I look at the world as something I need to put together again, rain scattered drops on the cold pavement. I sit and think about how I completely convinced myself that no one
ever gives a shit anymore, so I try and contemplate whether I should care so much myself.
It always turns out that I do.
I’m not sure if that’s a sign to continue in this new, strange place of which I moved.
But what I do know, is that it’s going to be bullshit keeping up with the rest. It’s so chaotic, the way they move. Like snakes filled with gossip and stereotypes, slithering down the halls to create the drama of which they dwell as they hunt a new prey to taunt.
You’d expect the female leading me down this hall to be one of them, which indeed she was. She laughed with her friends, introducing me to the tall blonde girls with curls in their hair, batting eyelashes as she tried to keep up with the rest of them.
“Girls,” She said in this new southern drawl I was not accustomed to, “This is Deirdre, She’s new to town, much less to Tennessee.” The only thing different about them in comparison to the over-populated high school of Thunder Ridge High I once went to, back in Colorado, was their accents. Other than that, they were tall and wore the clothes of prostitutes, faces caked in makeup. They tried too hard for my taste.
I smiled, “It’s nice to meet you all.” They all expressed their fair share of compliments, “Oohing” and “Awing.” But I know they all knew I wasn’t one of them.
Jenni, the girl showing me around the school, giggled a bit and said, “Okay, girls, I’ll be back soon. I still have to show Deirdre the rest of her classes.” She hugged each and every one of them, giving a slight kiss on the cheek before she grabbed my hand excitedly and pulled me along.
Turned out, I had five classes with the female. Woop de fucking do.
“Deirdre, I know this is strange since you’re new and all... But would you like to hang out after school today?” She batted her long, mascara-covered eyelashes at me. I can’t believe she really just invited me over to her fucking house. Apparently, for Tennessee, she lived on the ‘rich side’ of this small town.
This ought to be good.
I shrugged, “Yeah, sure, why not?” She squealed like the snobby pig she is, hugging me.
“Great!” She exclaimed, “This is going to be soooo much fun... We can, like, go to the mall and give you a new wardrobe and I can do your hair and makeup and Ohmigawd, ma’am, you’re going to look soooo fuckin’ gorgeous!”
I really wanted to facepalm.
© Copyright 2016 NecroManiac. All rights reserved.
Poem / Other
Poem / Other
Book / Thrillers
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