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Post by victoria hope jean on Dec 10, 2010 17:38:50 GMT -5
She was pretty tired, but she couldn't sleep. She tossed and turned in her bed for hours, having went to bed at 8:30, and now it's 11:45. She groaned and looked at the ceiling. She knew why she couldn't sleep, but she'd rather not think about it. She didn't just want to lay here in the dark when she had no ways of going to sleep. She turned on her bedside lamp and put on her slippers. She ran a brush through her hair and grabbed her guitar before walking quietly out of the dorm. She didn't know where she was headed; just somewhere to relax and play.
Hope ended up in the common room. She bit her lip and slipped off her slippers, sitting down on one of the sofas. She pulled her guitar up onto her lap and started tuning it. Once she'd gotten the tune that she wanted, she started playing One Day Too Late from Skillet. "Tick tock hear the clock count down. Wish the minute hand could be rewound. So much to do and so much I need to say; will tomorrow be too late?"
[/i] She loved this song so much; it described her so well. She forgot where she had heard it, but she knew that she had to learn how to play it the minute the she had. She fell inlove with it, I guess you could say. "Feel the moment slip into the past, like sand through an hourglass. In the madness I guess I just forget to do all the things I said. Time passes by. Never thought I'd wind up one step behind. Now I've made my mind up."[/i] She closed her eyes and let herself get into the music. It wasn't that hard for her; music was her passion. It's all that she wanted to do in life. Whether it be teaching it or playing it. All she wanted to do was what she was doing now. "Today I'm gonna try a little harder. Gonna make every minute last longer. Gonna learn to forgive and forget, 'cause we don't have long, gonna make the most of it."[/i] She was playing the guitar so hard, she was kind of afraid that a string was going to pop her in the eye. She knew that it was possible. "Today I'm gonna love my enemies, reach out to somebody who needs me. Make a change, make the world a better place, 'cause tomorrow could be one day too late. One day too late.."[/i] She played for a few moments, just enjoying it, before whispering the last words of the chorus, "One day too late.."She continued playing the song, but she didn't sing anymore. She was afraid that she would wake someone, oddly enough. She just stared off into space and thought about her time here at Hawthorne. It had all started off great, but now she was back where she started. She hated herself, but this time she also felt guilty about things that she'd done not too long ago. She really wished that her mom could be there beside her, so she could just lay in her moms lap like she used to when she was upset. But that wasn't going to happen, because she was here. Her mom sent her here so she could be better, but she knew now that it wasn't going to happen anytime soon. Hope let out a breath and set her guitar to the side, before pulling her knees up to her chest and wrapping her arms around them. She really missed her family, and she hadn't even been there for that long. She missed fighting with her brother, and teaching her sister to play piano. She missed shopping with her mother and riding horses with her dad. She was just homesick and she couldn't do anything about it. words;; six hundred fourty-five tag;; open outfit;; click!notes;;[/size][/blockquote][/blockquote]
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Post by maxxie nolan winters on Dec 13, 2010 18:53:59 GMT -5
Maxxie was roaming the halls like he always did before going to bed. He had watch in his pocket. Was it his? No. He found it lying on a desk in the back of one of the detention rooms. As he passed the room he saw the nice watch sitting on the desk where a student had just gotten up. It was a tall male, looked about his age. As the student was walking towards the teacher Maxxie quickly went into the room and snatched it off the desk. Would the kid realize it? Probably. Did Maxxie care? Of course not. That was part of his anger management, theft. Maxxie reached in his hoodie pocket and grabbed the watch. 11:45. Well in about in hour he would probably be asleep, but as of now he was going to continue to roam the halls.
As he passed the common room Maxxie stopped in his tracks. An unusual sound, one that he rarely heard. Guitar,. and singing. That brought Maxxie back to the days when his brother was alive and sang songs to him. Not that his brother was any good at singing, he could play a killer guitar.
Maxxie walked up to the common room, and let the sound fill his ears. This girl played the guitar well, she also had an amazing voice too. He could only see the back of her head, but she looked beautiful from the back. The tune she sang seemed familiar to Maxxie, but he could not put a name to the song. He found himself humming the tune in his head though, the more the girl sang. As she continued to sing Maxxie leaned his head against the frame of the doorway and smiled.
After standing there awkwardly in teh doorway Maxxie peeled his head from the frame and slowly walked up to the girl. He did not want to scare her, make her jump or run away, or anything. He thought a nice conversation close to midnight would be nice. Besides, as he learned to realize himself, someone to talk to late at night was a good thing on some days. He had no idea who this girl was, what kind of day she was having, or why she was even here at Hawthorne.
Coming up to the couch Maxxie placed his hand on the back of it. He drew in a breath and spoke to the girl. "You know, you have an amazing voice," Maxxie complimented. Hopefully, the girl would be amiable towards him and the two could have a nice conversation. Maxxie smiled at her, not sitting on the couch next to her. [/size]
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Post by victoria hope jean on Dec 13, 2010 19:19:16 GMT -5
Hope really wished that she could sleep. She was sick and tired of not being able to sleep. This happened often for her, not being able to sleep. It was either because of reoccuring nightmares, or because she was too upset to sleep. She wasn't upset and she didn't even have the chance to have a nightmare tonight, it was because she was guilty. She was still upset about what happened in her dorm the other night. It was all of her fault, and she could have stopped anything that happened, but she chose not too.
She sighed and closed her eyes, allowing herself to get lost in her music again. She belonged here.. At Hawthorne. Unlike some of the other teenagers that were here, she knew that she was here for a reason. She knew that she deserved to be here. She tried to kill herself, for goodness sake. Sure, some people think that's only a way to get attention, but she didn't want attention. She wanted to be dead. She really just wanted to punch people in the face that called her an attention whore. She didn't need people to call her anymore names. She'd been called everything in the book.
Hope slowly opened her eyes when she heard a male voice speaking to her. She looked up at the person and smiled warmly at him, "Thank you very much," she said, a light pink color appearing on her cheeks at the compliment on her voice. She knew that she was musically talented, but it still embarassed her to be complimented on it. She wasn't sure why; she thought that it could be to the fact that she hated attention. Actually, she was quite positive that it was because of that.
She noticed that the boy didn't sit down and she stopped playing her guitar for a moment, "You can sit down, you know," she said, motioning him to do so. She figured that if he was going to be in there, they could have a nice conversation. It wasn't like he was scaring her in any way. Besides, she loved talking to new people, making new friends. Their problems didn't matter to her. They never did.
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Post by maxxie nolan winters on Dec 14, 2010 16:59:41 GMT -5
Maxxie smiled. Was he making the girl laugh just by complimenting her? Or was he himself making her blush? Either way it was, Maxxie felt better on the inside for it. Not only did he make her blush, he made a beautiful girl blush. The girl was gorgeous. Her smile was like no other that he had ever seen in his life. She had a natural beauty to her, and when he realized Maxxie hoped that she knew that, and did not cover her face in gloppy makeup because she did not need it.
He was glad when she told him to sit down. It would be less awkward then him just standing there like a creeper looking over her shoulder. Maxxie jumped over the top of the couch and landed on one of the open cushion. In his head the action went more smoothly than it actually did. When he got comfortable Maxxie brought his feet up onto the couch cushions, and wrapped his arms around his knees.
"I'm Maxxie by the way. Passive anger issues, senior," Maxxie smiled. He was cheery for some reason unknown, maybe just being around a new person. He held his out to her so she could shake it. OOC// Sorry itis so short! [/size]
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Post by victoria hope jean on Dec 15, 2010 14:38:59 GMT -5
She watched as he jumped over the sofa and laughed softly. Was he trying to be smooth? Well, whatever the reason, it was fun to watch. She bit her bottom lip and leaned back into the sofa. It was silent for a couple of moments, but it didn't really matter to her. She liked the quiet.. sometimes. It gave her time to think, but she hated thinking at the same time. All of her thoughts included things that she couldn't stand to think about. That was one of the reasons that she couldn't sleep.
Hope smiled at him again and grabbed his hand, lightly, shaking it. Passive anger issues? That wasn't so bad. She had met people with worse issues than that, but people with anger issues frightened her. The guy that made her so fucked up had anger issues, but she knew that his weren't passive. He was aggressive, demanding. "I'm Hope. Suicidal, anorexic, junior," She said with a light shrug after saying that she was a junior. She noticed that everytime she met someone new, they told them their problems. it was kind of weird, but then again it was nice to know that they weren't afraid to say that something was wrong with them.
She looked over at the boy. He was quite attractive, that was for sure, and he seemed to be very cheery for some reason. Which was odd. Who was cheery at a quarter to midnight? You would think they would be dead tired. Then, she remembered that they were teenagers and hardly any teenager went to bed early. It was nice, though, talking to someone that was actually cheery. Most of the people here just complained about the school,, even though the school wasn't even that bad.
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Post by maxxie nolan winters on Dec 16, 2010 16:42:16 GMT -5
Maxxie enjoyed this girl. She was quiet yes, but she seemed down to earth and nice,which was kind of a hard thing to find here at Hawthorne. She had a sweetness to her too, a sort of innocence, , like a lost puppy. When she said who she was, and her problems that is when Maxxie realized that maybe she was a lost puppy. Or, just lost in this world. He had a sort of connection with her though.
Hope. At first Maxxie thought it was a contradiction that her name was hope, yet if she was suicidal she had no hope at all. That is when Maxxie stopped his thoughts in his head. He had been through all of this before, with his brother.
Maxxie scooted closer to her and placed his arm behind the girls head. Maybe in a time like this, being in a shit hole of a school like this, she just needed to be comforted. Did he need to explain to her where he came from? How he could feel empathetic to her? Maybe he did, because it would bring a mutual understanding between the two of them.
"Hope, I'm not judging you or anything, but I know how you feel," Maxxie paused. Maybe he wasn't ready to talk about all this just yet. She would be the first person to know, not even his parents knew the real story. Maxxie had only been talking to the girl for a minute or so, and they hadn't even talked that much, so there was no need for him to tell her his story, but he felt that he needed to. "I know how you feel Hope, because, I'm, I'm supposed to be dead," Maxxie stuttered out. He felt a little relief when he did tell her though,he had not mentioned the details to her, didn't plan on it unless she asked, but he did feel somewhat better. [/size]
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Post by victoria hope jean on Dec 16, 2010 17:22:38 GMT -5
He knew how she felt? That was hard for her to believe. He didn't even know why she was like the way that she was. He didn't know the history behind her depression, nor what all she had done to herself. Well, obviously the visible scars that were all over her body told one story, but she never bothered to mention them. She went a little crazy when the depression first starting. She cut up her arms, all the way to her shoulders. Hell, there were even scars on her stomach and legs. She hardly ever wore things like she was wearing now. She usually had her arms and legs covered.
She never noticed before, but when someone came around, she stayed pretty quiet. She began to wonder what people thought about her when they came around. Did they think of her as a freak, or as just some quiet, nice girl? She hoped for the latter, because she actually was very nice. That's why she didn't say that she doubted him when he said that he knew how she felt. But, she would give him a chance to tell his story.
It was strange that he was already telling her his story. But, in a way, she liked it. Was she really that trustworthy? Gosh, she sure hoped so. She could keep a secret to the grave. Hell, she has kept many of her secrets from people. Her eyes widened slightly when he stuttered out that he was supposed to be dead. Her light brown eyes moved to look at him, and she cocked her head to the side lightly, in confusion, "What do you mean? If you don't mind my asking, ofcourse," She said, in a quiet tone.
Hope wondered if, after he told his story, if she would even have the guts to tell him her story. She didn't really like talking about what had happened to her. When the subject of her past was brought up, she went numb. She couldn't really feel anything; it was like she wasn't there. She hated reliving her past, and lately, it seemed that she had to relive more times that she liked. People would always ask what happened to her, especially the counselors. Oh God, how she couldn't stand the counselors. She snapped out of her thoughts. She knew that, if she felt like she could, she would tell him her story. If she felt the vibe that she could trust him.
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Post by maxxie nolan winters on Dec 23, 2010 16:52:46 GMT -5
Did Maxxie really want to tell Hope all of his memories he had so long pushed away? Did he want to allow those memories to resurface? He didn't want to cry in front of her, he didn't care about looking like a man, he just didn't like to cry. Usually when he felt sadness or remorse about his past he would go for a walk, find something he wanted to steal, or better yet he would find any bottle of alcohol and finish it off, no matter how full the bottle was.
Maxxie did a quick glance around the room. For two reasons. One, he wanted alcohol in a last hope to surpress the thoughts fresh in his mind. Two, he wanted to make sure no one else was around to eavesdrop in on any conversation that he and Hope were about to have. He couldn't get rid of the thoughts now, they were going to come out weather he wanted them to or not, and he couldn't not tell Hope anything after he mentioned it already, he wasn't that cold or heartless towards her. Besides, the two could possibly bond from his story.
Maxxie tried to clear his head before he decided to speak. "When I was 13, my brother was 15. He knew what went on more than I did," Maxxie stopped. Images of the nights came into his head. He could feel a lump in his throat, he wanted to cry, but he told himself not to. "Since I was about five I had dreams about my parents," Maxxie put an emphasis on dreams hoping that Hope would understand that he wasn't sure weather he was actually dreaming or they were real. "My parents raped me, and my brother both. I don't remember it ever happening to us at teh same time, but we were both raped by them. I knew it couldn't be a dream because what five year old makes that stuff up? Eight years later, my brother said he had enough and we had to do something. We had it end it. He told me to kill myself with him, we would do that together. We had it all planned out. But a day before it was supposed to happen my brother hung himself, I never knew why, but Hope, I'm supposed to be dead!" Maxxie yelled. He had no idea he was yelling, and he didn't mean to. He had kept all this bottled up for so long, and he finally burst. His body was shaking and tears were streaming down his face.
[/size]
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Post by victoria hope jean on Dec 23, 2010 17:57:31 GMT -5
When he started his story, she didn't know how to take it. Dreams? So, he didn't know if what he was talking actually happened, or if he dreamed them up. She would absolutely go insane if she didn't know if something actually happened or not. Ofcourse, she knew that what had happened to her was real, she was in too much pain not to know it wasn't real. She had too many bruises on her skin not to know. She felt sympathetic towards Maxxie, but she wasn't going to say so. She knew that she hated it when people sympathized for her.
So, he did know how it felt. They did understand each other. She wanted to smile at that, but at that moment in time, it would have been inappropriate to do so. It had just been so hard to find someone that she could relate to in this place. Yeah, there were some people here that she could talk to, but they weren't raped, nor had they tried to actually kill themselves over it.
Hope jumped when he yelled all of a sudden. Yelling scared her, it always had; ever since she would always fight with her brother and his friends. She was too much of a quiet person to put up with yelling, which is why it surprised people when she got angry and screamed. She moved her body to where she was completely facing Maxxie, and put a hand softly on his shoulder, "I don't think a child could make up a nightmare like that. I understand, completely, Maxxie," she said, quietly, "I was raped, too. By my brother's best friend."
She didn't think that she was going to tell him, but to know that someone could understand where you came from meant a lot, especially at this school. She hated seeing someone as upset as Maxxie was right now; she couldn't stand to see someone cry. She cared too much about others to see someone do that. She really just wanted to take all of the pain that Maxxie felt, and throw it away. But she knew that it wouldn't be possible. A simple statement, much like the one that she just said, could mean so much to someone. Well, to her, anyway. If she found someone that could relate to how she felt, how her problems were, then she would have jumped on the chance. That's exactly what she did, now, that she met Maxxie.
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Post by maxxie nolan winters on Dec 29, 2010 1:37:35 GMT -5
Maxxie felt embarassed. His face was flushed, and a few tears were still sliding down his face. He wasn't really embarrasses because he told his story, no. He was embarrassed because he spent so many years in his life building up a wall to forget all the memories of his rapes. He got into drinking alcohol to help keep those walls alive and no be able to be torn down. Then here he was, sitting with Hope, for no longer than 20 minutes, and he just tears down every wall he ever built, and he had no idea what he did it. He wasn't like himself around her. Usually he was quiet, and passive, yet he engaged himself in conversation and opened up, all while being sober. Usually he wasn't like this sober, it took at least a small sip of alcohol for him to open up, even if someone was prying into him.
Raped by her brother's best friend. How horrible. She either could have been very close to her brother, and his friend, or just the opposite. He didn't want to pry into her thoughts, into her life. He didn't want to see her cry like he did. Maxxie could not stand to see people cry. He had no idea how to console them, especially of they were people his age. But still, Maxxie wanted to knwo more. He and Hope were similar, weather they wanted to admit it or not.
"My heart goes to you Hope. You're strong," was all that Maxxie could spit out. He didn't want to look into her eyes and just ask her; "Oh you were raped too? That sucks for the both of us. Your brother's best friend? Were you close? Does he go to Hawthorne? If he does, that must be really awkward" No Maxxie didn't want to seem like a total douche. But while he asked the question in his head, he realized something. Maybe Hope's rapist did go here. He was a student at Hawthorne, and that might explain her, her situation, and what all she goes through. Maxxie wanted to pry her open with a bunch of questions, but decided not to. If Hope wanted to tell him her story, then she would when she was ready, and he could hold a respect for her.
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Post by victoria hope jean on Dec 29, 2010 22:13:03 GMT -5
Hope was glad that he could trust her with that story of his, and it made her feel closer to the boy that she'd just met. She had always been the trustworthy type, but people never believed her back home because of what happened. Fucking Alex had to ruin everything for her, and turn everyone against her. She shook that thought out of her mind and began to wonder about Maxxie. How did he handle all of the bad feelings about what happened to him? The way that she handled it was terrible, probably the worst way to handle a situation. Okay, not probably, it was definite.
When he said that she was strong, she smiled sadly and shook her head, immediately disagreeting with him, "Maxxie, if I were strong, I wouldn't be here right now," She said, quietly. A strong person would cut them selves, everywhere they possibly could. A strong person wouldn't try to kill themselves because of what people said, or stop eating because people called them fat. She was weak; pathetic, even. And now, she couldn't get better knowing that the person that got her sent here, had been sent here as well. It was hard, knowing that at any moment he could snap, and those horrible months of her life could come back in just a second.
"I'll tell you the worst parts of that whole ordeal," She said, leaning back so she was leaning onto the back of the sofa. These were two of the three reasons that she hated her life so much. Well, one of the reasons just recently came into play, but it still ruined everything for her, "My brother doesn't even believe me, and just recently, that guy, my brother's best friend, was sent here. To Hawthorne." She remembered when she saw him, and she broke down. It was terrible. And everything that had happened in that one day hurt her, so bad.
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Post by maxxie nolan winters on Jan 4, 2011 21:32:26 GMT -5
Maxxie sat on the couch. Hope was like the mother he never had. His new mother-figure. She had been through much of what Maxxie had gone through, and she seemed to be one of the only people who he not only found support in, but also some console in her. His heart skipped a beat. He didn't have any romantic feelings for her, but making himself realize that she could be a good friend, and someone he could trust and like made him happy. Hope was like the counselor Maxxie never had while he was at Hawthorne.
He wanted to rebut with the girl when she said she had no strength. He wanted to tell her that she was still alive, and well. If that wasn't strength after all she had been through, then Maxxie had no idea what strength was even more. He bit his tongue, he didn't want to start a dispute between he and his new friend, his new mom. Maybe she didn't want to believe that she was strong, but still, after being told something after a long time, it seeps into your brain. maybe if Maxxie told her enough, she would have her own strength.
As she told her story Maxxie felt a little of his own regret. Their lives were so similar. Only Maxxie could only feel worse for Hope. He gets the feeling away from his rape, but to him it seems that Hope doesn't deal with it in the same way. He found himself schooching closer to Hope as she told her story, and when he was close enough to her, he wrapped his arm around her head, to show he was there to comfort her. The she said it. Her rapist goes here. Maxxie's heart dropped, and his mouth flew open. "Hope. You facing your rapist everyday proves how strong you really are," Maxxie blurted out, but did not regret he said it. He wanted to find out who her rapist was, but didn't want to ask her. Her rapist needed to get punched, at the very least. [/size]
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Post by victoria hope jean on Jan 5, 2011 21:57:24 GMT -5
It was funny how everytime that you would meet someone here at Hawthorne, or maybe it was any troubled teens school, they would ask why you were here. It was just how she thought it would be. Well, kind of. It wasn't like the whole, "Hi, I'm Hope and I'm here for suicide attempts," then almost right after you would hear a chorus of, "Hi Hope." But, even if you were just alone with someone, they would ask you why you were here. She got to where it didn't bother her as much anymore. She could easily say that she was here for suicide attempts and anorexia. The only thing that got her was whenever you told someone what you were here for, especially if it was a case like hers, they would ask what brought it on. It drove her insane. She didn't like having to relive the pain of those torturous months that she went through back in Texas. But, she wasn't at all bothered talking to Maxxie about it. He had a sense of trust about him, and she liked it.
Hope couldn't help but looked over at Maxxie and give him a ghost of a smile. It was nice of him to try to prove how strong she was, but she just couldn't believe it. A strong person wouldn't do half of the things that she'd done. She was much too weak. She just knew that life was going to throw things at her that she knew she couldn't handle, but she'd have to suck it up. No matter how much it really killed her inside. She wasn't going to fight with him, however. If he wanted to think of her as a strong person, then he could. She just didn't like the glory that came with being a strong person if she didn't believe it in her heart. It felt wrong, she kept wanting to tell him how wrong he was, but she couldn't. She didn't want to fight with him about it, that would be ridiculous, "Thanks, Maxxie. That means alot to hear," she said quietly.
Hope picked up her guitar and strummed it for a moment, before beginning to play the acoustic version of Brick by Boring Brick by Paramore, quietly. She thought that maybe playing a little bit of music would lift of their spirits, put them in a better mood. She didn't want to be in a bad mood, she was always in one. Way too often. Right now, she just wanted to relax so that she could go to sleep, "So, umm... What do you do for fun around here? Lately, this is all I've found to do," she said, mentioning her playing the guitar.
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Post by maxxie nolan winters on Jan 15, 2011 18:03:57 GMT -5
Hope. for some reason the girl gave Maxxie a slight amount of hope. Maybe that is why she was named that. For some reason he liked her, more than he liked many people here at Hawthorne. Hope seemed to be his new-found mother figure. He felt like he could tell hope anything and she would not look at him like a freak, unlike many people in this school. Hope also made him so open. usually he was all tensed up, but she had him opening up before anyone else ever has. And, the surprising thing to Maxxie, he did all this sober. Usually he had to be tipsy to open up to anyone.
Was there no way for her to realize how strong she really was? Maxxie thought Hope was one of the strongest people he had met here at Hawthorne. He couldn't imagine if his parents taught here, after all the times they raped him, Maxxie would have definately done something more destructive to himself. Sure, Hope was suicidal, but she was alive. He wanted to point that out to her, but he didn't think she would agree with him. maybe she was just stubborn that way.
When she grabbed the guitar, and played a song that was familiar to Maxxie's ear, he smiled. He loved hearing her play her guitar, even though this was only his second time hearing it. He realized the song and sang along the words, quietly, before he forgot the rest of the words. He laughed when he stopped sining, but hummed along. Hope asked him what he liked to do for fun, but he wasn't sure if she would like his answer. He had been honest so far, and he had no plan on stopping. "I drink. Cover up all my emotions, and get crazy." [/size]
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Post by victoria hope jean on Feb 6, 2011 21:44:56 GMT -5
Drinking; oh how she hated it. She watched both Connor and Alex get high and drunk so many times, it made her sick. Everytime that they would get like that, they'd turn into someone she didn't even know; ofcourse, she hated that her brother had turned into someone like that, she knew that she couldn't stop them. They had tried to get her to try all that stuff, when they were all on good terms, but she always refused. She liked knowing what happened the night before, and she wanted to stay that way. She was just one of those people; straight edge, as Alex used to say. He thought that it was stupid, but she didn't see what was so wrong about staying sober all of the time. It was better for her health anyway.
So, when she heard that Maxxie drank, she kind of wanted to tell him how wrong it was, how he shouldn't be doing it. You know, scold him, basically. Hope didn't say anything for a few moments, maybe even a minute, she just let her hands move on the guitar as she starred off into the distance, before her playing stopped and she looked over at Maxxie, "Why do people do that?" She asked out of the blue, "If you get drunk enough, you can't even remember what happened the night before and act like a complete jackass. It's bad for your health.. Why would you want to do something like that?" Ofcourse, she was just speaking of what she'd seen from Connor and his friends. She had no room to talk, though, about health troubles. You could see her bones, for God sakes. And self harm, and she had harmed herself in many different ways, wasn't exactly the smartest thing to do either.
Biting her bottom lip, she started playing the song again, softly. She didn't want to get onto him for doing something that made him forget things, or to cover up his emotions, but there were different things to do rather than getting shifaced. Well, in her book anyway. Sure, her ways weren't any better. If someone looked at her body, they'd see the silver scars from the blade and burns all over her body; arms, legs, even stomach and hips. She got carried away when it came to selfharm. One could even say she got addicted to it, because for that small fraction that she wounded herself, she could forget about the emotional pain. She let out a soft sigh and began speaking again, "I guess I shouldn't say anything, it's not like what I do to forget things are any better. So, uh.. I'm sorry."
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