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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Young Adult  |  House: Booksie Classic
A young adult short story about the troubles an unhappy 14 year old girl faces through being bullied at school. Warning: contains some swearing and a sad, abrupt ending.

Submitted: October 25, 2011

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Submitted: October 25, 2011



The blood pounded fiercely inside my head as I edged quickly but cautiously down the deserted school courtyard. I'd stayed in for 10 minutes after everyone had gone home, hoping to avoid even more of the unspeakable horrors inflicted on me by my peers as a daily occurance. It was safe to walk home in peace now, or so I thought. I had made it just past the school gates when a deafening shout of "Where do you think you're wandering off to, fat b---tch?!!!" filled the icy air, followed by screams of laughter echoing around me. That was the ummistakable screech of none other than Samantha Patterson, one of the tallest, prettiest, most popular girls in my year group - and also one of my deadliest enemies. Ever since I started at Greenfield's Technology College two years ago, she has made my life absolute hell. Usually surrounded by her whole group of pathetic hangers on and her beloved boyfriend, they have all exercised a host of fun and exciting forms of torture. From the tripping me up and/or spitting at me in the corridoors, to the vandalising of my locker on which they had etched a gallery of crudely drawn pig faces and pornographic images, yes this is just some of the infernal reality I have to experience at this loathsome prison of a school. It's no good asking my parents for advice, as is any piece of worthless advice from teachers who don't give a flying fig, the worst one being of course the wretched "Just ignore them!" Well how can I help noticing when they're pinning me to the wall every single day after school, chanting "FAT B--TCH!!!" right in my face? Dad told me to try teasing them back. But what exactly is there to tease them about? Samantha Patterson; the complete opposite of me, 5'8, an aspiring model and actress, who lead the school's freestyle dance team to 5 consecutive victories as well as being an incredibly skilled volleyball player. With wavy blonde hair, cornflour blue eyes, her taut tummy and enviously long dancer's legs she simply looks like everything I've always aspired to be. No wonder she has so many follower friends and the star of the school football team wrapped round her little finger. And then there's me, short, clinically obese, eyes masked by thick round glasses, straggly hair that goes limp no matter how much I painstakingly try and style it. Topped off with thighs that would chafe painfully if I ever dared attempted to wear shorts or a mini skirt (oh well, its not like it would look amazing on me AT ALL) and acne that just won't disappear. You can see why Samantha & Co tease me. I'm a complete laughing stock because of my appearance. Its even worse that my head of house happens to be Miss Mitchell, none other that the head of the Dance and P.E departments. She would never believe me whenever I tried to tell her anything about what was going on, but that's understandable because Samantha and Pete (her boyfriend) are her favourite pupils: she practically WORSHIPS them. I have often fantasized about one day waking up with my mouse brown hair now wavy and full of life grown down to my waist, all the disgusting fat on my body mysteriously disappearing and in its place a totally flat stomach and lenghty lean legs. I would no longer need glasses, and my eyes would have turned into the biggest, widest eyes, sparkling emerald in colour. I would march into the grey gates of encarceration as I do every morning, only this time, Samantha Patterson and her gang, all prepared to ridicule me and call me "fat b--tch" once again would stare with their jaws dropping and faces tripping them. Pete would drop Samantha's arm in a heartbeat and hook himself on to mine, whilst all her girly minions would assemble behind us into submission as we walked inside the school. But alas, tis only a much sought after dream. I've tried losing the weight and changing my appearance, believe me, I've TRIED. My mother, a former 80s beauty queen has also attempted to help me in my quest - by signing me up to the gym. Its no use though, if I can't stop my damn cravings for Big Macs, three or four cheeseburgers in a row, huge cans of Pringles and Cadbury's crunchie bars, which I'm all addicted to as Novocaine. She also tried buying me half a wardrobe full of tiny size 8 clothes for motivation: tight tops and skirts which my gargantuan Size 20 (yes 20) figure could only fit into by using them as fabric bracelets on my chubby arms. I've been to the hairdressers half a dozen times in the hope that maybe a new hairstyle would magically make me attractive. No use, of course. I just look like a pig in ringlets. Which by the way, fuelled a whole new barrage of nicknames for me, "Frizzy Pig," "Miss Piggy," "Sketty Porker....."

I'm finally making my way home now, sobbing and slightly bleeding after yet another torture session consisting of the girls screaming catty abuse at me whilst Pete and his mates were holding me to the ground and kicking me in the shins. They're all too clever to try something like this during school hours. When my locker was vandalised, the teachers all blamed it on "some silly Year 7's, When will they ever learn?" ignoring my pleas for help as usual. The thing is, at Greenfields, it doesn't matter one single bit whether you're academically gifted, Greenfields is a sports specialist school as well as being a" Technology College" and it prides itself on its status. The members of the various sport and dance teams run the school with an iron fist, while the teachers bask in their shadows and would turn a blind eye even if any of them committed murder - "It couldn't have been Katie Safford, she's one of the best players on our girl's basketball team! She wouldn't hurt a fly!" Yeah right, Katie is none other than Samantha's best friend, and together they take pride in planning and coming up with the daily taunting schemes secretly carried out on me behind the teacher's backs and then unleashed in full force after school. Life's a b--tch isn't it? Well it is if you're a "fat b--tch" stuck in the Greenfield's hierarchy where the athletic Amazonian students have cultivated an ivory tower position on top of everyone else. Jesus said "the meek will one day inherit the earth" Ho ho, how I desperately long for that day to come.

"Enid!!" "My GOODNESS!!! how do you explain coming home from school so late?" Mum squeals in shock as I burst through the door. "And what on Sam's Green Earth happened to you?" - obviously noticing the cuts and bruises on my face and my scuffed kneepads. "Nothing Mum, I just tripped over and fell while running to get home as swift as possible. You see, Mrs Collins wanted to speak to me after school to congratulate me on how well I did during the mock English exam! That's why I got home so late!" I gabbled quickly. My mother bit her lip slightly and sighed. "Well you really should be more careful. And even if you were kept in late, how come you didn't let your father know? He could've driven by the school to pick you up on his way home from the office!" That was the one thing I was hoping to avoid. If half the kids in my year picked on me so much already, imagine the catcalls of "aww look she's scared!" "Wittle Baby!!" and "Daddy's Little Princess!!" that would follow if they saw me getting a lift home. No one in the Upper School did that, just the Year 7s and 8s. I began to wish I was still a little kid back in the village we used to live before we had to move down to the nearest main town due to Dad's job. I used to attend the local village primary, where I had my closest friend, Alicia. We would skip round the playground together, and she used to lend me her Minnie Mouse doll while I let her play with my Barbies. Every Friday after school, Mum would collect us both and take us back to our house, where she would let us bake chocolate chip cookies and fairy cakes. My throat suddenly swelled up and tears filled my eyes as I played these scenes from the past like a mini movie in my mind. "I'm sorry Mum. It won't happen again" I said, my voice high and squeaky, and rushed out of the entrance hall, wiping my face with the back of my hand. I decided to slump on the sofa in the living room. Dad was laying outstretched in his prized big armchair, watching "Deal or No Deal" but he jumped when he saw my gloomy expression. "What's up my little Enid Eclair? Those awful kids at school still giving you trouble?" he said as he sat down beside me on the sofa and soothingly ruffled my hair. I would say I get along a LOT better with Dad than with Mum. As an occasional treat, when I'm feeling extra sad, he would go down to the bakery and buy me a special big chocolate eclair. This was sweet of him, but of course it didn't help my cause of being overweight. Whenever Mum caught him in the act, she would scold him saying "She didn't ought to be stuffing her face with that fatty muck!! She's already ginormous enough as it is!!" Dad would apologise, saying he was sorry, it would never happen again, "I'll throw it straight in the bin dear!" but when Mum was out of sight and earshot, he would sneak it upstairs to me in my room, where I would devour it with blissful pleasure.

"Dad, why did I have to become so fat and immensely ugly that practically everyone at school hates me?!" I said tearfully and wept on his shoulder. "There there, Enid. You may think life's tough for you now, and that stupid Samantha Patterson and her nasty little friends might seem the biggest obstacle to you in your life, but believe me, it will get a lot harder when you get older. Why, just today I had to complete a whole chunk of paperwork that would've normally taken 4 hours within a 2 hour deadline! I tell you, your old man is one exahusted breadwinner tonight!!" he said cheerfully as I giggled. "I love you so much Dad. You're the only person with whom I can truly confide in with my problems. Mum would never understand would she? I know what she was like at my age. She was like...one of them you know, the Samantha Pattersons, skinny, sporty, pretty and popular!!" I suddenly felt the urge to start crying again. "Sweetie, I know exactly how she used to be." "But you don't have to be one of those fake, makeup caked hairsprayed bimbos. Me and your mother love you just the way you are." "Thanks Dad" I said, and gave him a quick hug before going up to my room to get started on my mountain of homework. But once I get to my room, homework is the last thing on my mind. I tear off my scruffy school uniform and stand just in my bra and knickers in front of the big mirror. Before looking at myself I turn around, and whisper "please please be pretty!!" just as if I might suddenly see the reflection of me as a gorgeous 5'10 nymph-esque beauty. It doesn't work. My stomach is so grotesquely enormous it looks like I've swallowed one of Mum's inflatable exercise balls. My double chin makes it seem as if my face is melted into my neck. I can feel the slight cutting sensation of my bra stretched tightly around the rolls of lard on my back. My thighs rub together like two pink ham hocks, and my arms are so puffy, its like they were the sleeves of an astronaut's suit. My hair hangs weak and lifeless on the sides of my ridiculous bottle cap glasses. I can't take it anymore. I scream loudly and sag down onto my knees on the carpet, sobbing hard into my clenched fists. Then I spontaneously remember the big packet of Doritos I had bought yesterday and hidden from Mum. I reach under my bed, grabbing it joyfully and retreating to a corner of my room away from the big mirror, munching with glee. I crunch each mouthful, then grab another cluster of chips and stuff it into my mouth. Then for the first time ever, I suddenly freeze up. "What the HELL am I doing?!!" my inner voice shouts through my brain. "This is just going to make me even fatter!!!" I look down to see the Doritos bag practically empty. "No, no what have I done?!!!" I mutter to myself. And from that moment, its as if some spirit from above was guiding my actions: I suddenly rush to the bathroom, lock myself in, ignoring the shouts of "Enid, dear are you all right? Enid?!!?! ENID!!!!!" downstairs from my parents. I open the medicine cupboard above the sink and grab the boxes containing various different pills. I tip a whole myraid of pills into the palm of my hand, take one last look at myself in the bathroom mirror, saying "This is what you get for being such an ugly waste of space, fat b--tch!!" before swallowing them with a great big gulp. Moments later, the world seems to be spinning faster and faster, like being caught on a crazy merry go round, I find myself falling with a huge great "THUMP!!!" on the floor. I can distantly make out the muffled underwater cries of "Enid!!! ENID!! OH GOD, DAVE WHAT IS SHE DOING IN THERE?!!!" as my last blurry sight is of the bathroom ceiling, until suddenly, everything in front of me goes completely pitch black.

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