Heathers Requests/One Shots

Martha in the Bathroom

I made a friend who likes Heathers, I'm so happy someone actually shares my interests at my school! In other news, I completed my first playthrough of Doki Doki Literature Club and... it's interesting? Anyway, onto the fic! TW//Panic attack (I don't get panic attacks personally, so I tried to be as accurate as possible)

If she had to pick a favorite movie (besides The Princess Bride, of course) it would be High School Musical. Gabriela says, "Why can't things be like kindergarten?" And why couldn't they be? Me and Heather (Duke) were friends, and she was actually nice.

She still liked green and yeah, she was slightly overbearing, but nice and helpful. She had even taught Martha how to read. They had been inseparable. Then elementary school happened and they weren't as close, then middle school and Heather shut her out, then high school, where it was clear:

Martha Dumptruck was a nobody. Heather Duke was everything. That was just what it was.

And now, fast forward to the worst day of her life. Everything had seemed to be going her way. She had worn something that she though was flattering, and picked up some apple cider from the store as a gift. For Ram. Her second crush.

Her first one had been young love, nothing important. But in a more real sense, it was everything she had. Because she wasn't hear crying about Ram Sweeney, of all people. Sure he was athletic and maybe slightly attractive, but still, that wasn't what broke her heart.

It was the way Heather's eyes sparkled when she insulted her. It was the way Heather looked so effortlessly beautiful in a way she never could. If it were back to kindergarten she would have helped me, giving me advice like exercise routines and clothing tips.

But no, Heather was... well, she was a Heather. She ruled the school, a regal queen, a far off paragon of perfection. Martha was merely a peasant, so Heather was entitled to the power she had power over her. She was just better than her, in every way.

She felt her breathing pick up. No, not here, not now...

The room was spinning and she stumbled backwards into the wall. She tried not to think about the walls shaking as she crashed into it, sliding down as she scrunched her eyes closed. She had had panic attacks before, but here, at the biggest party of the fall?

She gasped in air, clutching her hair tightly in her hands. Knock, knock, knock, knock. Great, people were knocking. Martha's eyes shot to the door. She could practically see the door vibrating at the force of the knocks. Knock, knock, knock, knock.

"Ah- hell," she muttered tripping over her feet trying to stand up. She world spun and fear clawed at her, but she tried to make her way to the door. "I'll be out soon!" she promised, stumbling her way over to the sink.

She splashed water on her face, trying to jolt herself back into reality. She felt a bit better. Not much, but it would have to do. She made her way over to the door, but when her hand touched the knob, the knocks stopped. The pounding in her head, however, was ever present. 

She rested her forehead against the tiles, taking deep breaths. She could feel her heartbeat all the way in her toes. Her entire body was aching. She could almost hear the kids mocking her. Poor little Martha Dumptruck, having a panic attack by herself like a loser! Oh, is she crying? Ha! I knew she was a freak.

Did people not realize she was a person, with feelings, and thoughts? Their actions had consequences! Her memory called her back to the first - and last - time she had reported kids bullying her. It wasn't the Heathers, actually. It was Carrie Carroway, along with Annie Wattson. 

"It was just Martha Dumptruck!" Annie had yelled, stamping her little botties as Carrie nodded in agreement. Little Martha hadn't processed what those words meant, but now she knew.

Just Martha. Martha in the bathroom, at a party, all by herself. She gave a gasping sob, sinking down onto her knees as tears finally escaped her eyes.

(Sorry for the short chapter!)
(655 words)