joyousmenma93 (joyousmenma93) wrote,
joyousmenma93
joyousmenma93

  • Mood:
  • Music:

Random Short Story: Listening

For anyone who's interested, I wrote a little short story for my fiction writing class.






Listening
By Julia W

Reagan Blair. I hated that girl.
I only had to put up with her during freshman and sophomore year, but God, I hated her with the fury of a thousand suns. I hated her the minute I saw that she and I shared the same English, math, and science classes. Just being around that little goth clothes wearing addle brained freak made me want to deck her so everybody could laugh at her worthless existence.
I actually had only three reasons for hating her. They're pretty simple. Number one: her fashion sense made me want to give her a complete head to toe makeover. Always hoodies, jeans, sneakers, and plain looking shirts. Not only that, if she wasn't wearing anything plain, she had hoodies and shirts with cartoon characters on it from shows only kids are supposed to watch, like Pokemon or Sailor Moon or Powerpuff Girls. She even decorates her school bag with cartoon character themed buttons. Nothing even remotely pretty, hot, and sexy, like me and my gal pals. No tank tops, no miniskirts, no sexy one-pieces, no high heels, nothing that'll increase her already negative infinity chances of winning a fashion show or a popularity contest. And get this! No make up! No piercings! Not one hole in her body, not even on her ears! No eyeliner, no lipstick, no skin cream, not one little swatch of it! Just looking at her round, pale, ugly, make-up-less little face made me want to give her plastic surgery, not that it'd do her any good anyway. She dresses like a complete geek.
I always get in trouble for mentioning number two out loud, but I honestly don't give a rat's hat. It's a free country, isn't it? I shouldn't be denied the right to free speech! Anyway, back on topic. Number two: she's weird. Weirder than weird. Weirder than even the weirdest kind of weird. The "oh my God why is she here why is she doing this weird stuff when she's a teenager and she shouldn't exist!" kind of weird. Sometimes in class, she rocks back and forth like a rocking chair. Most of the time, though, she cries at the drop of a hat, even during class. She talks about nothing but comic books and cartoons, covers her ears for no reason, and is basically a big baby. What high school girl behaves the way she does? Don't kindergarteners act like that? Even worse, whenever she flips out for no reason, everything had to stop and be all about her. She's crying? Feel free to go to Mrs. Holmes' office! We call her out on it and put her in her place? Stop picking on her, Brittney Wilkins! That's not how high schoolers treat each other! Gag me. God, I swear, that chick always has to have everyone spoon feed her with her pity so she can get what she wants and act like she's all that. Heck, one time the principal let her leave the classroom while we had to get yelled at and lectured about on some Autism thing and how we should treat each other the way we want to be treated! It was so dumb! I had to wonder if she acted out on purpose: to use her disability to get what she wanted and wrap everyone around her finger.
Number three's a bit more personal, and you need to see it to believe it or you'll get the wrong idea. I remember walking home from school one day to find my stupid mom with yet another one of her gajillion boyfriends engaging in a very sloppy, spit filled, tongue-flinging make out on the couch with some stupid porno playing on the TV. No, they weren't naked, but all Mom had on was a skanky little white tank top and really short dark blue bicycle shorts, and as usual, she forgot to wash her eternally scraggly blonde hair. As usual, there's empty wine bottles scattered all over the rug, and a plate of leftover Chinese food from last week. As soon as I slammed the door, the loud thwack made them turn their bright, confusion filled eyes onto me. Mom looked happy to see me while Boyfriend Number God Knows What looked at me like I ruined his sex life.
"Hi Brittney!" Mom exclaimed in that sickeningly sweet, pretend motherly voice she used whenever she wanted to introduce me to her bazillion boyfriends. God, I hated it when she talked to me in that voice, because I always knew it was fake. "I'd like to introduce you to--"
"Why didn't you come to my soccer game?! Or the school fashion show?! I told you I wanted you to come!" I finally got the nerve to call her out on this since I'd been meaning to for a long while, but she was never home.
"Ooh, your daughter's a real hottie, babe," Her greasy, sleazy, spiky haired, shirtless boyfriend piped in, eyeing me like I was a stripper he wanted to see. God, I hate it when every single one of her sleazy boyfriends looked at me like they wanted to make out with me. I threw an old sock at him in disgust and he yelped as it slumped on his face like all the clothes I don't wear anymore.
"Okay, ew! Get out, you sleazebag!" I yelled like a little girl. Mom's eyes grew wide with surprise. Irritably, Mr. Boyfriend Number God Knows What got up and left the house without a word. Good riddance. After that, my mom stood up, stomped over to me, and slapped me across the face.
"Why do you always do this to me?!" She screamed, her eyes bloodshot and her voice going up an octave. "Why do you always ruin my fun?! I take care of you and spend thousands of dollars on that flashy trash you never wear and this is how you repay me?!"
"Why am I the bad one?! All you ever do is get banged by a bunch of disgusting gross men and do crack and never give a rat's hat about me! All my friends have parents who are decent and love them and care about them! Why can't you shape up and be a real parent for once?! It's bad enough you ruin my life!" I snapped, not wanting to take her garbage.
"You're the one ruining my life for stopping me from having fun!" She whined petulantly, like a little kid.
"You know what?! Just forget it! I'm sick of you never caring about me or listening to me! You can get an STD for all I care! I'm through with you!" I was fed up with her and her whining and her squalid lifestyle. I couldn't take it anymore. How could I? I needed to take a walk, so I slammed the door shut and wandered around. I didn't have any place I wanted to go. I wanted to go to Paula's house or Kelly's house, but Paula's dad has been real strict lately, and last I checked, Kelly had to visit some cousins in Wyoming. Why'd they have to go when I needed them the most?
Then I saw it. I saw Reagan's house. One of their windows was really big, so I was able to see what was going on. I saw her showing her parents a paper, probably a math test she aced recently, with a face literally glowing with joy. Her parents, too. Her porky dad hugged her like she won the lottery. Just seeing this nauseous display made me want to puke. Why does that weirdo have it better than me, I asked myself. Why does she have a loving family and smarts and everything she wants and not me? She's not popular or pretty or competent or even remotely capable of living! She doesn't deserve it! I'm popular, pretty, have lots of friends, a boy I like, and an actual social life. Why can't she be my mom's daughter? Why do I have to be miserable and put up with garbage and she doesn't? Someone needed to put that idiot in her place.
That was exactly what I planned to do.
Ever since that day, I attacked her at every possible opportunity.
"That's quite the interesting get-up you got there, girl. Did you pick your clothes out in the dark? Or from a trash can? Seriously, you'd be way more popular if you had on some pretty dresses."
"Hey, look! The goth punk weirdo's contaminating our breathing air again!"
"Ohh what? You failed another test? You gonna cry now? Cry, you big baby! Cry! Wah wah wah!"
"Ew? What's that smell? Do you live in a sewer or something? Go take a bath! We don't need awful smelling rats in our esteemed school!"
"You're way better off with your loser circle. Just face it. You'll never be popular or worth anything if you keep acting the way you do."
I didn't care if I got in trouble or got yelled at by the teachers or sent to the principal's office. Someone needed to show that girl who's boss. She didn't deserve to dirty the school's breathing air with her weirdo presence. And it felt great to finally be able to feel superior and not suck up to someone.
I remember one time when we shared a Spanish class together but she transferred out because of the local prankster and loud mouth, Samuel King. I remember walking up to her lunch table, where she and her geeky friends hung out at.
"Hey, Reagan."
She looked confused when she saw me. "Yeah."
"See that kid over there?" I pointed to Samuel, who sat a few tables away.
"Yeah. I hate his guts. Why?"
"He says he wants to go out with you!"
Man, you should have seen her reaction! She totally flipped out, hid under the table, and rocked back and forth like nobody's ever seen! I found myself laughing as I walked back to my table, and me and my friends decided to shake things up a bit by rocking back and forth like she did.
"Ooooh! I'm sooo scared! Somebody saaave meeee!" I squealed in a mock Reagan voice, unable to hold in my laughter.
Unfortunately for me, this guy came up and yelled at us like we were the bad ones, shouting stuff like, "You're the worst, y'know that?! What did she ever do to you that was so bad?!" He even tried to punch me, but I avoided him in the nick of time. A few days after that, when I was on the bus to come home, this strange girl about a few years older than me stomped up to me like she was a giant. Her hair is much longer and brighter in shade, with ocean blue eyes, and she actually looked pretty and popular. I thought she'd be the perfect friend to make, only I saw that her eyes were literally blazing with rancor.
"Which one of you ugly skanks is Brittney Wilkins?!" She yelled.
You should have seen how offended I was. I stood up to confront her. "Hey! Who are you calling a skank?! You're the skank around here!"
All of a sudden, she slapped me across the face, making everyone on the bus gasp with horror. Even I couldn't help but be surprised. She hit me harder than my mom did. I actually felt scared! I didn't fall or anything, but God did it hurt like Hades!
"If you ever pick on my little sister again, you're gonna wake up breathing through a tube! How would you like it if I picked on your little sister?! You wouldn't like that, now would you?! Stay away from Reagan, or you're gonna regret it big time!" The girl yelled mercilessly, her eyes so bloodshot they looked like they were going to pop right out of her face and roll on the floor.
I chuckled. "Reagan's your sister? Wow. It must suck to have a stupid weirdo sister like you have. Acting like a big baby when she's supposed to know better, dressing like a geek and having everyone spoon feed her with pity so she can get what she wants...you must be so embarrassed to have a brat like that for a sister!"
Then we started slamming each other on the bus seats and scratching each other like two cats in an epic cat fight. She kept yelling stuff I didn't quite comprehend, as I was too busy trying to make her get the heck off of me. She said something about Reagan being autistic and that it's the way she is and can't help it and that she's not a manipulator like I think. She's deluded and nutso, I thought. The bus driver had to break us up. It didn't get too ugly, but I'd soon learn that she'd be right. I would regret it.
But even then, it still didn't stop me from picking on Reagan every chance I got. I spread rumors about her, spray painted her locker (which I found out that she never uses so it didn't work), I even got the whole class to throw food at her and make fun of her stupidly huge watermelon boobs out loud! God, it felt great to see that chick cry like the baby she is!
However, focusing all of my attention on making her miserable wound up backfiring on me at some points in the weeks that followed. Because I'd rather make her miserable and hang out with my friends than use my time to study, I got big red zeroes and F's on every single test and work sheet I ever got. Zero, zero, zero, and look, another zero, along with lots of written comments from teachers I never bothered to read. My history teacher sent me to the principal's office after I failed a really big test.
"You can't keep doing this, Brittney. Get your act together or you'll have to repeat the grade. You don't want that happening, do you? And I don't want to hear more complaints about you bullying that nice girl Reagan!" The principal told me sternly, slamming his hand on his desk and looking at me like I'm some bad kid.
My friends couldn't hang out with me anymore because their parents found out about what we did and told them not to. Paula even got yanked out of her school by her rabid disciplinarian dad because of it! My entire soccer team kicked me out.
"We can't have you on the team anymore. Your behavior is going to ruin everything. How do we know you're not gonna pick on your teammates and sabotage our chances to win?" The teacher told me venomously, like she thought I was a bad kid too.
But even worse, when I finally got the nerve to talk to the boy I like, Marcus DuFresne, and tell him how I feel, my heart got broken, stomped on, ripped to pieces, and left to wither in the wind. Wanna know what he said?
"Absolutely not. I'd rather hang myself than be seen with a stupid, shallow, superficial, selfish, self-absorbed, heartless little beast like you. I hate girls who pick on other kids so they can make themselves feel good. Do you really want to be an idiot so badly? Get a life. I hate you. Get out of my sight, you heartless wench!"
He didn't even soften his blows. I couldn't believe it. I fell to my knees and found myself crying into my hands. I felt like everything ended all around me. Everything good I thought I had in my life suddenly got ripped from me like somebody took candy from a baby. I didn't think I'd go on until Reagan appeared in my head, with the same stone faced look she keeps plastered all over that disgustingly round little face of hers, just going through every day without a care in the world.
Yes, I thought. It's her fault my life is falling apart! With resolve blazing in my heart, my desire to break her consumed me like a tsunami, fueling me with more rage than I ever thought I had in me.
One time, in lunch, I intentionally spilled my tray of rice, mandarin oranges, mashed potatoes, and spinach all over her, and acted like she walked right into me. "Hey! Watch where you're going, skank! What are you, blind?!" I screamed. But instead of looking at her like she was the bad one, everybody looked at me like I was the bad one!
"You spilled it on her on purpose! I saw you!" One kid yelled, pointing at me.
Another time, I came across her in the hallway with Kelly by my side and stabbed her in the arm with a fully sharpened pencil. You should have seen how she squealed like a dying guinea pig!
"Brittney! Are you nuts?!" Kelly yelped, her brown eyes with shock. I really didn't see why she had to be so surprised.
"Hey, freak! Care to entertain me?" I commanded like I was a queen and she my slave. She ignored me while rubbing her arm and tried to walk away but I stopped her in the nick of time. "I'm talking to you, idiot!"
"Leave me alone!" Reagan yelled with a fiery gleam in her emerald hued eyes, looking like some ferocious animal. Maybe a rabbit or a guinea pig, like she's supposed to be.
"Come on, Brittney. Let's stop. Please. We'll get in trouble," Kelly pleaded, but I paid her no heed.
"Why don't you go kill yourself, you freak? Do you really think you're so special with that trashy goth get-up and acting like a baby? Get over yourself! Don't think that ruining my life will make you popular or get you any friends or make you worth something!" I told her.
"Aren't you the one ruining your own life? And for the record, I actually have friends who like me and appreciate me for who I am and aren't fake, and I'm not a goth," Reagan told me like it was the most normal thing in the world. Her words shot through my heart, leaving an arrow shaped hole in them. Can you believe it? This lumpy little freak actually managed to throw in the last word!
"What's going on out here?" That haggard old lady social worker, Mrs. Holmes, came out of the guidance office and watched as Reagan walked away. She then dragged me and Kelly into the office and we wound up getting lectured by the guidance counselor. What a complete, colossal waste of my golden, valuable time. But then again, it did give me time to come up with the best plan ever!
We wound up getting detention, but it didn't hamper my plans any. After our first detention session, we snuck into Kelly's house and I started messing around with her computer, Photoshopping a nude photo of myself and putting Reagan's head on it! I found a picture of her in my yearbook, so I felt like using it for my plan.
"What?! Brit, you've officially gone off the deep end!" Kelly exclaimed when I told her what I planned to do. "You can't do this! You'll get in trouble!"
"No I won't! Quit whining, girl! That freaky idiot deserves it for ruining my life! I'm gonna show her what it's like to finally be miserable and not have anybody to spoon feed her any pity!" I snapped, still working on the Photoshop. I had just managed to splice Reagan's stone faced little head on it until Kelly suddenly growled behind me, kind of like me when I told off my good for nothing mom.
"God, you're unreasonable! Ever since that incident at lunch all you ever talk about now is Reagan, Reagan, Reagan and all this talk of ruining her life! Don't you realize you're gonna regret it someday? You can't keep doing this, Brit! You'll ruin your life!"
"I'm not the one ruining my life! She is!" I snapped back, surprised that my only remaining gal pal is going to the dark side.
"Quit making this all about you! Why can't you listen for once?! If anyone's ruining your life, it's you!"
"Me?! No way!" I stood up from her chair and slammed her keyboard. I felt something press under my fingers and heard a click noise, but my erupting anger made me completely oblivious to it."Why are you siding with that freak?! All she does is whine and cry and act like a baby and make everybody spoon feed her when she should do stuff herself!"
"You're the one doing all of that! You know what? Forget it! You're not the Brittney I know and love!"
"Well, you're not the Kelly I know and love either! Now get out!" I yelled and pointed to the door.
"You get out! This is my house!" Kelly snapped. She had a good point.
"Fine! We're through! But let me finish this first!" I snapped as I sat back on the chair, saved the altered picture, downloaded it onto my phone, and left. Then, I opened my phone, got the picture out, and hit the send button. It was the perfect plan!
Or so I thought.
The next day, at school, everybody looked at me like I was Godzilla. Boys kept laughing, hooting, calling me slutty names, and making weird sexual gestures that made me look away in disgust, just like Mom's many gajillion boyfriends. At first, I thought they were trying to impress me until this one clique of girls glance at me like I was the most disgusting thing ever. One of them said right out loud for all to hear, "Wow, Wilkins. Who knew you'd sunk so low."
"What?" I asked, confused, not sure of what they were talking about.
"You broke the number one rule of sexting. Don't ever show your head," The girl said, looking at her cell phone.
"WHAT?!" I shouted as I literally yanked the phone out of her hands faster than a cheetah chomping on a deer. Right as I stared at the picture on the phone, a thunderbolt struck my brain and fried it.
I thought I sent the altered version with Reagan's head on my nude body, but instead, I actually sent the unaltered version, with my head still on there, completely intact! "No! No no no no! This can't be! This cannot be true! What happened to the altered version?! I know I Photoshopped it! I know I did!" I wailed, unable to quite comprehend why this happened. But then I remembered last night and my fight with Kelly. I slammed my hand on Kelly's keyboard. Did I maybe press a button that undid the alteration?
"Hey Wilkins! You tryin' to be a porn star?" One boy hooted as he laughed maniacally with his guy friends.
"Oh, shut up, you brutes!" I snapped back, but they kept on laughing and hooting and making sexual looks and gestures at me like they didn't even hear a word I said, and it's likely they wouldn't want to stop anytime soon.
Getting through the school day was a nightmare. All because I accidentally sent the unaltered picture. How could I not have seen it? Did I get too hasty and not notice it in time? Well, regardless, Kelly was right. I wound up ruining my own life. Teachers yelled at me, guys kept on trying to get into my skirt, girls gave me dirty looks all around, and my reputation became nonexistent. I didn't want to believe it. I really didn't. This was supposed to happen to that freak girl Reagan, not me! I don't deserve to have this happen to me, I told myself! Soon, I found myself getting dragged to the principal's office.
"I've been lenient before, but I will not tolerate this lewd behavior! As of now, you are suspended for three weeks, and since you're failing all of your classes, I have no choice but to force you to repeat the sophomore year," The principal exclaimed vehemently, slamming his fist on his desk, his glasses gleaming.
"You can't do that! That's not fair!" I shouted.
"You should have thought of that before you sent that picture to the entire school!" He snapped back with gusto, not interested in showing me any pity and sympathy, which I actually wanted this time around!
With that, I left the principal's office. I tried to go back to my class, but then I saw Reagan passing right by me, looking happier than ever, like she didn't have a single care in the world. Her face was so radiant with joy, shining like a summer sun. It made me want to puke. How can she be happy? Is she happy I'm the official laughingstock of the school? That was what I convinced myself to be the truth, even though in my proud little heart I knew it wasn't. All of a sudden, I found myself drowning further into a tsunami of anger, growling as I was slamming her into the wall.
"Stop screwing around, you freak!" I screamed as I began raining a flurry of slaps and punches and kicks on her, not bothering to stop. She struggled to break free, but I wouldn't let her. "I hope you're proud of yourself, being so happy with the fact that I'm now the new laughingstock of the school!"
"What are you talking about?" She asked, looking like she was unable to comprehend what the heck just happened to her.
"Don't lie to me, you skank! You're happy that everybody hates me! That's what you've always wanted, isn't it?!" I shouted back.
"Get off me!" Reagan screamed as she managed to finally push me off.
"If you've got something to say to me, then just say it, you stupid coward!" I shouted, unable to repress the volcano in my heart anymore. It was dying to erupt, so I figure I might as well unscrew the cap and let all the lava burst out, just like it wanted to. "I hate you!! I hate how you always ruin everything, play up how weak you are, and have everybody do everything for you!! Why can't you just grow the heck up and do everything yourself?! Quit acting like a little baby just so you can manipulate everyone and make them spoon feed you their pity!!" It was high time someone called her out on her garbage. Why couldn't it be me? Someone had to.
"Wait wait wait wait, WHAT?! You think I'm manipulating people?!" Reagan shouted, her eyes wide like saucers, like she really did not know what I was talking about. But I didn't believe her.
"I know what you do! You cry in class, make weird noises, and rock back and forth like a baby, just so you can have everybody go, 'Awww, poor widdle broken Reagan can't do everything by herself! It's such a pity! Let's spoon feed her so she can feel good about herself while everyone else has to work like slaves to get what they want!' I'm sick of your poor little me victim act!"
Before I knew it, I felt a very strong sting to my face. It wasn't very forceful, but it left a massive sting on my face, like a bunch of wasps shoved their stingers into me. Soon, Reagan, her emerald eyes blazing like flames in a fireplace and her little fists balled up like they wanted to punch something, got back on her feet like she wanted to have a crack at me. She's looking at me like she wants me to say something. But what can I say? Even if I did want to say something, she wouldn't let me, as she already exploded into a harangue.
"I am NOT putting on an act!! What is it with you cliché, blonde, blue eyed, overly snotty and shallow, popular queen bees acting like we losers deliberately act the way we do so we can get an easy ticket to popularity?! And no, I am NOT a manipulator or putting on an act like you seem to believe!! Look, for your information, I'm autistic, and that means my brain came out differently than normal! I'm sorry I cry in class a lot because I can't solve some problems right! I'm sorry I cover my ears a lot because loud noise like yelling or screaming or rap music bothers me! I'm sorry I don't act like everyone else! But it's just a part of who I am, not an act to make people feel sorry for me! Heck, I don't want people doing everything for me or feeling sorry for me! Don't you think I KNOW for a fact that I'm broken and not normal?! I don't need idiots like you reminding me of that, and I don't use my disability as a one way ticket to get what I want! I'm not that stupid!"
"Oh cut the garbage!"
"No! YOU cut the garbage!" I was always the one getting the last word. Now she's gotten her chance, and I was helpless to do anything about it. "I've always known you've hated me, and I avoided you so I wouldn't get on your bad side and mind my own business! That's all! I was never out to hurt you! I'm not like that! And no, I'm not happy with everyone laughing at you and picking on you, but you brought that all on yourself just for sending that picture out! People tried to stop you, but did you listen? Noooo! Quit blaming stuff you do on other people! I don't like people like you! You always pick on other people so you can use them as outlets for your own anger and blame them for stuff you do because you're too full of pride to admit it!"
The cat was out of the bag. Reagan undid the knot and the cat ran out, and now everyone would know. How did she do it? How did she even figure all of it out? I couldn't believe it. I just couldn't. She read me like a map and I was helpless to go back and rectify things to my advantage. But even as she outed me and everything I've done, I couldn't accept it.
"You slut!!" I yelled as I yanked her by the shirt and tried to land a punch on her. Without warning, I felt something hard press me on my abdomen so hard it rendered me unable to breathe. I stumbled and slumped against the wall while Reagan ran away, leaving me behind. Once I found myself able to breathe again, some more lava wanted to pour out of my half empty volcano. "You coward!! You always run away when things get too tough! You always want everyone to feel sorry for you when they should be feeling sorry for me!!"
Everything after that was a blur. Before I knew it, I got a notice from the school saying that I can no longer attend Francine Gordon High School. I'm being transferred to a remedial school specializing in rectifying potentially dangerous behavior in juveniles. It was when I read that notice that I couldn't deny it any longer. Kelly and Reagan were both right. I really did ruin my life, all because I was so desperate to ruin Reagan's life just so I could make myself feel good. I was tired of feeling insecure and not worth it, and I was jealous of that girl for having it better than me. But then again...maybe I deserved what I got. Maybe I should have listened, that way I wouldn't have been expelled in the first place. It sucks to know you let your desires control you and ruin every chance you have of living a good life, especially when you bring it all on yourself. I wonder what will happen to me now?
Tags: fiction, listening, short, story
Subscribe

  • Post a new comment

    Error

    Anonymous comments are disabled in this journal

    default userpic

    Your reply will be screened

    Your IP address will be recorded 

  • 0 comments