Mirabilis

“I wish I was normal” was something Schwere told herself almost everyday at school. As she walked the halls boys and girls of similar age to her made fun of her and bullied her. Schwere was different by a couple standards. For one she didn't speak a whole lot and tended to keep to herself. To make matters worse she had a scar on one side of her face that went from her forehead down to her jawline then went all the way back to her ear. The scar was inflicted by her father, someone she'd never want to see again for as long as she lived. To top it off though she was an immigrant. She was born in Germany and learned the language to the point of being fluent, however when it came to English she had a thick accent that permeated every word that came out of her mouth. To really solidify her being different she had a name like “Schwere”. Teachers and students mispronounced all the time, saying it as is. She couldn't blame them, but that doesn't mean it didn't tick her off any less. Often saying “Shewere” or “Chwhere”. Despite that she'd often correct them saying it was pronounced “Shvere”.

She was just an example of a bully victim. Different physical features that made her stand out, strange accent, shy and closed off, strange name, even guys named Abdul made fun of her name. Then there was the bleach white hair she sported. Not because she liked it, but because it was in her genetics. She hated school more than anything.

As she was walking to class she kept her head down and kept that same sad expression plastered on her face. She wore a black turtle neck with black pants and black combat boots. The color black was how she felt, she wanted to disappear and become invisible. However wearing the same color from head to toe typically made you stand out more than anything.

That's when Claire walked slightly in front of her before sticking her foot out and tripping Schwere. She fell forward, dropping everything she was holding, books, journals, a binder and some of the papers inside of it scattered across the floor. She quickly tried to pick up her things, but froze slightly when Claire crouched down next to her, her friends surrounding her.

“Oh what happened Terminator? Did you fall and drop your stuff.” She said snidely, not helping Schwere.

“Maybe you should learn to walk properly.” One of Claire's friends said mockingly.

Schwere wanted to fight them, but knew she'd have it twisted on her somehow. In that aspect she kind of wished she was a boy. Boys seemed to fight and hit each other and as long as neither of them died they'd get a slap on the wrist and be told “Boys will be boys”. Schwere would probably be framed as a thug though by this manipulative witch.

“Got nothing to say, Miss Terminator?” Claire tried to hear the German girl say something so she could mock her accent.

She shook her head and was almost done picking her stuff up, hoping they'd just go away. But they never did.

Claire stood up and kicked one of Schwere's books. It skid across the floor and she could only watch as it flew further away.

Schwere looked up at the taller girl with an expression that asked “why me?” She knew why. She stood up into a crouch with all her stuff in hand and tried to pick up the last book, but Claire just kicked it again. Schwere wanted to scream and yell and cry and tell them to get bent, but she knew throwing a tantrum like that would just make her seem like an even bigger fool. “Could I bleaze get mein pook pack.” She said in a thick accent, what the girls were looking for. She was on the verge of tears.

Claire snickered before taking this chance to mock her “Pook? I'm not sure what that is, but I do have this JOURNAL here.” She picked up the journal and flipped through it doodles, notes, and entries were made throughout it. Some are more embarrassing than others. “October 8th: Claire and her cronies are such bitches. I wish they'd all just forget about me and leave me alone. Today they threw the backpack in the trashcan and it still smells like tuna and ketchup no matter how many times I wash it.” She stopped reading the entry, finding what she said aloud satisfying enough. “Bitch isn't a very nice word Terminator. I think I'll be confiscating this for a while” She said with a smirk that told Schwere there was nothing she could do about it.

Schwere tried to snatch it from her but Claire just moved out of the way and held it closer to her. Schwere looked at the journal and felt a lump forming in her throat as she tried to not cry in front of them. She ended up being blinded by her anger and frustration with them. She stepped on Claire's foot and snatched it back, preventing the girl from moving away. Once she had it again she stepped off her foot and began running down the hall to her class.

Claire let out a yelp of pain from Schwere's boot stomping on her toes. “Oww you fucking bitch!” She saw Schwere already running away. She was already planning something for Schwere after school today.

Schwere sat down in her class still trying to prevent herself from crying. It felt like a wave that'd come and go, but eventually that wave came crashing at her. She dropped her head down to her desk and began silently whimpering to herself. She didn't want any of this, she didn't want to cry, she didn't want to be at this damned school, and she certainly didn't want to be so different that she was the subject of the girls' bullying.

As the bell rang she calmed down somewhat. Just enough to stop herself from crying, but she couldn't focus on whatever the teacher was talking about. She was too wrapped up in the hell that was her life with Claire. She asked her mom if she could do school online or transfer to a private school. However, each of these requests got rejected. Online school or homeschooling of any kind would isolate Schwere more than she already was likely making her more inept at socializing, and private school wasn't in her mother's budget. They didn't make very much money already, so things were tight as is. Private school would likely make them homeless.

She couldn't hate her mother's reason. She'd just have to work with what she was given by life. She wished her mother could speak English a bit better than Schwere had, but there was no helping it. She'd become stuck in her ways due to her advanced age.

She sat at her desk for a bit trying to listen to the teacher drone one about Alice and Wonderland however she was just having too much trouble paying attention. It was a struggle to keep her eyes open, crying must have made her tired. Often feeling like an explosion of feelings for the girl, it helped, but only a little. In the long term she'd have to find a way to deal with her problems in a more direct way. However before she knew it Schwere was out.