LESSON ONE.

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(this story depicts self-harm, depression, relentless bullying, rumored/fake sexual assault and other possibly sensitive or harmful topics)

please consider your choices carefully and decide whether you feel comfortable continuing to read.

my therapist said hurt people hurt people, i don't think that applies to teenage girls.
-

being queer came with a predetermined fate, i was very aware of the fact that i would never be normal. little did i know my complications would run deeper than just the fact i liked girls.

i attended summer camp at 13. summer camp was a place i could go to escape the confines of the classroom i was in practically year-round.

a place to express myself, get away from the place that i feared so greatly. i was never fond of school-- well, i had revelled the workload. but the students who attended made the experience far from great.

so, i digress. i had really enjoyed summer camp.

but like everything in our lives, that was just transient bullshit.

the summer of 7th grade came crashing down on me like a decrescendo. a chorus of abysmal events that left me fragmented into a million pieces.

i thought she was someone i was going to spend the rest of my life with. the filament to my lacuna. or, the kim anderson to my stevie nicks. something like that.

and instead, she told everyone i held her down. assaulted her. the thrum of their insults rose above anything else.

rumors are detrimental, nobody understood the gravity of the situation.

after summer camp had drawn to a close, i figured the pain i felt would have vanished. but oh boy was i wrong.

i had spiraled into a fit of depression, my heart had shattered with grief.

their words were a posion, running through my blood. and there was no antidote to my misery.

rather than looking forward to break free from my stress, i felt dread. i couldn't possibly return to summer camp.

cutting myself became a coping mechanism. it didn't help, honestly. the anguish i experienced most days was double the guilt i felt afterwards. so the-- despite fleeting-- relief was enough.

and of course, my parents figured out. you can only wear so many hoodies in ninety degree heat until before they notice somethings up.

i was soon transferred to rehabilitation. i fluctuated between inpatient and outpatient treatment for years. and now, here i was, triumphantly beating my battle with depression.

but one thing never changed about me: i wanted to ruin that girl.

-

Oscar Winning Olivia Colman-- my lizard, peered at me from her cage. her gaze burned into my limp body, splayed out over my bed.

my laptop rested on the corner of my duvet, dead. i had spent the evening studying which schools would be optimal for me to attend.

thats when i saw her name in the weekly newspaper, and just like that i was a hawk set on my prey.

it felt like an eternity had passed before Melissa, my mother, grazed my doorhandle, gently wiggling the knob.

"Robin?" she called through the door,
her tone dull, "have you finally decided?"

i exhaled; tenatively responding,
"yes. come in."

my trepidations crept up my spine, sending tingles down my body. exhileration, though, rose above any other emotion.

Melissa walked in, "so?" she stared at me expectantly.

"Miami Beach."

"Miami? you could go to New york, Maine-- but you want to stay in Florida?"

i nodded firmly, beginning to feel the onset of delirium as my plan unfolded in my mind.

that bitch was going up in flames.

Melissa started at me for a heartbeat, her features curled back into a frown. she reluctantly nodded.

"Miami Beach has dorms on campus," i added, a small grin forming across my lips, "and theres a tennis camp this summer,"

her jaw clenched, twitching as she contemplated things. "fine, i'll go organize the paperworks to arrange that. prepare yourself."

'prepare yourself' was equivalent to a starter pistol popping at a track meet, i sprung into action.

haphazardly, i collected my belongings. very stereotypical lesbian attire, headphones, and my french horn-- enveloped in its tailored case.

the luggage sat in the corner of my room, i kicked back in my chair-- a throne, of sorts; and sighed, a fixity of determination swept over me like a monsoon.

Oscar Winning Olivia Colman stared at me, her beady eyes digging into my skin as i lounged.

it was time for revenge, baby.

-

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