by Sarah Tork
Normal.
Me.
Now.
*~*~*
ANNABELLE
Fast.
I ran fast.
The bell rang, but my luck riding the bus back from Ned’s was total crap. Traffic killed the way back to school and I was late. But being a few minutes late to class was the least of my worries. My phone was in my backpack and it was still cold.
Honestly a part of me knew I could handle what was coming my way, but that didn’t mean I would enjoy it. I’d take it like a vaccine shot to an arm, like a bandage about to be ripped off my skin, and like eating the cabbage soup my grandma liked to make every so often. I’d endure it, wince in pain… but I’d survive with my head held high with the off chance I might puke in distress later… like private time later.
I’m human… not a robot. Crap times will bother me… it’s inevitable.
I skipped steps on my way to the school entrance. When I entered the hallway, my shoes made squeak noises, ruining the deafening silence. On my way to class, my anxiety announced its presence. I would have to knock on the door and wait for Mr. Doors to open it. Joining class as the last person standing was nerve wrecking, but the potential seating situation had me more anxious. Was there a seat “waiting” for me? Or, would I be sitting alone today?
“Get out of my way!”
Outside the washroom entrance, a loud gagging noise from an evil witch put the brakes on my legs. Agony filled groans and gasps echoed through as the washroom entrance quickly transformed into the gates of hell
“Ew! Gross!”
“What a shocker, you’re completely useless. Get out of here, you ugly piece of shit.”
“I’m not ugly! You’re the one puking! And… you’re the one who’s ugly!”
“Go away. You moron. I’m done with you.”
“Like I care!”
“You should care, you’re out of the crew, for life.”
“I’m out? Like, look in the mirror bi-otch, if anyone’s gonna get kicked out, it’s gonna be you. I’ll make sure of it!”
“Try and see what’ll happen to you, Stacey. I’ll make your life a living hell, you stupid piece of garbage… ugh... um... ugh…. oh no! Errrrr!”
“Ew! Gross!”
The gates opened and the gags and gasps grew louder, sounding way more nasty. With her hands over mouth, the traitorous apprentice, AKA Stacey, bolted out, looking disgusted.
“Fire” framed the doorway, erupting wildly as her evil witch-ness stormed out next, with a trail of “black” and “red” bile down her chin. Evilness charged through her eyes as she glared in the direction her “apprentice” took off in. Then my damn shoes squeaked as I shifted in place and the most hated gaze, with the darkest, evilest eyes set its sights on me. But I wouldn’t cower. Little did this dark witch know, that a white knight, a hero from heaven’s gates stood before her, ready.
I was ready.
“Get out of my face, Fire Freak.” She growled a nasty stench in my face, which served as her first detrimental blow.
Damn it, I got hit! Girl down! Girl down! Girl down!
“Ew, get away from me.” I backed away, blowing her stink away with my hand. “Your breath stinks like something died in there.”
“I’ve had enough of you.” Donna growled.
I smirked. “Had enough of me? You’re crazy. Stay away from me.” I walked away, but Donna followed right behind me.
“You liked hearing me puke, didn’t you? Didn’t you!” Donna snarled like a lunatic. “You’re not fooling anyone.”
“Leave me alone,” I told her sternly.
She cackled loudly, accelerating passed lunacy and heading straight for pure madness, reminding me of the Joker. “You’re not fooling anyone. I know exactly how you lost weight. You puked your brains out, didn’t you? Didn’t you! What a sad human being, and the worst part is, you’re still ugly.”
I stopped in my tracks and got in her face. “You’re bat-shit crazy, and you have the ugliest soul in this school.”
Her rage grew as she leaned closer and slammed her shoulder roughly into mine. “Payback’s a bitch, bitch.”
Excuse me?
I wanted to hit her back.
I had to.
And I would.
Without regrets.
No hesitations.
Just like I did last week.
I dropped my backpack, but Donna was too quick. She jumped in front of me, with her arms doing a windmill motion. And before I had a chance to block her “ninja” moves, her hand made contact with my face. Something wet dripped down my jaw. I caressed my cheek and felt a wet scratch on my cheek. It stung annoyingly as I pulled my hand away, seeing blood on my fingertips.
Oblivious to my bleeding, Donna’s windmill motion went full steam trying to get my right cheek, too. This time I blocked her hits, but she must have eaten some sugar or spinach earlier, because her charge went to max. So, I had no choice but to match her force. I felt like an idiot, flailing my arms like a tailspin. Then, all of a sudden, she got her nasty claws on my ponytail and yanked it so hard I thought I just lost a chunk of hair. So, I grabbed her hair too, which resulted in a blood-curling scream.
Chapter 24
ANNABELLE
Late November me sat in the main office, staring at the deteriorating L-shaped mahogany desk, where the receptionist sat behind, hissing to her ex-husband on the phone for the last thirty minutes.
“Over my dead body, Gilroy. You’re not getting Fluffy.”
The coffee maker buzzed loudly and the light turned red. This command center’s elusive elixir lured those “invisible” to me in the waiting room, out from their caves and in a long line in front of the all sacred machine that promised at least one more hour of resilience against the evil annoying students who commanded their time oh so unfairly. The faculty grabbed their lifelines in large mugs and returned to their designated hubs. The last woman in line forgot to close her door and her conversation grabbed my interest in a way I was internally grateful for.
“Diane, I can’t do this. I can’t. My blood pressure is shooting through the roof. The pool is on its last legs again and they’re not going to fix it until after Christmas. They’re going to shut it down next week. Once news gets out, that crazy swim team girl is going to be in here like a tornado, demanding answers. She’s relentless. She gives everyone in the office anxiety.”
I cracked a smile, which painfully stretched out the new not so healed scab on my cheek. I winced at the burning sensation and looked away from the front office area. I caught my reflection off the glass of the front door. I looked like I just rolled out of bed. My ponytail was wonky with strays of hair pointing out in every direction, and of course the pièce de résistance, the gnash on my cheek with a line of crusty blood over it.
Wonderful.
The receptionist was an older woman with greying hair and lines under her eyes. She was staring at me. The phone was glued to her ear again, but was her ex-husband on the line, or was it someone else? Like the principal, maybe? Was I in trouble? Would I be the only one to get in trouble? Donna was nowhere to be seen. After I pulled her hair and she screamed in pain, classroom doors popped open and we were quickly separated. They took me straight to the office, but her, well… I had no idea.
The receptionist hung up the phone and cleared her throat roughly. “Damn it, I need a cigarette.” She groaned quietly before facing me. “Have you calmed down, yet?”
Interesting.
I was calm on the outside, but I burned like a volcano simmering, with lava boiling and bursting and bubbling at the edge.
But I nodded anyway.
“Vice Principal Adams won’t be in for this matter. But he feels because this is your first time in here, there’s no need to call your parents. But this is a formal warning. Any more scuffles like that on school grounds, we’ll call your parents and you will face a week’s suspension. Understood?”
I nodded.
“Good. Now
head on over to the nurse’s office so she can examine the bruise on your cheek?”
I grabbed my backpack off the floor and exited the main office. But I heard the receptionist groan again.
“They don’t pay me enough to deal with this shit. Filing documents, and answering phones, and taking messages, that’s what my job is, not disciplining students and babysitting them. I’m calling the union about this crap after I take my break. Where are my gosh darn smokes!”
That made me smile.
No one wanted to do their job in this school, at least not when it came to disciplining. I remembered Jenna telling me there was a fight every week in this school and it shocked me to hear. It didn’t shock me anymore. Hell, there was a fight every other day now, but they – as in the faculty – just brushed it under the rug with an empty threat.
No retribution.
No justice.
It’s settled. In order not to fall to my doom, every second I’m in this school I must be in defense mode.
Truth.
I went to the nurse’s office and she cared for the bruise on my cheek and placed a bandage over it. Then she asked me a series of questions that I was sure was strictly protocol. Once she was satisfied that I wasn’t severely depressed, and that I wasn’t having a concussion, she handed me a note for first period and said I was good to go.
Good.
To.
Go.
Wow.
The nurse was either a clairvoyant, or she was just DAMN good at her job. I wasn’t a believer of either. The nurse had hilariously deciphered my mental health and wellbeing all from yes and no answers to ten questions. What had satisfied her enough to send me on my way? Did I answer enough questions the “right” way, appeasing her worries? Was it… six out of ten, hurrah – you’ve passed – you’re good to go now… kind of system she had going?
That’s messed up.
With second period being fifteen minutes away, I wasn’t sure if I even wanted to go to first period. Instead, I went to the washroom first and fixed my hair into a clean ponytail. I tightened my hair tie and winced at the part of my head that still felt pain. Speaking of post fight damages… I glared at my reflection, my anxiety shooting through the roof. My face had spots of redness that screamed “slapped”, but the kicker was the huge tan colored bandage on my cheek, which stood out like a sore thumb.
How would everyone react to my face?
How would James react to it?
I felt the cold burn of my dormant cellphone in my backpack and my spine itched with discomfort. Irritation had a firm grip on my psyche, with no plans on letting go. I thought rumors moved fast in this school. Was it plausible that no one heard of the fight between Donna and me by now? More than a few people saw what had happened. This news should have been received.
So… what was going on?
Why didn’t anyone send me any text messages?
Maybe you’re not as important as you so delusionally believe, Annabelle Simms? Get a reality check, you moron. Stat.
I took the plunge and headed to English. I waited before knocking on the door and peeked though the door window to view the seating arrangement. I had a good view of the first few rows, but then my heart stopped. Two seats in the middle were empty. That meant every other seat in class was taken.
Fast.
I wanted to run fast.
“Annabelle?”
Did someone just call my name? I froze for a second before turning and seeing Mr. Doors heading my way.
“There you are, Annabelle. I was just in the office looking for you.” he said, stopping in front of me.
I cleared my throat. “Um, hey Mr. Doors. Um… sorry about being late. I have a note though.”
“I know, but it’s fine. The main office informed me of what had happened. I’m glad you’re okay, though.”
My heart grew warm.
I could cry.
He was so nice.
“Thanks.” I said.
Mr. Doors opened the door and ushered me inside. “Come on, in you go. Just in time for me to announce an upcoming project.”
I almost forgot about the seating situation. I made it three steps in before realizing what I was really walking into, which was something potentially, probably, very, very, very horrible. But it wasn’t like that. Two seats in the middle row were still empty. But the back row was only nearly full. Someone was sitting in my seat. But the seat next to her was…. empty.
What was that saying again?
All’s fair in love and war?
How hilarious.
How shameless.
Obviously, I chose a seat in the middle row. But as soon as I sat down in my chair, I felt a chill shoot down my spine. My gut told me it was that girl, which was kind of funny, especially after the morning I just had. It was kind of cute actually, how she had the nerve to stare daggers at my back.
Because didn’t Nadine Richmond know… I’ve dealt with far worse bitches than her.
*~*~*
ANNABELLE
The bell rang.
Second period started.
And I was on my way down the stairs, heading away from school.
I had enough.
My backpack bounced against my back as I landed on the sidewalk. The sun shined heavily, making me break out in sweat. I wiped my forehead and stared at the full parking lot, wondering if a certain SUV was parked there. But that was stupid of me to think. Of course his car wouldn’t be there. He didn’t show up for school today.
Yet.
Besides all that, now I had to come up with something to do. I couldn’t go home, as the second best lie on reserve – being sick – wouldn’t do much as my “credibility” with my mom these days was thinner than a string. Her gut told her something was up, and that I was hiding something. If I came home, pretending to be sick and on top of that with a bandage on my face, she’d want answers. I had no more strength left in me. I had no answers to give to her.
I took a seat on the grass and sighed out loud.
Why couldn’t today be normal?
Carefree?
Relaxed?
Instead, it’s been one jab at my mental and physical wellbeing, after the next.
This is bullshit.
“You.”
I closed my eyes in distress at the nasally call of an evil ogress. I had like twenty percent left in me and it looked like her royal witch-ness was back with a vengeance, ready to drip me dry of sanity. I looked up and there she was, standing on the sidewalk, staring down at me with her hair up in a perfect ponytail. That made me laugh, because Donna never wore her hair up in a ponytail…. like ever.
“You’re a stupid bitch.” she growled, curling her hands into bone tight fists. “You won’t be laughing for much longer.”
Nineteen percent.
I smirked at her, doing my best to seem smug. I got off the grass and took one step toward her. “Has anyone ever told you…. that you’re fucking insane?”
“At least I’m not a loser, like you.” She informed me with a nasty smile on her slightly reddened face.
I sneered at her. “I’d rather be a loser, than a delusional psychopath.”
That did it.
Calling Donna a delusional psychopath was the equivalent to a matador holding a red cape in front of an enraged bull. She charged at me, and this time I was ready for her ninja moves of destruction. I got one swing in just as her arms went full windmill, grabbing at my cheek and ripping off the bandage and sinking her nasty claws over my wound.
“Stop it right now!”
“Let go of one another, this instant!”
The blinding glare of the sun parted for one brief moment as Mr. Nolan and Ms. Lady stood on the bottom step with a cigarette in between their fingers. Their cigarettes were quickly hidden in their pockets as they marched toward us.
Eighteen percent.
“You’re just going to leave me here like this!” Donna yelped inside the main office ten minutes later. Her ponytai
l was wonky and her face, courtesy of moi, had a justified scratch along her jawline.
The receptionist looked unfazed as she examined her fingernails. “The vice principal will see you shortly.”
Donna turned on the waterworks. Her lips rippled, doing a great job at portraying the victim, which she wasn’t, but I was still in awe at the performance.
“I need to go to the nurse’s office again. I’m in pain. There’s no reason for me to even to be here. Annabelle has been attacking me all day. Don’t just sit there and watch. Do something! She’s the one who attacked me this morning and outside just now!”
The receptionist exhaled loudly. “After Vice Principle Adams speaks with the both of you, then you both may go to the nurse’s office.”
Donna grimaced like she was trying to get an award. “But I’m in pain, I need medical attention!”
“What’s all the ruckus!” Vice Principal Adams stormed out from his office and scowled at Donna and me, even though I wasn’t the one yelling, but oh well… life.
Donna rippled her lips again, fake crying. “It was her, she’s the one who attacked me! Again!” Donna pointed to me. “It was all her! Again!”
Vice Principal Adams grunted and returned back to his office. The receptionist also shook her head and rolled her eyes in disbelief. How interesting. It seemed no one was buying Donna’s story.
I covered my mouth with my hand and stifled a hard, deep belly chuckle that was desperate to escape. I wanted to stand in front of Donna’s face and just laugh and yell, “Ha – ha -ha -ha -ha – ha, no one believes you!” But I wasn’t that petty, or actually I didn’t want to push the envelope and make the situation worse for myself. Then miraculously, my phone buzzed, chiming with incoming text messages. It was a relief… hearing those sounds, but I wasn’t going to check my phone in the office, not while I was on the verge of being punished. I sat silently and my phone chimed five more times. I smiled big, but then I cringed in pain.
I caressed my cheek, feeling the thrash of Donna’s anger crusty wound. “Oh yeah, my cheek.”
