OUTCASTED ATTITUDES [OPEN]

[buck keith lagonia]

He was on his way to do a repair for a class, homework that hadn't been done. He didn't give a shit but he was tired of the ringing silence that came from nobody speaking to him. He found nobody in any of the classrooms and hid himself away, scratching bored at the carpet like archeology. His head was stuck to some gum at the bottom of the desk where he was hiding. His phone made him jump and hit his head. The number displayed on the screen was his brother, confused as ever Buck rejected the call. His brother was in prison, for rape.. what was he doing calling him? He laughed though when the tumble caused by him hitting his head caused an empty bottle to fall from the desk and smash. Alcohol. What a waste. It was the slowest high in the world. Dreading the next time he had to fight one of the fucking grime of drug dealers he threw some PMA pills into his mouth. He lied... this was the slowest high.

He laid under the desk for an hour and nothing was happening. He threw some more pills in his mouth, worrying that his body was messed up again and was going to vomit it all back. It was still morning but Buck needed this. Needed something to make him live. The only job he'd ever had was selling crystal meth and that business was drowning in police raids. It was absolutely central, what happened next, that he had taken his antidepressants earlier than morning. He remembered all the broadcasting that happened after he took speed with his antidepressants. All those videos they showed him about the dangers. It was too late to think things through now. His body shut down, his legs were enduring spasms that stomach reflexes. His head was monumentally killing him and the next thing he remembered was lazily stretching out in a hospital bed, reluctant to get up for school.

When he heard sounds from outside he flinched, his breathing grew heavy and Buck quickly threw everything aside and ran to shut the door to his room. All the noises, he had to cover his ears to destroy them. He wanted the sounds to stop, he sat in front of the door hoping no one would come in. Defending himself, praying to all the Gods that helped him as a Wicca. Tried to block out the feelings that urged him to take a gun to his head. When his hands felt his knees he realized what he was wearing and he freaked out. Where were his clothes? His shirt, his spandex pants? It was no change to be in the hospital, he used to be in all the time when he used to do heroin.. but now he was realizing that he'd been asleep longer than he'd ever been before. He checked his watch, a Thursday? He remembered school on Monday. Was he here the whole time?

[amanda]

Amanda was perfectly okay, though she was laying with her eyes closed on a cot, her hands wrapped around the knife she slid in her pocket. She wasn't here for anything huge, she just needed a break from people and the things around her. Now she walked in about thirty minutes ago, and that moment was a moment to see.

She was tired of being around Hope and Jordan and their crazy bickering. It was damn well annoying if you asked her. So she faked a panic attack, which wasn't hard cause she almost felt overwhelmed to the point of no return anyway. So she walked silently to the infirmary, told the nurse and she escorted her to lay on a bed for an hour. But the moment she saw the boy on the bed besides her, she really did have a panic attack.

The nurse caught her, and placed her on the bed, Amanda frantically turned her Ipod on to full blast and closed her eyes, trying to forget that boy. She spent forever trying to forget his face, who he was, and what he did to her. Of course it wasn't something really bad, but to Amanda it was something that deserved the stabbing she gave him, and she hoped he'd rot in hell.

Obviously he didn't, cause he seemed to be in the exact same place, and why the hell of all places was he here. As the song changed she heard movement and her eyes flung open as she noticed the boy was up, she pressed pause and let a glare form and her hands darted straight to her pocket. She curled her fingers around the knife in her pocket as she sat up slowly and turned towards him. "What the fuck are you here," she snarled.

She was hoping that maybe if she scared the living crap out of him, maybe stab him again, deeper and with more pressure. He'd either decide to leave after he was healed, or die, either one seemed good to her. But she knew that if she stabbed him, she'd either end up in jail or into Iso, none of which she wanted. Cause she had friends and it would suck to lose them because of this peice of shit.

[buck keith lagonia]

Buck's virginal hope of being alone in the room was gone. He slowly reached over for the glass of water next to his bed and took a strong gulp, putting the empty glass back on the side. His throat was so dry he knew he must've been there a while. "Step off bitch." his forked tongue shot back, he heard the door start to come out of it's place and Buck ran straight back into bed. It was the safest place for him right now, a hospital bed. Under the covers, never to be seen. The doctor came in with his 'charts' and shit. Told Buck that this was the second time his antidepressants have caused a dangerous reaction with illegal drugs and so he would need to come back for regular drug tests. "Get the fuck away from me" Buck shouted as the doctor moved closer, then backed away upon hearing Buck's scream. He'd never wanted Aladdin's lamp so much in his entire life. To go back, change time, making sure he didn't take his antidepressants and put him out of this deathly curse. Drug testing, like he was an animal. So they could monitor him like babysitters.

His next words were completely unlike him. "Do what you have to do." he said in a state of recovering calm. The doctor then exited and Buck presumed then that the knife wielding murderer was a newbie to the hospital genre. "Somebody obviously lied to you about you needing to be here, you look fine to me." he pointed out, getting as comfortable as he could in the bed. Hospital beds were like a second home to him, he was used to it. His heart was a ghost town and drugs were the only way to populate it. Unfortunately, too much population makes resources scarce. He wouldn't allow anyone to keep them from him at bay though. He'd show those bastards. He couldn't go back to the misery that was drinking excessively and feeling a little woozy for like an hour. It was fucking lame.

Buck lost himself in the moment and felt lively for the stupid wires and cables they'd tried to stick to him. Could anyone have asked for this to happen to them? Who were they to chain him like cattle? Hatred and loathing burned in his gaze toward the girl. He wanted her gone, now.

[amanda]

Amanda’s glare only grew when the boy told her to step off. Hell she didn’t want to be here, and she hoped to get away as soon as possible, but she knew that the nurse wouldn’t let her. Not so close to a panic attack, she had to ‘rest’ and make sure she wasn’t going to harm anyone. That’s what she got for being overly ‘violent’ and ‘reckless’ like she was any of those things for real. Hell she could of made Grammy’s for all her academy award winning acting she’s been doing since her fear started to grow more and more frantically. She felt a frown fix on her face as the door opened and her heart beat faster, she was hoping that it was the nurse, telling her she could go. But no, it was a doctor, and for the jerk on the other bed. Why was he even here? Why did she even have to run into him? And in a place she just couldn’t stab him and run, though then again she’d be the first suspect. The people here had to know of his and her past and how they were interconnected on one day, not to long before she was sent her. Well, he was the reason she was sent her.

She ignored what was going on between him and the doctor, and was only hoping that soon the nurse would let her go. But of course, she knew they wouldn’t, not until an hour or so after her panic attack. Because well, if she left so close to a panic attack she could have another one, and was a big danger to herself and others. As if, she was only a danger to the guy across from her, and that was only because she had her usual knife on her. Any other time, she’d be a danger to no one at all, she was small and hell if her clothes weren’t usually black she’d look like a peppy blonde girl. Which was far from what the darling Amanda was, and she hated being underestimated. She had started to relax slightly, not enough to be unprepared if something happened, but enough so she was back lying down and staring at the ceiling. Though the boys next words startled her and she turned towards him with a glare back on her face. “Yeah I don’t belong here. They just won’t let me leave for another half hour or so,” she said through clenched teeth. Hell, she rather of ran into this ass somewhere else, like a hallway where she could escape easily and find Hope or hell even Adrian. She’d rather be in a room with Hope singing and being Hope then in this hospital bed at this moment in time.

Amanda propped herself back up and stood up, though as she did so she lost her balance. Then she remembered she didn’t eat breakfast because she had to hurry here to get away from her fighting roommates. She mentally cursed herself as she sat back on the bed but pulled her knife out, angling it where if a nurse or doctor walked in they wouldn’t see it and it gave her time to shove it back in her pants. She just wanted out of here and she could feel her heart beating faster and faster as she stared at him. “What the fuck do you want from me?” She was almost surprised by the words, but even more the fact that it came out in a softer almost shaky voice, and that made her even more scared then the boy himself.

[buck keith lagonia]

In Amanda's reply he felt amused, his face remained neutral though as he responded. "I don't belong here either." with a choking melancholy tugging at his soul with each word. He laid down properly so that he wasn't maintaining any form of eye contact. He didn't want to, didn't feel fit to. He tried to ignore the fact that his exchange with his doctor was heard by her, sensed by her, experienced by her. He didn't want her knowing anything about him. Least of all an experience with drugs, that made him just as shifty as she was for sticking that knife in his gut. "I want you to leave this room, his hospital and never see me again. I hope that happens soon." Buck replied almost miserably, he was desperate to be alone in the room again. He wanted to be alone, lots of aloneness would be good.

He wanted to pull a lamp from the table beside him and rub it, bringing forth a genie that would make his wish come true. His every wish. Then he wouldn't need drugs, wouldn't need this misery. He didn't want to be with this woman again and it was clear that she wanted to get away too. They were chained animals, that's what they were. The next time the doctor came in was when he brought Buck his methadone. That was nothing new, his doctors had been giving him methadone ever since he'd been trying to be clean of heroin. It was given to him in it's liquid form which Buck gradually swallowed. His chest started to feel less tight after a minute or so, in fact, a lot of pain seemed to depress in his system. Buck actually felt comfortable enough to lie down and close his eyes, ignoring for now the world around him.

He still daydreamt about leaving, but more practically. Like how, when his driving licence was invalid due to his attendance to the methadone treatment programme, he was possibly going to make it home. With the crowded streets full of pedestrians suddenly the hospital seemed like a comfortable alternative. Credit where credit was due. He didn't know, in his indulging daze, what was so wrong with blondie anyway. She didn't look in the least bit threatening. She could still stab him but who cared? His family would love his death, embrace it, smother it. She would be doing what his family wanted. He did want to make them happy after all.