Black Webs

Paint The Town Red & Blue

o n e:

L y d i a

Lydia admired her reflection in the bathroom's full-length mirror, fabricated to perfection; or at least as near to it as the human appearance ever got. She broke into a diamond grin, only to notice that there was cherry lipstick imprinted on her two front teeth, she quickly rolled her tongue over them to wipe off the stain.

Must look fabulous at all times. It was something she told herself to get through the day. Lydia had always felt better when she looked better, ever since she was a little girl, her mother would dress her up all pretty in satin gowns and pink posies.

It had always made her feel like a princess from one of the countless fairytales her parents used to read to her when she was young.

When she was finally satisfied, she took a step back and patted down the beige mini-skirt she was wearing, to get rid of a humiliating crease in the fabric. She looked to be on point. Her eye-shadow glimmered something gold, like powdered sunlight.

Her cheeks were rosy as ever, and the classic red of her plump lips complimented the stark emerald of her eyes. Her strawberry blonde locks had been carefully weaved into a crown braid, and to any passer bys; Lydia was the picture of poise and confidence.

Only Lydia could see the deep seated imperfections embedded in her features: the shadows under her eyes she covered up with an abundance of concealer, the fading scar just under her chin that she'd earned when she'd fallen off her bicycle when she was seven and had to get stitches, the pallid hue of her skin that she veiled with all the blush, even the pumps she wore to make herself feel better about her midget-like height.

The bell sounded out, loud and buzzing, jarring Lydia out of her contemplation.

"Come on, Lydia," she mumbled to herself under her breath. "Time to play Ice Queen."

She stalked out of the bathroom, chin up, eyes shining, and heels clanking - all the way to first period. Lydia didn't mean to act like a complete bitch, but she'd learned a long time ago the ways of the world, she knew that playing nice never got nobody anywhere.

Lydia played dumb with the boys because that's how girls got the things they wanted these days, by pretending to be inferior and stupid. Lydia pretended to be the gossip queen when it came to girls because whether or not that was what she truly was, the girls that surrounded her were already passing judgments about her.

It was okay, though, she'd become an expert at fooling the world. Her facade was indestructible. Lydia pushed past the thronging crowds of the seemingly never-ending school hallway as she made her way to AP History. The teacher hadn't arrived yet, and most of her peers were already here, staring impatiently at the big, red clock above the whiteboard, perhaps praying for the fifteen-minute rule.

Lydia saw that some mousy looking brunette with fat glasses was perched on her desk. All Lydia had to do was clear her throat and shoot the poor girl a look and she was already stumbling out of her seat, racing to lift up all her belongings in both arms rather clumsily; before hurrying towards the back of the class.

Lydia was so used to treating people like this that it quite frankly didn't even bother her as much anymore. She simply shrugged and took a seat, leaning over to pull out a pink ink pen with fluffy feathers at the top and her notepad.

Lydia had been doodling subconsciously when their teacher, Ms. Valentine, strolled in. The lady was clad in a black jumpsuit, with her frizzy dark hair tied into a hopeless bun, she was chewing irritably at the back of a pencil and her tiny glasses looked as if they were about to fall off the bridge of her nose.