It was the weekend, and instead of doing what average girls would do; have sleepovers, go to Starbucks, stuff like that, I was sitting on the curb.

It wasn't like this wasn't usual. I was always here. It was kind of sad how the day drowned out every day, and was reborn the next day.

When I was a bit younger, I learned about the Aztecs. They were so confusing to me then. I mean, why would anyone kill people so the sun would rise again?

Now I wonder if their viewpoint is correct. They thought that if they didn't sacrifice multiple people a day, the sun would die out, never to be seen again.

Well, people die everyday. Maybe that's the only reason the sun comes out. I'd rather have no sun.

Henry believed in that theory too. They were gruesome sacrifices, but they did have truth in them. It was like a thorn piercing through your skin. You could always pretend it wasn't there, but you knew it was.

I stared out into the road I saw everyday. Cars still buzzed past, music still blared. Even though Henry was dead.

Blood seemed to drip from the branches of a tree, but it was just rain.

Lightning traveled by in a flash, scorching the ground where it hit. Then a surprisingly loud rumble of thunder broke through the clouds.

Stupid rain. Stupid life.

Sometimes people would stop by my curb and ask if I as ok.

"I'm fine," I said kicking my feet up and down. Hardly anyone asked anymore, because everyone who drove past were regulars. They knew how much I was here.

So many people have seen me crying, hair sticking to my face from tears.

I've always wanted to be popular.

I shook my head, my hair flipping to my back and resting there.

What a nice day to sit on a concrete curb, surrounded by cars.