Dark And It Girl

Beatrice Banks had a strange relationship with school, she hated it. Neither was she bad at academics, nor were the teachers particularly cruel and certainly not because she had anything against education, she just simply preferred being anywhere else.

That morning, Beatrice sat in her room, staring at an open notebook. Her pen moved slowly across the page as she began another entry in her diary.

“Dear Diary, It’s another day with my father nowhere to be found. I hope I get into trouble today so I can avoid going to school tomorrow. May the gods of pens fulfill my wish.” She paused, stared at what she had written, and smiled.

Beatrice was sixteen, sarcastic, unpredictable, and far too comfortable with the strange things that made everyone else uncomfortable, she tossed the notebook aside and reached into her schoolbag. Before leaving, she made sure her spare dress was tucked safely inside, just in case.

As she opened her bedroom door and headed toward the stairs, she collided with her mother.

A pie flew out of her mother’s hands.

SPLAT! It landed face-down on the floor, her mother stared at the ruined pie while Beatrice stared at her mother.

Her mother sighed “I baked a pot pie,” she said sadly.

Beatrice looked down at the mess.

“Wow. I didn’t know there was such a thing as ground pie.”

Her mother raised an eyebrow.

“Or maybe,” Beatrice continued, “pie could be grounded.”

Her mother tried not to laugh.

She turned and walked into the kitchen.

When she returned a moment later, she found Beatrice sitting on the floor with a fork, eating the fallen pie.

Her mother stopped.

Beatrice looked up.

“Ground pie is actually really tasty,” she said. “You should totally make it more often.”

Her mother shook her head and walked away.

This was Beatrice’s world.

She always knew what she was doing.

If someone bullied her, she could fight back.

But fighting back wasn’t always her first choice.

Sometimes, she preferred to let them hurt her.

Why?

Because it gave her an excuse to spend the day in the nurse’s office.

Or, as Beatrice liked to call it...

“Nurtel.”

The Nurse’s Hotel.

“Beatrice!” her mother called from downstairs. “Get going! It’s already seven o’clock, and it’s your first day. Don’t be late!”

Beatrice grabbed her bag.

“Coming!”

She ran out of the house.

Well...

She ran out of the house.

She just didn’t go to school.

Instead, she went to the amusement park.

By nine o’clock, Beatrice decided she had enjoyed herself enough.

She finally made her way to school.

Unlike most students who arrived late and tried desperately to avoid being noticed, Beatrice walked through the school gates calmly.

In fact, she almost hoped a teacher would see her.

Then the lunch bell rang.

Perfect.

Beatrice headed straight for the cafeteria.

And there they were.

The It Girls.

Every school had them.

The girls everyone knew.

The girls everyone watched.

The girls who acted as though the entire school belonged to them.

And at the center of them all was Marla.

The leader.

Beatrice looked at them for a moment.

Then she smiled.

She walked toward their table.

As she passed Marla, she “accidentally” knocked her coffee over.

The drink splashed across Marla’s dress.

Beatrice gasped.

“Oops.”

The word came out so innocently that it was almost insulting.

One of the girls immediately stood up.

“Marla, this greenhorn just ruined your dress! You should really teach her a lesson.”

Marla slowly looked down at her stained dress.

Then she looked at Beatrice.

She shoved her.

Beatrice fell to the floor.

Marla grabbed her and dragged her toward a corner of the cafeteria.

Beatrice didn’t fight.

She didn’t scream.

She didn’t even look frightened.

Because this was exactly what she wanted.

Marla signaled to the other girls.

Within seconds, they returned carrying whipped cream, a crate of eggs, and vinegar.

They mixed everything together.

Then they poured it over Beatrice.

The girls laughed.

Beatrice stood up and ran toward the bathroom.

But she wasn’t crying.

Not really.

She was smiling.

Because her plan was working.

Beatrice changed into her spare uniform and headed straight for the principal’s office.

She knocked.

“Come in.”

She opened the door.

Then, almost instantly, she dropped to the floor.

“My stomach hurts!” she cried.

The principal stared at her.

“Beatrice, the school closes at four. It’s only twelve-thirty. Is it really that bad?”

Beatrice rolled across the floor.

“Yes!”

She screamed again.

The principal sighed.

He had clearly run out of patience.

“Fine. You can go home early, Miss Banks.”

Beatrice immediately stopped crying.

“Thank you.”

She walked out.

The moment she was certain nobody could see her, her expression changed.

The tears disappeared.

She smiled.

She went to the bathroom, changed back into the stained uniform, and headed home.

When she walked through the door, her mother greeted her.

“Surprise!”

Then she smiled.

“How was school?”

“Fine,” Beatrice replied.

Her mother looked at her.

“That’s all?”

Beatrice shrugged.

“I even brought cake.”

Her mother stared at her suspiciously.

Then she asked the question she had been holding back.

“Why do you do this?”

Beatrice didn’t answer, Instead, she went upstairs.

A few minutes later, she emerged wearing a dark, almost gothic-looking gown.

Her mother looked at her.

“Where are you going?”

“The cemetery.”

Her mother blinked.

“Hope you meet a ghost.”

Beatrice smiled.

“I hope I do.”

The cemetery was quiet; it was one of the few places where Beatrice felt completely comfortable.

She spread out a blanket and arranged the food she had brought, it was a picnic, not with friends but with the dead.

She had barely finished setting everything up when she noticed movement nearby, it was the It Girls, Marla and her friends had followed her.

Beatrice saw them.

But she didn’t move.

This was her world.

Here, she ruled.

Marla walked toward her.

“Well, look who we have here.”

She glanced at a tombstone.

“Hmm... Freddy Patrick.”

Marla smirked.

“Poor sucker. Maybe he died tired of being seen near you.”

Beatrice’s smile disappeared.

That was enough.

She stood.

Before she even realized what she was doing, she grabbed Marla by the hair.

“This is my world,” Beatrice snapped. “So don’t come here trying to act like you call the shots.”

Marla struggled.

“I only let you do what you did at school because it was part of my plan.”

Beatrice shoved her away.

“And if you want trouble...”

She smiled coldly.

“Be my guest.”

Marla’s friends pulled her away.

As they walked off, Marla turned around.

“I dare you to try ruling the school as much as you rule this hell!”

Then she disappeared with the others.

Beatrice remained alone.

For the first time that day, she wasn’t smiling.

When Beatrice returned home, her mother immediately noticed something was wrong.

“What happened?”

Beatrice looked at her.

Then, suddenly, the words came out.

“Mum... I wish to become a girl.”

Her mother was surprised.

But instead of laughing, she listened.

“I’ll help you,” she said gently. “But becoming who you want to be means making a very big sacrifice.”

Beatrice nodded.

She knew what she wanted.

“Okay,” her mother continued. “We’ll start shopping tomorrow when you get back from school.”

Then she paused.

“And don’t try being sarcastic.”

Beatrice grinned.

“Oh, Emily, what do you take me for?”

Her mother’s face changed instantly.

“Did you just call me Emily?”

Beatrice laughed.

“You’re in trouble now!”

Her mother jumped to her feet.

Beatrice ran.

Within seconds, the two of them were racing around the house.

For the first time that day, Beatrice was genuinely happy.

The next morning, Beatrice arrived at school wearing her usual dark dress.

Marla spotted her immediately.

Before Beatrice could react, Marla grabbed her and slammed her against a locker.

Once.

Twice.

Again.

Beatrice remained strangely calm.

“Still making revenge for your hair?” she asked. “How cheap.”

Marla’s anger exploded.

She slapped Beatrice across the face.

That was the moment Beatrice stopped playing.

She grabbed Marla by the hair and pushed her to the ground.

Then she dragged her through the hallway by her hair.

Students stopped and stared.

Nobody dared interfere.

By the time Beatrice reached the classroom, she let go.

Everyone stared at her in fear.

Beatrice simply adjusted her hair, walked to her seat, and sat down.

As if nothing had happened.

Marla and her friends soon followed.

Marla’s dress was stained.

Her hair was a complete mess.

The teacher took one look at her.

“Marla! What happened to you?”

Marla opened her mouth.

Nothing came out.

The teacher continued scolding her before finally ordering her to leave the classroom.

Beatrice smiled.

She had won.

At least for now.

Later, Beatrice entered the cafeteria.

Marla’s friends approached her, clearly looking for revenge.

Beatrice didn’t even stop walking.

She simply passed them.

Then Lola, Marla’s second-in-command, stepped forward.

“Not so fast.”

Beatrice looked at her.

Before Lola could do anything, Beatrice grabbed a plate of spaghetti and dumped it on her.

Silence.

Lola stood frozen.

The other girls immediately backed away.

Beatrice calmly walked past them.

Lola wiped spaghetti from her face.

Her eyes burned with anger.

“We’ll make you pay.”

Beatrice stopped.

She slowly turned around.

And smiled.

The war had only just begun.