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“you want me to go punch him in the face?”
no. that’s completely ridiculous, and quite out of left field, too. you pick on me, too. why do you care? that’s right — you don’t, not even a little bit, not at all.
it plays again and again in my head, spinning around like an old, worn down record that some old man still plays despite it’s consistent skipping. i don’t understand why ben has become nicer to me as of late — and i really don’t like it, either. it’s unnerving and something bad is going to happen quite soon, not as if the worst of it hasn’t already happened by now.
nothing about me has changed, this isn’t some teenage love story where the bullied fat girl has some sudden transformation over summer break and is suddenly skinny, and suddenly no one hates her, and suddenly everyone wants to be around her. i’m still me — still violet — still with the same stature and weight that hasn’t moved an inch. still the one that’s smart but not pretty enough to go along with it… and i’m still wrapped in cold sheets on an autumn morning, in mid 2011, still debating on if i should go to school at all. maybe i should drop out, make life easier on everyone besides me. pushing my face into my pillow, i inhale, then exhale, then inhale again, and imagine knocking on wood. imagining it is just as good as doing it. i’ll go to school today; or else my mom would flip.
⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨ ♱ ୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹ ⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨ ♱ ୧₊‿︵‧
i arrive and it’s empty, of students, atleast. then i realize i got here way too early. there’s a few teachers in their respective classrooms, but i’m the only one wandering the halls. it’s cold. if i stand here long enough, maybe it’ll snow. whilst i’m going through my locker, i hear something behind me, footsteps and then the sound of a lock clicking back and forth, and i glance back.
jessica. i don’t know what jessica and i are; not quite enemies but not friends, either, but i wish we were friends. i used to tutor her, but she decided she could handle it all on her own — the one who put me up to it still thinks i tutor her every thursday. our tutoring was barely tutoring, though. it was just us hanging out in her bedroom, and she was nicer to me then than she’s ever been in front of others. and the locker slams shut, and i look down, and as i open my eyes i see a pair of pink shoes in front of my black ones, standing nearly toe-to-toe. “viiiiiiooolettttt!” she stretches out my name, and i finally look up at her. sparkling eyeshadow and smudged lipstick fills my vision, and everything feels just a tad warmer.
“you’re here early.” i say, pushing myself against the locker behind me in an effort to regain some sort of personal space. i want for there to be a forcefield around me, one that knocks everyone back.
“yeah! i want to get good at this whole school-thing!”
she seems way too chipper — something id wrong here?
“…when we’re less than two years from graduating?”
“i mean, yeah, never too late!”
no offense to jessica, but she has the beauty but lacks the brains. there’s probably a combined grade of ‘E’ between her and the rest of her friends.
“yeah, for sure.” i force a smile, pretending that that isn’t the dumbest thing i’ve ever heard.
“anyways, me and ben and some other people are hanging out after school, wanna come with?”
my heart drops from my chest and falls onto the floor, leaving a bloody mess that not even the janitor could clean. it splashes everywhere, spilling beneath doors and into the lockers. everyone jessica hangs out with hates me. they somehow bully me even more than jonatan — and under the pressure, the words spill from my mouth.
no.
”sure, i’d love to.”
why the hell would i say that? i see my beating heart on the floor and it’s gushing enough blood to drown us all; no one notices. i wince at the bloody sight.
“yay! see you at four!” and she disappears into the shallow, bloody lake. and i pull it together and shove my heart down my mouth and place it soundly back into my ribcage, and the blood on the floor flows out of the school doors and into a storm drain, and the floor is stained red. it’ll be fine. it has to be. today’s schedule is the same as yesterday’s, and i’ll be sharing classes with jonatan. another day of being turned into a circus animal, a will-less spectacle at a freak show; i bet that’d sell a lot of tickets, and if i did, i’d be rich.
⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨ ♱ ୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹ ⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨ ♱ ୧₊‿︵‧
social studies.
jonatan is sitting next to me, today. and he keeps shooting me dirty looks — and something no good is about to happen. yesterday, he didn’t bother me at all besides shoving me once in the halls, but it seems he’s back to doing it again.
math.
and i’m sharing a class with ben, and he doesn’t sit next to me. he sits where he usually does, in the very back, and i sit in the middle of the room. i ignore him.
history.
i’m sharing a class with everyone i don’t want to share with, and i can hear them whispering about me, and some glare directly at me and laugh. sharp eyes surround me and each one burns a tiny hole into the layers of my skin and fat and muscle and my organs.
⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨ ♱ ୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹ ⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨ ♱ ୧₊‿︵‧
“flower, why didn’t you say hi to me in class?”
this asshole, again. there’s no longer any sort of element of surprise. i turn around from my locker, and again, ben is way too close, and it’s making me uncomfortable.
“it’s violet,” i mumble under my breath, clutching the book that was meant for my locker against my chest. “…i didn’t know you were there.” i lie through my teeth, we locked eyes when class began but i looked away and ignored him. he was certainly there, and very clearly so. “you already know that’s not true.” he sighs, and i don’t get why he keeps bothering me.
“what, you don’t want to hang out with me?”
definitely not.
“what do you want?” i finally ask, avoiding eye contact — i’m beyond unnerved and every time i move my eyes, his follow. “stop looking away from me.” this is scary. “you’re coming to hang out with us later, right?” i nod my head, and i feel like a scared, cornered animal. i nod my head, and mentally i’m shoving him backwards and away from me completely. “i’ll see… where are we going?” i ask him, and his eyes are burning my retinas, and my face is flushing.
“not a clue!” he pulls away from me, and the dread seeps in. i wish he told me details so that i could come up with some lame excuse as to why i couldn’t go — for a party, it’d be ‘my mom would kill me’ — for a diner, it’d be ‘my mom is already cooking dinner.’ — for going downtown, once again it’d be ‘my mom would kill me.’ — and i can’t use any of those now. “who will be there?” i ask, and i’m met with a short list of people, and what stands out is the fact that jon won’t be there.
“jonatan’s not coming?” ben rolls his eyes. “why would he?”
“aren’t you two friends?”
he looks vaguely offended.
“seriously? han är galen!”
and i’m even more confused now, is he playing some sort of trick on me? i always see them around eachother — and they share common friends, it doesn’t seem as if he thinks he’s crazy. even the common insults that jonatan throws at me, ben throws, too. and most of all i’m put off by everything today. maybe tonight everyone will try to ruin my life, and i’ll finally be allowed to die bitter and alone.
what a good news paper headline,
𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐥𝐞𝐭 𝐛𝐫𝐨𝐨𝐤𝐞𝐬, 𝟏𝟕, 𝐟𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝 𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐚𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐚𝐧 𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐲𝐰𝐚𝐲 𝐚𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐬 𝐬𝐨𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐦𝐮𝐫𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐡𝐞𝐫.
⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨ ♱ ୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹ ⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨ ♱ ୧₊‿︵‧
jessica invited me to her house so she could help me get ready. she thinks i have no sense of style (potentially true) but i don’t see how she could help — her clothes are all too small for me, and i feel strange when she straightens my hair. i don’t know why i keep letting her do it. i do like spending time with her, probably the reason why.
i’m in her room now, and she’s trying to turn my plain clothes into something more stylish. she bunches up the right side at the bottom of my shirt, tying a knot and securing it with a hairtie, and now my plain black tee is cropped and fitted.
“i don’t think that’ll look good on me.”
“don’t be so negative, vi!” and she clips a hairclip onto the waistband of my jeans — a makeshift accessory. “how do you feel about bangs?” she asks, “what do you mean?” “like, the hairstyle”
i never thought about it before. i quite like my plain middle part. she takes a comb and parts a small, triangle shaped segment, pinning it between her fingers. “lets try it!” she exclaims, reaching for scissors, and i’m terrified that she’s intentionally going to cut it too short, making me look as if my hair got hacked off with a machete. “i don’t thi-“ and a snip. and another, and another, and i’m terrified to see a long lock fall in front of my eyes and onto my lap, but there’s still hair covering my eyes. she reaches for a hair straightener and i can hear it crackle, and i pray to god that it doesn’t fry the remainder clean off. she giggles and her eyes light up. “you look way better! look!” she shoves a handheld mirror into my hands, and i’m shocked to find that i like it, well, i’m not sure if i do. it reminds me of when i was in elementary school, and it stands out a bit too much.
she looks down at her phone and gasps. “we have to go!” she grabs her bag, my arm and drags me from her bedroom, down the stairs, and out the door to her car.
⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨ ♱ ୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹ ⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨ ♱ ୧₊‿︵‧
i find myself downtown, and i sigh, looking at jessica pensively. “you already know how they all treat me.” “don’t worry about it, you’ll be fine!” easy for miss-popular-and-pretty to say. “remember, you’re with me!” and i groan. nothing about us being ‘friends’ will stop the torment that’s constantly imposed onto me. i think she’s doing this to torment me. eva will make tonight way worse than it has to be. jessica turns off her car, taking the keys from the ignition and shoves them into her jacket’s pocket. “c’mon!” and i follow, and i keep my head down low as much as i possibly can. i want to be invisible, and if anything, just observe them.
it’s dark, and there’s a lot of people out and about today — makes sense, this is the hottest spot for people our age to hang out, and this is my first time going with other people. the bus always runs this way, so i’ve only passed through. i can’t shake the feeling that something awful is going to happen tonight. “eva!” jessica shouts, waving her arm in the air as we both walk toward her, and i thank god that i’m not holding any coffee today, jessica’s hand is on my upper back. “jessica—oh!” eva replies, glaring at me. “so kind of you to bring… lavender?” intentionally getting my name wrong to make fun of me, a classic.
“don’t be mean, eva…” jessica pouts, “she’s my friend! be nice to her!” friend?
she has to be doing this as some messed up form of bullying, and i’m not falling for it.
well, except for tonight, of course. tonight i will go along with it — and tonight — i’ll pretend that we’re all the best of friends, and that nothing is wrong, and that this is what friendship means, and that… this is what i want. and i’ll pretend that i’m popular and cool, too, because just for the next few hours, i just as well may be.
that familiar, faint skunk smell is back, and i know exactly who it is approaching. it’s mixed with some sort of pleasant scent, but it’s still far too strong. this asshole, again.
⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨ ♱ ୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹ ⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨ ♱ ୧₊‿︵‧
we all went to get something to eat, to go, and we walk around the large city with drinks in our hands, and they’ve all been treating me way differently than they do at school, i’m confused. i don’t say anything.
my shoulder is nudged by ben, “what, you don’t know how to talk?” he hasn’t gotten the memo that poking at me is off the table until 7:00 am, monday. “i do.” i mumble a reply. “then why not talk to me?” there’s nothing to talk about with him, and he’s only being forced to put up with this. “why are you suddenly being nice to me?” i ask, voice quieter. “since when have i ever been mean to you?” he asks me, and we fall behind jessica and eva. “you don’t remember the day you shoved me under the leaking roof?” “wasn’t me!” what a fucking liar.
“don’t you have something better to do than bother me?” i mumble, my lips around the straw of my cup that’s only a quarter full. the ice is melting. “i’m not bothering you.” he replies, and i hope we both get hit by a wayward truck. “messing with me is off limits until monday.” i reply, and as we pass a trashcan i toss my cup into it, but it misses, and it hits the ground. the top pops off and the remaining ice spills everywhere. i debate telling him that i have to go home, and that my mom is worried about me — but that’d be a lie. it’s only six pm and she’s at work. and at this point, jessica and eva are far too distracted with what they’re doing that it seems they forgot i was even there, not even they could save me from this.
“you still never answered my question.”
“what?”
“the whole punching jonatan in the face thing, should i do it?”
“what? what is wrong with you? no!”
if he has no problem punching a friend in the face, god knows what he’d do to me.
i slouch my shoulders and ben tosses his heavy arm over them and i tense.
“come on, it might be a bit funny!” he prods in order to convince me.
“why do you even need my permission in the first place?!” i snap, i want no part of this. and deep down inside, i don’t want anything to happen to him, i try to see through everything and convince myself he’s just misunderstood.
“…besides, he’s your friend.”
“i already told you, he’s crazy. i’d rather die.”
he’s right about that. no one normal does all of the stuff jonatan does to me, but maybe there’s a reason for it all.
“what, you feel some sort of sympathy for him, or something?”
a little bit. yeah.”yes.”
“no.”
“then why are you so against it?” he won’t quit prodding.
“because it’s not my business… and like i said, you pick on me, too.”
“i’d never do that!”
this is going to be the longest night ever.