Cecily the Spoilt College Bully

CHAPTER I: "Welcome to Castle Rock College"

I will tell you about the moment that brought me to where I am today. Where am I today? Look through my eyes and you'll see it: Cecily's feet. Those white, perfectly shaped feet. Now I am massaging her feet by the poolside of Cecily's house, not because I enjoy it, no, because I have no other choice.

It was ten months ago. We had moved to Castle Rock when my father got a job at an auto dealership after a long period of unemployment, and I had left my old school, which I loved, to go to Castle Rock College.

Castle Rock was a small town. You know those creepy American provinces in Stephen King novels; it looked like them. That's why I didn't leave our house much in the first days, and at school I usually didn't step out of the classroom. A strange fear gripped me. I've always been a timid girl. I didn't have much self-confidence. I didn't like myself. But I had never felt so insecure before.

At the end of my first week at school, I realised that this insecurity was not in vain. I was sitting alone at my desk in the classroom, reading a book to pass the time. There were five or six other people in the classroom with me. Then a silence fell and these people quickly left the classroom. I was trying to understand what was going on when three girls that I had not known before came in: One was a mixed-race girl of medium height. The other was short and had red hair. In the middle of the two of them stood Cecily, with her blonde, wavy hair down to her waist, a white crop top that showed off some of her impressive body, and a tennis skirt that showed off her smooth legs. Cecily.

Cecily leaned over the desk where I was sitting and stared at me. "You've been here a week," she said in a questioning tone, "but you haven't said hello to us."

Until that day I didn't know who Cecily was and what kind of person she was, so I couldn't understand her questioning and threatening behaviour. "I didn't know you," I replied, trying to hide the nervousness in my voice.

The girls next to her laughed and Cecily threw her head back and sighed. "Oh, these newcomers are never keen to find out! Haven't you ever wondered who is and isn't in this school?"

I shrugged. "I thought I'd get to know everyone in time."

"Well, it's about time," Cecily said and held out her hand for a handshake, "My name is Cecily."

"Naomi," I said and offered her my hand, but before my hand could meet Cecily's, she suddenly withdrew her hand. Before I knew what was happening, she slapped me hard on the cheek. "Welcome!" Cecily said cheerfully as the other two girls burst into laughter. What cheer was that?

Cecily grabbed me tightly by the chin as the red-haired girl went to lock the classroom door. I could barely move my face. "What are you doing?" was all I could say. "Shut up," the mixed-race one said. "I'm introducing myself to you," Cecily said, grinning, "because you didn't bother to get to know me. In this school, what I say and what I want happens. If I tell you to shut up, you shut up; if I tell you to talk, you talk. If I tell you to jump, you jump; if I tell you to crawl, you crawl. Otherwise I will make your life a living hell and believe me, it's easier for me than you think."

There were no bullies in my old school, but here one stood in front of me. My parents always taught me: Don't do anything that could get you in trouble. Nevertheless, I dared to push Cecily's hand away from my chin, which stunned her for a moment. But then she turned to her two friends and burst out laughing. "All right, Naomi," she said suggestively, and without a word she turned and walked out of the classroom with her wingmen. And on the threshold of the door she looked back at me one last time and smiled and said, "If you want to apologise to me tonight, you can get my phone number from any of your friends," she said, "If you have any friends!"

When I got home, I felt exhausted, the slap I had got from Cecily and her last words haunted me. When I entered the house, my mum greeted me. She looked very cheerful, but as soon as she looked at me, her face became anxious. "Are you okay?" she asked, "Your face is pale. You're not sick, are you?"