Everyone's Out to Get Me

I Think I'm Being Stalked

Previously, you might've thought this was a story about a dumb (smart) blond who was technically kidnapped by a brunette hottie but NO!

I don't know who she was—but she's dead. Kill her off. Forget about her.

Okay.

Maybe I am still a dumb (smart) blond but that's not the point. My name's Sophie Foster, I've been reading minds since I was five and this is going to be one hell of a fucking rollercoaster.

Starting off with the reading minds thing: I don't know much about it either. What I do know, is that I fell unconscious one day and woke up in the hospital suddenly hearing what people were saying without them saying it.

Obviously, I was five and these bitches were loud as hell, I cried. Told the crumby doctors to quiet down but they didn't understand because they couldn't hear what I heard. When I tried to tell them what was going on, they just shrugged it off. They probably thought I had eight grader's syndrome (I can't blame them). So' I kept quiet about it after that which gets difficult sometimes.

Since I hear everything people are thinking, I learned a lot that the average kid probably should have no idea about. Example: Me telling my little sister, Amy, that Santa Claus isn't real. Mom and Dad weren't too excited about that.

Speaking of them it's really depressing to hear what your parents really think of you. Or is that just mine? Either way, I was "super smart" apparently so they wished I was "normal" and did "normal kid things".

But that didn't stop me from being a Bad Bitch.

Well...

Whatever, let's just start now.

I was forced to go on this field trip with my class to a museum. Yeah, I'm twelve and I'm a high school senior, I'm weird like that.

However, this is probably not the first place I would want to be. If I wanted to hear teenagers thinking about railing each other... Why would I want that?

So I have earbuds in, barely paying attention because this place is full of people and I can hear them all, when our annoying ass teacher came up with his nasel voice and yanked my earbuds out. "Miss Foster!" Talk about rude, what if it shorted? Who's getting grounded for that? 'Cause it SURE AS HELL AIN'T ME. Add to my problems, will you?

And, apparently, I'm too young to sue people? Bullshit.

Cutting in; I may have picked up some attitude and language throughout the years of hearing people but I'm a pretty decent human, I think. With pissy adults who've been done with the world for ten plus years raging in your head, you tend to pick up a few things. Such as ideals, ideas, morals and a shit-ton of expletives.

Don't even get me started on the second-hand trauma. I hate the world.

"Have you decided that you're too smart to pay attention to this information?" He's getting on my nerves a little. I have a kind of short fuse, okay?

"Yes, Mr. Sweeney," I said in an innocent voice. What do I look like? A little bitch baby?

Everyone's staring at me now but I don't really care. They all hate me. Might as well put on a show.

He was pissed to say the least and judging by his not-so-pure thoughts, he wanted to humiliate me. "Perhaps you can explain why you were listening to your iPod instead of following along?" he said, the venom in his voice apparent. He held up my earbuds like they were drugs, for me, though, I guess they are.

God obviously hates me but he did one thing to make my life easier, in a way. Photographic memory! Love that for me. Both a blessing and a curse.

That doesn't mean I like public speaking. Show some love to my anxiety! Very ironic since I got myself into this situation. I'm praying for the dinosaurs to come to life and start eating people. No? Fuck you, then.