the looks you give are so contagious,

[tracekingston]

YOU COUNT EM ONE, TWO THREE *;

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You look so cute when you get that mad.[/size]
YOU DRAIN THE LIFE FROM ME AND IT FEELS OH SO GOOD.[/size][/center]

You have got to be kidding me. Outside? I don't want to go outside. its miserable out there! Trace shouted as he locked eyes with a staff member who was currently trying to persuade trace to go outside and get some freash air. He still wasn't that used to stanfield. it bugged the shit out of him actually, he loathed the place. Shaking his head he sat down on his bed, crossing his arms like a three year old, a pout set firmly on his face. Nah bro, im staying in my room. thanks. now run along and go clean some bed pans or something he mumbled as he leaned back against the wall his bed was pressed against in his area of his dorm. Normally trace wasn't like this, normally he was very hyper active and always good natured, but recently he'd become a little pissy. easy to set off as well. he missed his drugs, he needed drugs. cigarettes could only get him so far in life before he needed a true fix. After a few more minutes of arguing with the staff member trace finally gave in. he was tired, and annoyed, and was just hoping that maybe some air would do him some good. clear his mind and all that junk. Shaking his head he stood up, grabbing his sunglasses off the bedside table along with his cigarettes and his hand dandy lighter.

T

[/b][/size]race had dressed like how he always dressed, casual. A white vneck covered his torso, a few words from the tattoo that covered his collar bones peeking out, and faded blue skinny jeans with a few rips and tears throughout the fabric hung threatening off his pointed hips. He had also managed to shove his feet into a pair of his favorite black vans that had seen better days. Flicking his sunglasses off his head to cover his eyes he pushed his bangs to the side and followed the guy outside. The staff member wasn't a talkative one, which Trace was thankful for because he didn't feel like talking to some guy that would more then likely be searching him on the way back inside for drugs. Jeesh, no trust in rehab. Scratching at his arm he exited the building, squinting against the sunlight. Hmph, what Trace wouldn't give for the cold and hoodies. Watching the staff member walk away trace moved away himself towards the lawn. Must be something to do out there, or atleast he assumed there would be.

S[/size]tepping onto the grass Trace reached into his back pocket and pulled out his Salems, tapping out a cigarette he placed it between his lips and lit up quickly, unhaling deeply. Mhmm, niotine. Continuing his walk he let the cigarette dangle between his lips as he pushed his hands into his jean pockets, surveying the people around him. There were a couple of kids hanging out in their respectful cliques, which repulsed trace. the whole clique thing, whatever, it was stupid and it bugged him. Getting a decent distance away from the closest person trace plucked his cigarette from his lips and tossed it to the ground, grounding the tip into the grass with the toe of his shoe. Dropping to the ground he crossed his legs, pulling out another cigarette he quickly repeated the process of lighting up before dropping the lighter and pack to his side as he leaned back in the grass, closing his eyes. What to do what to do. Eventually he felt someone staring at him, but without bothering to open his eyes he pulled the cigarette from his mouth and exhaled Your blocking my sun he mumbled, putting the cigarette back between his lips. If it was someone he knew, theyd talk. If it was someone he didnt, well, who knew what theyd do.

TAGGED: callista!
WEARING: described in post.
WORD COUNT: six hundred and thirty six
LISTENING TO: a day to remember
NOTES:[/B] yeah this post blows, sorry. im a little rusty : /[/blockquote][/size]