Hello. Today I'll be introducing you to Sciatica Jones, another character in my next story. Sciatica? Could you start by telling us how you were named?
*sigh* Well, my parents never wanted me. My mom started having back problems when she was pregnant with me, and again they didn't really want me, so... yeah. Sometimes I think the only reason they didn't get an abortion was so they could make me suffer. They didn't have to do much there, because everywhere I went people made fun of me for my name; like I was John Jacob freakin' Jingleheimerschmidt.
I think the only nice thing they ever did for me was let me keep a stray cat that followed me home once. I named it Laul. *smirk* Nice name, huh? *sigh* He was a good cat. Sometimes when I was having a really bad day I would talk to him, like he was a person. It made me feel better to just get it all off my chest, it didn't even matter he couldn't talk back. But then... but then he ran away. I don't know why. Maybe it was the stray cat in him. I cried so much when that happened, I was 15; I thought I was too old to cry like that.
So... I guess that's when I became "emo". God, I hate that word. Sometimes I thought about cutting, but I always got too scared to do it. There was another "emo" there at the school, Nicole. we used to talk a lot, like about how ****ed up our lives were, and things like that. I guess we got pretty close. I don't know. Her, and my English teacher, Mr. Widdleston, were about the only people that understood me. I knew Mr. Widdleston had a second job, so like, he would talk to me about responsibility and making tough decisions no one else would understand. *shiver* He was a little weird, though. A few times I caught him looking at Nicole and some of the other girls on the way out of class...
But anyways,uh, english... yeah. He had this really big assignment for us before spring break. We were supposed to make up TEN new words and use them in a fifteen-hundred word essay on death, and give definitions for our words. Okay maybe he was REALLY weird. So me and Nicole worked on our words and essays together. We'd be emailing each other ideas for words and definitions. It was tough, because I wasn't allowed a cell phone(I'm not making that up) and I only got to use the computer when my parents were away at work in the evenings.
*sigh* Then one day it all started to go wrong. After english class Mr. Widdleston asked me if I'd gotten any strange emails or phone calls or letters. I said no, and that obviously was the answer he was looking for because he smiled and said "Tell me if you do." On the bus, Nicole almost screamed at me: "Why haven't you been returning my emails?!" "I have! I've been doing it every day!" Maybe her connection was bad or something. But she still kept going. "Okay, then what's this?" She pulled some papers with weird writing on them from her backpack. I took them "They look like letters. They--" I realized I could almost read them. They were five characters used for vowels, the consonants were shaped like clouds and waves and rocks... and then it hit me. Once I had some of the consonants down, I recognized three words I had made up. Sys, hreoith, and lith. "Nicole, did you write this?" Mistake.
"No, I didn't!! Every ****ing time I try to print out your emails, they print out this instead! I DIDN'T DO IT!! You know what, JUST TAKE THEM!! TAKE THEM AND DON'T EVER TALK TO ME AGAIN!! I HATE YOU!!!"
Unfortunately, me and Nicole got off at the last two bus stops. She sat next to me until there was enough room to move to another seat. After I got home, I tried to get over the argument with Nicole. I took one of Dad's beers(I'm not an alcoholic) but even that didn't help like it sometimes did. I tossed the bottle onto the couch with the others Dad leaves there when he's done. Then about half an hour before my parents got home, about five o'clock, I decided to just leave. And not even come back. In a few minutes I packed a bag, and was about to leave when the trash can caught my eye.
I pulled the weird letters out and looked at them for a little bit. I worked out a few more of the consonants, then picked my jaw off of the floor after I read the long word at the end of the letter. Sciatica.
Next time I'll introduce you to Narc.
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What Causes Sciatica?by DrGeorgeBest395,181 views
No, I am not trying to make an emo "joke".
Her name was just a starting point when I was making the character, I never intended for it to be funny.
And I also agree with you on your opinion of emo jokes. You might never notice an "emo", which is just one reason you don't know who you might be offending. And really, good, positive attention is what most "emos" need. Not the "look at me I'm a freak" kind; that only hurts.
~Critdizzle
Critdizzle 2 years ago
r u trying to make a joke about emos? thats wrong and mean! y would u do something like that? u have no idea what some emo could be going though andd ur gonna make a joke about it.
xHeartxBrokenx345x 2 years ago