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personification of adhd
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Hectic. What a word. It had so many connotations that described her well, but it seemed like just the opposite wanted to happen here. The boy had gone quiet, for almost a solid minute. During that time, she'd edged her hands down, and stopped making herself look like a hostage in a situation that clearly wasn't so.

And then, he spoke again.

She smiled widely, for one of the first times during her capture. She'd gotten his trust, she'd made a single ally. It was worth that risk, that one small attempt.

But then again, things were never going to work out that simply for Aston Bennett, were they?

Out of nowhere, a girl appeared. Aston whipped her head around to see her, and she slipped her hand into her bag on instinct. Multi-coloured hair, something Aston had seen in abundance at Bayview, but more importantly, a crowbar. A weapon. Something that could and probably would kill.

She didn't look the part of a killer, but there was really no way to tell. According to the announcements, people she'd known, people she'd socialised with, had turned killer. There was nothing in her face to suggest that this was the case, but there was no way to be sure. Not a single way.

Well, if she asked, that could work, she supposed.

"Hey, yeah, it's okay. Well, it was okay until you spooked this guy. Think he's had a heart attack or something, and you popping in outta nowhere probably didn't help," Aston snapped. What was everyone thinking if they thought they could just appear out of nowhere and ask random questions like that? Didn't they know how dangerous it was? She scoffed at the idea of everyone in her class being either that naive or stupid, though it really wouldn't have surprised her, honestly, but the amount of collar-suicides and overly stupid deaths seemed to damper that scoff right back down for the time being. At least for now.

Running her free hand up the side of her face, she scratched her cheek.

"Look, I dunno who you are really, but I'm Aston. Guy in there, I dunno, but you might wanna approach this a bit more calmly or something, since he sounds really on edge. Might have a gun, I think."

And then boom, like fireworks in the night, another girl appeared out of nowhere. Almost literally, really, she didn't even spot her come onto the scene, she was so busy trying to stop this guy from freaking out and to stop the girl from becoming either a hinderance or a potential foe. In her own little special way, anyhow.

Turning around to face her, she recognised her as that short goth chick who hung around with some punk chick and that Australian giant. Honestly, such odd friendship combinations were the reason she was almost totally lost on finding one herself; where did one draw the line?

"Oh. Hello." Aston mumbled. She wasn't really sure how to respond to such an open question: "Hello?". It provided so many opportunities for different lines of discussion that it wasn't really worth thinking about.

"You holding up okay?" Aston continued, trying her best to keep things less than critical. Nothing else should give this guy more than a double coronary if she had anything to say in the matter.

Come to think of it, who was that guy anyway? Would he come out if he thought these girls (plus her) were friendly?

Well, there was time to wait and see.

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I can't sing but I wrote you a song

Wrong notes but the melody's so clear

When I'm lost, I'm still close to gold

cause I found my treasure in you
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Life's a Beach · The Beach: East