Short Stories

Recollections of Being the Group's Clown

Some people live off of music, food, or rather illegal substances, but I live off of my friends. My friends have been the center of my life since I could remember; I can't live without them. I have been in three different cities throughout my life, but no matter where I am, friends are what keep me going. I met my most valuable friends in the wonderful town of Georgetown, where everything seemed to fall into place perfectly.

For better or for worse.

It was the dreaded seating switch-up day in Social Studies, and the whole class was standing against the back wall, awaiting their doom. I knew this was to get the students of Benold Middle School to get to know each other and create a "friendly", "loving" environment, but it only made things worse. If a popular girl was placed by a lesser, social commoner of the clique food chain there will be possible suicidal thoughts.

And not from the queen bee of the school.

Furthermore, mind you this was in the 6th grade, and everyone was going through that awkward stage. You know, that awkward stage. The stage where no one is the same anymore, and you know you can't be the same (as the social rules of middle school clearly state), therefore everyone branches out to try different cliques. So I found myself sandwiched between two skaters that had recently dyed their hair and were pulling at their skintight shirts that were all the rage at the time. "Watch out, I'm a ninja!" read the shirt of the girl on the right of me, while the girl on my left picked at her chipping Vampire Black nail polish.

As for me, I was in choir- along with the rest of the cool girls in the school. So of course I was slowly trying to convert myself to become the model my family had always claimed me to be, but it wasn't going so well, and it was making me a judgmental jerk in the process. Which honestly, made no sense: I was being completely hypocritical. Just a week ago I myself was being bullied for being a, and I quote, "loser". I would never actually bring myself to bully someone though, but who knows. If I was brainwashed enough, anything could happen. Thankfully Mrs. Bencivenga sparked the beginning of my cleansing by making me sit by a quiet, curly haired, band-nerd adorned in a big t-shirt from the boy's department and matching basketball shorts. Her name was Laura.

I was very reluctant to sit by her at the time, and refused to even look her way. What if the Pops found out I was chatting with some nerd like her? The Populars seem to have x-ray vision and radar antennas implanted in their bedazzled headbands; they find out everything. Needless to say, we hit it off after a few weeks of insulting each other's handwriting. And what was even better was that she was actually an acquaintance of my best friend since elementary school: Katarina. They were in band together, and apparently they had this whole band nerd clique going on. Not that I would know. Since middle school started I was sitting miserably at the cool kid table, munching on my lunch quietly, trying to laugh on queue with everyone else.

It was horrible. No one would talk to me.

So, after a few weeks of coaxing from Laura and Katarina, I was forced and removed from table against my own will. And then there we have it; that's where it all began. I was the lone twiggy choir girl at the table full of band nerds. I was also on average a head taller than everyone else, which made me stick out like a sore thumb even more. This seemed to please them, and soon initiated me being promoted to the group's punching bag.

I was weak and despite me trying to be one of the Populars, I was actually quite the kind young girl. I was also beyond shy and innocent, which seemed to make me even more of a target. In health class Laura, Kat, and Shelby (another fellow band member) purposely flocked around me to watch my horrified (and sometimes tearful) expressions while the movie played. I was officially scarred by the secrets of the male anatomy, and they clearly enjoyed that.