Memories

stereotype

After lunch I had PE. Which I'm actually really good at. I skate pretty much everywhere, so I have very strong leg muscles. That sounds a little weird, but I do. You wouldn't be able to tell that by looking at me though. I look super weak, but I'm not.

When PE was over I was left by my "body guards?" to get back into the clothes I was wearing before. I have no clue what to call those guys.

"Hi, Anastasia. What are you wearing?"

"The same thing I was earlier. Why?"

"Well, I guess I just needed to see it twice to know how terrible it is."

She and her friends, it's so weird how they're always behind her, started laughing about my outfit. It's not even that bad, I just don't put in two hours every morning making sure I look like Barbie. Not that I'd want to anyway.

"Let's see, you have on those black leggings, ripped jean shorts, blue long sleeve shirt, and then that vest. What kind of a look were you trying to go for? A person with no fashion taste?"

"Yeah, that's what I decided to wear today, deal with it. And that's definitely not a look."

"I'm not finished. I need to talk about your hair. It's all over the place. Those brown wavy strands would look so much better if you brushed them. But, it sounds like that's out of the picture. And that blue streak. It would look cool if you were a pop-star, or just maybe it wouldn't. I take that back, it would never look cool. Why'd you even do it?"

Truth be told I only did it because I wanted to, which in my opinion is a good reason.

"You're one to talk. You look like a plastic doll, cheap plastic doll. With your creepily curled cheerleader blonde hair, pink mini-skirt and oh more pink for your top. How cute... If you were seven."

This makes it seem like I don't blonde-haired people. That's not true. Like, Naia. She's my friend I guess, and she has blonde hair. Mainly, it's Lizzie who annoys me. It's just people like her that give blonde people a bad name. And she happens to have blonde hair and wear a lot of pink. Which is the sadly stereotypical "cheerleader look" and I'm not a fan of it.

"It's called style. Not like you would no if it slapped you in the face."

"Oh, yeah that's not style and I honestly do not care. Yeah, that's right, I don't care!"

I guess I yelled too loud. Because soon enough I was being carried off by my four men. My four men, huh, that sounds funny. And they were literally grabbing me by the arms and dragging me out. It was like someone called security on me for sneaking into a concert. Not that I've ever done that. I wouldn't. Probably wouldn't. Okay, maybe I would. That's not the point. Besides, it's not like I'm going to be sneaking anywhere for a while.

"Alright, I wasn't going to do anything crazy."

"We know."

"Then why'd you drag me out of there?"

"Because we need to take you home. And since you were being so loud, why not just pull you out anyway?"

"Why? Wait, that's weird. But, school just ended. Is it that urgent?"

"Actually, it is. Everyone at this school that's talked to you in the past two years is being questioned. And you're not allowed to be here at that time."

"Why?"

"Don't ask questions we need to get you home."

"Okay. Since you're the only one of you guys that's talked to me so far. What's your name? So, I can call you something besides man."

"Since I don't really want to be called man, I'll tell you. I'm Steve. The other men don't want you to know their names. So just address me if you have any issues."

"Okay, this is a little weird, but oh whatever. These past three days have been so weird."

"Three? The boy was found yesterday."

"Oh, I meant two days."

"Sure,"

"Yeah..."