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Chapter 17: Taking Matters Into My Own Hands

I was getting utterly sick of this shit! It was no longer funny. Hell, it wasn't funny to begin with! How Frank and Mikey could go an entire month! Yes an entire month! Of giving me the cold shoulder, stink eyes, and just pure hatred was fucking me over. I knew that what I had done (whatever the fuck it was) wasn't that bad. Yeah I could get all sass and snaps, but that didn't mean they could bitch and be jerky assholes about it! So what!?! They know i'm sassy! It's just in my nature. And their undying love for me has only gotten worser by the day. Have I mention that its been 31 days? Prom was excatly in one week, adn I was determind to get my bro and friend back.

So, yeah. Today's not the best.
I went to the doctor today as a follow up appointment for a check up I had three months ago to see what this large spot on my head was. They said it was probably just a large mole, but that we should come back in three months to check up on it.
We went back today, and the doctor took one look at it, turned to my mom, and said "I think it's gotten bigger." So they measured it again, and yes, it got bigger.
That immediately shifted the entire appointment for options for how to remove the mole because apparently, it has, now that we know how to treat it, an extremely high risk of turning into a melanoma. Or in other words, become cancerous.
So I'm getting a biopsy done. And I'm scared to HELL. The biopsy is to a) double check to make sure its not already cancerous, though my doctors almost positive it's not, and b) to remove the mole.

I wish i wasnt lonely, i wish i wasnt trapped. I wish i could make you happy, just imagine that. But even if i wish for all these things, theres one i want the most. For you to stay and love me, and just hold me close.

THE END

My bands facebook https://www.facebook.com/pages/Artifice/172145779479783?fref=ts
Lyrics:
Davy was a man born pistol in his hand
Always spitting chew, hitting tin cans
That's, when he goes and walks into the bar
buys another round for his fake friends
Said I'm so lonely you don't even know
Put a gun to my head, prey to god it blows
Just, step away there's nothing here to see
Don't got noone mourning for me
Mourning for me yeah

I hate myself
I hate myself
I hate myself
I hate myself

Davy was a man born pistol in his hand
Always saw him working, tending to his land yeah
One day something just snapped
And the whole town saw him retaliate back
Said, I hate my life and everything around
Why don't you burry me six feet in the ground
Just, step away there's nothing here to see
Ain't got nobody mourning for me yeah
Mourning for me yeah

I hate myself
I hate myself
I hate myself
I hate myself

Davy was a man born pistol in his hand

Morning everyone

I really need to catch up on my sleep cause coffee isn't lasting the whole day I guess it's just something that happens when you get older. Anyways I really would love to produce a bands first album cause I think I'll be good at it. I think I'll be the type of producer that will most just sit there and share the occasional idea of something to try on a song. In other news I want to make pages on my wordpress that have my music and song lyrics on them but I'm finding I'm to lazy to do it. Lastly I really enjoy the fact that I gave myself this out let to share my thoughts and options on things going on in the world and in my life. That's all I have on my mind.

Thanks for reading and have a lovely day

Days blended into weeks, weeks into months, and still no word from Serene. Her two-way still sat where she left it, collecting dust. She left most of her personal items at the store, but her most valued possessions she left with Cy.

Cy. She cried herself to sleep most nights and wandered her way through the days. Poly tried to take care of her, but she only managed to push herself away. A part of Cyanide still blamed Poly for Serene's sudden disappearance.

Poly understood. In truth, she still blamed herself. If it hadn't been for her behavior, Mad's outburst would have never happened and she may not have left. In her eyes, it was all her fault. But she couldn't dwell on that. She had work to do.