A Pitiful type of Perfect

Lovina Chiara Vargas was going to find her make-up free, non belimic, absolute, not cut ridden way to perfection. Even if a few things show up in the way.

hup. another fan fiction. I probably shouldn't. but who hates Lovina?

that's right

the antagonist of this story

WARNING: This story will have cutting in it. And swearing, and maybe bulimia. And attempts of suicide. Plus drugs, and drinking galore. If you're offended, I'm sorry. If you do one of those things, please be strong and will yourself out of it. I believe in you. I'm not trying to mock anyone's misery with writing this. I know this happens and I want to inform people.

Chapter 1: Climb in the Boat of Nothing, False Highs not Accepted.

This is my last time she said

As she faded away

It's hard to imagine

But one day you'll end up like me

Then she said

If you want to get out alive

Whoa-oh, run for your life

If you want to get out alive

Whoa-oh, run for your life

Three Days Grace- Get Out Alive

Lovina was swimming in a river of nothing

she was lying down, completely stoned to the death. She hadn't done it this bad since she was a stupid, silly freshman. A freshman who thought she was so cool, she could smoke and drink on their property and hopefully, no one would notice. Stupid freshman. Her damned decisions were always the most fan-fucking-tastically ruined plans on the face of the Earth. Of course teachers would smell the weed on her, he alcohol and see her drunken stupor as she waltzed flaw-fully around the school.


That was the the best adverb that Lovina could use.

TO describe herself.

The ceiling was pulsating at such a rate she could have sworn she was on some shitty Disneyworld ride, going up, and down. Up, and down, up and down.

She'd kicked Lars out the second she had lost the last of her sanity. She didn't want to blame him when she fucked up the house and her room and everything. Just, everything. Nonno would yell at her and she would yell back and Felicia would calm him down, and perhaps make dinner. And bring said dinner to her room, and dial Antonio for her and leave the phone on speaker so Antonio could soothe Lovina while she came down from her false high, false happiness. SHe'd lay in her bed that smelt like all the drugs she'd done, with her picture album that sat under her bed right next to her diary. Her picture album of smiles that were real at a time, so real that she could just touch a picture and be absorbed in the memory, be sucked into happier times with a happy Lovina, a smiley Lovina, a found Lovina because now there was nothing but a sad Lovina, a frowny Lovina and a lost Lovina. Her bed that smelt like all the bad that'd happened, that knew that under all her makeup and skin and hair and words, she was a young virgin girl who was so fucking scared. She was scared and lonely and six feet under in her flawfully messed up world.

And she couldn't stop it.

So when Lovina died, she'd finally be swimming in a real river of nothing.

And not passed out in the boat that loitered near the deep side.

augh first chapter done someone shoot me now please? I love writing but depressing stuff really gets to me. Lovina, your life is only going to get worse from here on.

Please PM me if you have ideas, and don't forget to review~

*1m4g1n3 dr4g0ns