From the Other Side

On the outside

I wear make-up.

What?! It helps me keep a straight face! It helps when you're trying not to burst into tears.

I wear high heels.

It makes me feel like I can be strong. Besides, what else am I going to spend all my loose money on?

I wear all the latest fashions.

Well, I just like the feeling of new clothes.

I'm blonde.

If I was a brunette, do you think I'd seem smarter? My mum is blonde.

I wear everything pink.

I like to theme my life. Pink shows my feminism.

I attract guys.

I'm not joking when I say I'm not interested.

I'm AWESOME at everything.

My dad sends me to everything. So I do it well.

See? If only everybody would give me a chance to show it. Nobody does.

It's all on the outside:

"Alison, fabulous hair! Can I smell it?"

"Alison, can I come to your house?"

"Alison, can i have your autograph?"

"Alison, say cheese! You've won the award for Most Talented!"

"Alison, will you marry me?"

Alison, alison, Alison, ALISON!

If I changed my name, would you stop?

So I'd ignore them, walk hurridely to my locker, decorated by 'fans', check if I'm keeping a straight face. You know, what you call vanity.

Right, left, right goes the combination lock. I check if there are any flaws. None whatsoever, always.

But not today.

Pink Glitter flows out of my locker, covering me. I cough, sneeze and splutter, choking on the sparkly haze.

'AAARGH!'

My arms flail around for something, but alas! None. I fall down onto the hard concrete floor, a hot, glittery mess. I lie there defeated by the glitter monster, shocked, unable to breathe. I blow a strand of hair out of my face. I think I might cry. Come on, Alison! Be brave. Too late. I'm already brimming with tears.

There's a snicker midst the crowd that's formed, a high five here and there. I wipe glittery snot off my nose. Obviously the haters planned this. I don't understand. I haven't done anything to anyone, even when someone ripped up my tutor application. I was standing there, watching them do it. Why?

I try to get up, but slip on the glitter and fall back. Now I am streaming with tears.

But then the unexpected happened.

The crowd shifted and jostled, like someone was pushing through it. A tall, broad figure stood behind me. I could barely make anything out through my tears, mascara and glittery vision. Two hands grabbed my sides and lifted me straight off the floor. Then my feet touched the floor, except I was still being held up.

I tried to groggily stand, but ended up collapsing, legs kicking. That drained practically all my energy. Black spots swam in front of me,marring the glitter carpet.

"She's bleeding!", a velvety voice announced. That explained the red liquid running down the side of my face. Slightly sparkly, too. How much glitter was in my locker? Seriously?

Too bad I refused to let my parents to get me lawyers. I'm lying when I say I will sue you.