Tell me a lie.
Tell me that the pain would disappear and sometimes along the blurry lines I would feel―― happiness and love are all I really need. Just tell me a lie, tell me I’m alive. Tell me I’m here and not ready to die.
What do I expect the principle to do when his step-son is the bully? Nothing, absolutely nothing.
The tragedy of life. You’re defined by your status, the name of the brand you’re wearing, the number of zeros you have in your bank account. It’s all about masking our imperfections to fit society.
Alex Blake was a man I despised after my step-father. They both sickened me and made me loathe the male species. He wasn’t your typical high school bully that had a different girl attached to him every second. And I have a slight idea why――they’re disgusted by him.
Another added feature was he barely smiled――not that I’m stalking him or anything ―― he always had a frown settled upon his face with red eyes and a huge scar on his hand that was once upon a time the talk of my school. And even though I hate to admit this――like really hate to admit this―― if it weren’t for his looks no one would have given him a second glance.
I usually snap at him with my best comebacks, but yesterday was a special case. Even though I loathe him, I’m sure no one ---and I mean no one --- is living a fairytale, everyone has a problem because our lives were supposed to be full of many unhappy moments and problems. At least that what I believe in to make myself feel less miserable.
“Smiths! Am I interrupting your dream?” The top person on my ‘I hope you die’ list, least favorite teacher, snapped.
“Well sir, I was just admiring your new toupee,” I said truthfully followed by a gasp. I’ve heard many disapprovals at my failed humour, but at least I think I’m hilarious. It was like a mask to hide behind in order to dissimulate the more vulnerable girl who wants nothing than to disappear from this town.
I was counting every second and every minute that passes by to get away and never come back.
“Ms. Smiths! Are you making jokes in my classroom? Is that how your parents taught you? ”
“My mum always told me to speak the truth, with all due respect. ” I could feel burning stares into my skin and loud gasps filling the room.
I felt alive for a second and a burst of laughter unintentionally escaped me.
"Smiths! Detention.” He said, gritting his teeth and touching his hair. Busted. I thought silently as I bit my lip, trying to prevent myself from another laughter escaping.
I had to do this. Detentions were my favourite since I don’t have to deal with my step-father ordering me around like a hired maid for at least a couple of hours.
It was my little secret, no one but myself knew.
What does it feel like to be bullied?
Imagine waking up in the morning knowing you will be facing one of your worst fears. It’s like someone who is afraid of heights knowing they are going to be standing on top of a tall building that day.*
It leaves emotional scars. It makes you doubt yourself, and makes you feel worthless, but here comes your job, how to not make it affect you. I had suffered a lot, not just from Alex, but from my step-father too.
12′o clock. Lunchtime. Do you know what that means? It means insults and insults and insults.
“If I’m a bitch, then I hate to know what you are.” I snapped back with a sly smirk, tilting my head slightly, I saw a set of cheerleaders staring back at me in shock.
“Is that your face? Or did your neck just throw up? ” Chloe Stylinson, my favourite cheerleader, tried to joke.
“Couldn’t help it, one look at you and I started to vomit.”
“Nice tan, orange’s my favorite color.”
“Mine’s yellow, that’s why I love your teeth.” I smiled, his face turned red at the insult.
“What is this smell? Someone hasn’t showered in years. Oh sorry, Angel Smiths, did you I offend you?” Another one of my favourite comedian- Sebby Frow- said in a huge grin.
“I’m actually honoured, Sebby. Did you stay the night searching for a lame joke? It explains why your latest botox surgery keeps on failing. What did I hear? Was that horse shit coming from your mouth? ” I retorted with an innocent smile. Sebby touched her face in horror and if it weren’t for her bitchy attitude I might have felt bad.
But I don’t.
Sebby Frow and Chloe Stylinson were enemies but that didn’t make sense as to why they were both seated in my usual spot. I chuckled, they probably had no idea that the usual person seated next to me kept his eaten chewing gums――he loves Bubble Tape and Bubble Yum ――
under the table.
Eyeing the empty chairs in the cafeteria, I sat next to a freshman who at first glanced at me in disgust but then ignored me. I had the urge to tell her ‘you’re like ten when did you last changed your diapers’ but I ignored my Devilish Angel and sided with the good Angel.
I placed my current favourite To All the Boys I’ve loved Before and begun reading with taking a small bite of my apple and listening to Paper Dolls by Bea Miller. I’ve always heard how singers save a lot of fans’ lives, the truth is they also saved mine.
People who die from suicide don’t want to end their life, they want to end their pain.*
You can never know if someone is in pain, with a simple fake smile, and you believed the act.
We battle with ourselves and sometimes we are our strongest enemies who constantly hate on ourselves and bring ourselves down. You live every day suffering from the pain you can end with one simple cut yet you choose to survive your battles. Battles with yourself.
“I wonder why your parents named you Angel, you are anything but an angel.” Alex Blake said before standing in the line whilst waiting for the food I’ve never been able to afford.
“I wonder why your parents named you Alex, you are anything but ...a human." I mentally facepalmed myself at the weak comeback.
And I could swear I saw him laughing, but I couldn’t differentiate whether he was mocking my comedian side or found my weak joke humorous.
I was Alex’s punching bag, it all depended on his mood.
It was five pm when detention ended. I wasn’t sure whether to be happy because the session was finally over or worried about what I’m about to face.
As I began walking, the empty silence was exhausting me and my mind wished again to take possession of myself, but I was wrong.
Truth to be told, I hated my house after my mother’s death. It was never the same after her death. The warmth of her eyes and her kindness were missing and I hated myself for wishing I was the one dead not her.
“Where have you been, bitch?!” He was seated on the couch, crossing his leg lazily over the other as he stared at me.
“Where students go to. Or should I pronounce it for you?”
“Do normal students stay until six p.m?” He looked at me very fierce in the eye. Really scary. A really scary face. And if it weren’t for the act I’ve been pulling up for years, I might have shown how terrified I was currently feeling.
“What’s this called thing called to punish students?” I waited for it for a whole five seconds as if I’m deeply in thought for the obvious word. “Oh wait, detention. I got detention.”
“Detention! Do you know how would this could affect my reputation?!” He yelled, his scream echoing through the house. His eyebrows were narrowed as he glared at me.
“I’m sorry, sir.” I apologised sarcastically. Did he really think I gave a flying fuck about his reputation? Even though he was an important man in our town, everything I’m not. I wholeheartedly despised him. He was loved though by our town. Everything I wasn’t.
His fist made contact with a deafening, crack. Numbing pain shot through me, black dots spotted my vision.
I stumbled back with the taste of blood in my mouth. Tears stung the corners of my eyes, but I blinked them away.
“Make yourself useful and cook some food, I’m hungry.” He ordered, daring me to object. When he knew I wasn’t about to mutter any nonsense, he smirked and sat back on the couch, his eyes fixed back on the TV.
I’m glad my mother isn’t here to see the monster you’ve turned into, old man.