I'M NOT THE SINISTER TYPE | HEATHERS FANFIC

The Pressures Of A Teenage Bitch

Now Playing: Mentally Not Here - Elita
┊ ⇄ ◁◁ II ▷▷ ↻ ┊

At the ripe age of 9, I stood at the edge of the playground, watching the other kids run and laugh. My mama tugged on my hand, urging me to join in, but I couldn't understand why she insisted on bringing me here. My face scrunched up in confusion, I asked, "Why?" Her voice was tired as she replied, "Just go play, Y/n." She gently nudged me forward, pushing past her own exhaustion. It felt like any further resistance from me would cause her to break.

I didn't want to deal with that, but I also didn't want to talk to those kids. However, I imagined if I did what I was told, then I'd be able to go home sooner. So I started walking over to the cluster of children.

I remember they were about to play tag, they were discussing among themselves trying to pick who was it. I approached a boy, he seemed to be the one who was the loudest and in turn the appointed leader. I asked if I could join abruptly, causing the other kids to cut their chatter and glance at me. I ignored them, simply staring at the boy in front of me.

He stared back for a moment before he shoved me by the shoulder. I stumbled and crashed onto the dirt floor, feeling a surge of humiliation and rage engulf me. My cheeks burned with fury as my eyes stayed fixed on my dirty hands, now covered in grime from the impact. The same boy's voice seemed to taunt me with his obnoxious proclamation, "TAG YOU'RE IT!" Laughter erupted all around from the other kids as they scattered like frightened animals. Despite my efforts to remember Mama's lessons on forgiveness and understanding, my vision was clouded by a fit of seething anger. As I rose to my feet and wiped the filth off my ripped pants, I locked my gaze on the boy darting away.

He glanced back over his shoulder, a smirk playing on his lips as he saw me gaining on him. His confidence wavered for a split second.

The playground blurred around us as we raced around the playground, ducking under swings and leaping over benches, but I was relentless in my pursuit. I could hear my own ragged breaths mixing with his panicked gasps as he realized I was closing in.

As soon as I saw him within my reach, I launched myself towards him. Our collision was so powerful that we both ended up rolling onto the grass, and I heard him let out a yelp. I blocked out any other noises from outside, solely focused on the boy's frantic breaths. He realized that I was angry and started squirming, a mix of fear and anger in his movements. This only fueled my rage even more; he was moving too much. With a firm grip on his collar, I lifted him up slightly before slamming him back down onto the grass. The commotion had drawn the attention of several kids who came running to see what was happening. The boy began to cry, but my face remained stoic as I simply stared at him.

"You're it."

-

"Move it, pig!"