1989: The Stories

Shake It Off

Names are an essential part of our society these days. Names tell us who we are and give us independence. Yes, there are people who have the same name as you... But let's not get off topic shall we!

Changing names can also represent a new you, a new beginning, hence a new name. Take Tom Riddle vs Lord Voldemort, Beatrice Prior vs Tris, Tobias Eaton vs Four, Anakain vs Darth Vader or Augustus vs Gus.

Some of those examples changed their names as they didn't like their old one. I'm sure there are lots of people out there who don't like the name they have on their birth certificate, myself included.

It's not that I don't like my name, it's just that, my name makes my life a living joke at university. That's because: 1, my name is really dated and 2, a nasty nickname, along with good ones, can be made from it.

My name is Wilhelmina Prewett, and am probably the most bullied girl at Downforth University.

If you ever see me around, feel free to call me "Mina", "Mia" or "Minnie"; that's what my few friends call me by. Don't be a bully and call me "Willy", or you'll have to.... Here, why don't I just tell you?

~🎵~

I lay on my bed whilst brushing my long luscious chocolate hair. My life is one like a fairy tale; the Prince should be here any moment to ask me to "let down my hair".

I hum to a song of my own invention as I skip around my tower that is in the middle of a magical forest. The tower is covered from floor to ceiling with my brown hair and paintings of the outside world that I have created over the past several years.

At the sounds of the "clip, clop" of my Prince's horse, I race to the window. I make sure not to stick my head - or hair- out it, in case it isn't him. I hear the signal:

"Miss Prewett. Miss Prewett!"

Huh, I think to myself, that's not the right response.

"Miss Prewett. MISS PREWETT!"

I open my eyes and see Mr. Evans, my Geography Professor, in front of my desk, breathing down my neck, looking infuriated.

I feel a wet streak trickling down my mouth. I quickly wipe it off as I realise I've been drooling all over my Antarctica essay.

"Sorry Sir," I say, "I... um... Er-"

"And may I ask you, Miss Prewett, what I had just been talking about?" Snaps Mr. Evans.

"I don't know Sir." I reply softly.

Mr. Evans responds with a fear-inflicting stare. My spine shivers as he tells me plainly to see him after the lecture.

Snickers arise from the back of the auditorium. I turn my head as Mr. Evans walks away to be greeted with three horrific faces, squawking at me.

"Hey Willy! Been staying out too late at that bar you always go to again?" The one on the right says to me. He's a gorilla of a man, with a fat face and minuscule brain.

His name is Justin Hood, and is probably the most cliche bully you could come across, for me anyway.

"Yeah, and also because that brain of her's is practically empty!" cries the girl in the middle. It's impossible to see her face (which has so much makeup on it's not even funny) as her super shiny black hair, when tilted at the right angle, blinds you!

Most boys don't even care what her name is because, let's face it, she's skinny, pretty (I don't know what they see but anyway), her bosoms are massive and she's got a huge butt.