When bad stuff happen to bad people.

I won't call myself bad.
I will call myself a good planner.
Or better yet, misunderstood hero (my pathtic excuse for every evil innocence being).
Best so far, fiendishly living entity.

Well, I got my own awesome combination of super-villian looks.
I can (And occasionally do) slightly tear apart my lips and the skin around the edges (e.g. The Joker -or shortly, The-, Jeff the Killer), which hurts as fuck, but it happens less and less because I'm better at controling my voice, I can pretty much control the volume better, a built in megaphone.
My hair, obviously evil, just exprience it, but if you really want to scare people, open it, when it's dark and scare them from behind, bonus points if it's on flat mode and wearing an oversized white tee, the grudge style.
My mouth, again, bleeds quite a lot every two months (the averge of time between two teeth falling), and the lip-skin tears apart, it happens only when it dries of the blood of the previous cut, and then I lick them to make it hurt less, which dries them even more, and a new fleshy pink piece covered with bits of blood is on my lips.
My hands, even I hate them, I'm ridiculously strong, with great powers comes great responsibility, and nobody should ever leave me with things that require responsiblity.


But why bad things?
And bad people?
That beginning doesn't relate -much- to what I'm about to tell you.

I woke up, great as everyday, ready to play my epic Sims 3 every fucking expansion, stuff, and few months of the store.
I went to school, Geography, passed through it breezly.
Literture, passed through it, even though I suffered through thoughts, depressing ones mostly, I truly believe that every student should be prescribed with anti-depressants, if not for everyday use then at least overdose them to be recognized mentally unstable.

Then, English.
We had a test.
People said that it will be frightening.
Huge.
Those people lied.
It was 3 pages.
2 papers.
one paper was the story.
It was about the Western National Park, we've been told that it's good to bring a dictionary along.
People got stuck on emergency (thank you very much Paramore), Rangers, during (my friend asked me what dur means, I said to her that there isn't such a word, she said that it was on the test, after a while another friend came, she said the same thing as the first friend, then the last friend came, and she corrected them, she said during, people can amaze me), I remember few more words that people got stuck on.
It was easy as fuck, I finished it under ten minutes.
I had thirty five minutes of doing whatever I wanted.
So, since that I've