a pair. But at that very moment as I saw her body ebbing into the hallway, I was intimdated by her. She was what I wanted in my life, but of course I was too ignorant at the time to realize it.
I walked slowly out to my locker, ducking behind jocks and cheerleaders groping eachother. I noticed a pink post it wedged in between the vents of my locker. I pulled it out and in her lacy print Rose wrote,
sorry about yesterday. didn't mean to hurt you in anyway. There's somthings about me I try to hide but for some reason last night was one of those odd times where the monster inside me was unleash. You must understand that I really wish you could be my homie. Meet me at my house again if you'want to give this another shot.
La Rose Manila Johnsen
Something in me just clicked when I saw her name scribbled out on the post it. It was like de ja vu, plus freaky wet dream, and super space alien abduction all thrown together. I knew that something big was coming. I felt my hands quiver with anticipation. I needed her uber urban manner and screwed up way in my life. I think I saw Jesus leaning on the locker next to me, because this was most deff a devine working. I needed this. I needed Rose in my life. Or else....would I die?
Thats what it felt like. I would die without Rose. I'm sure of it.