Make Me

»annoyance

I hate school. Stop fucking looking at me. Why are you touching me. Stop talking to me. Ew go away. Why are you making out right in front of me, get a room.

Those thoughts were playing in my head over and over when I was crossing my school's hallway. Being a background is actually harder then you think. Because you should get good grades, which is hard because schools just sometimes want to steal my sleeping time and make me study till 2 am. You shouldn't date, because of you date then you'll get attention. And since I was just a little kid I hated attention. Attention is when you like having people stare at you and you want more of it. You are the lion, the top of your chart, and they are the zebras, the normals, who are scared of you but in the same time admire how graceful and pretty you are. I am not a lion, neither am I a zebra. I am a person. Who doesn't give a shit about being famous in school or admiring how barbies' fake faces are 'flawless'.

   Someone pushed me in the lockers, knocking the air out of me. But I am used to it. If I wanted to be the background then I should go through all of this, and in the end, I'll be the only one who'll still be wise instead of making out with some guy who lost his virginity when he was 14. I got up from the lockers and put my hand on my sore head, already feeling the bump. I sighed and slowly walked walked away from the metal blue lockers, realizing that the damn bell already rang the second time and I am late to my geometry class. As usual.

***

   "Allison! Stop fucking walking so fast, you know that anything with the word 'fast' doesn't register in my brain." I whined to my tall and graceful hoe.

   "Well, stop whining and just catch up because  I don't want to be late to my date with my Scottie boy." Allison blushed and dreamily smiled. Allison and Scott met each other in the first year of high school and since that time, they are dating. I always thought that dating is such a waste of time. You have the most amazing months of your life, being with a person you trusted and loved makes you feel like you'll marry him and live happily ever after. It's not like that in real life, the person you gave your heart to breaks it. Not even caring. The person leaves you with all those broken pieces in front of you in the dark room filled with cold words and knives that try to kill you every time you try to be happy or just breathe. Dating is the route to suicide.

"Hey, Lyds is everything okay?" Allison nudged me, and I shake my head, trying to get those thoughts away from my mind.

"Yeah I am. I was just thinking about something." I smiled at her, Allison was like a beautiful rose filled with colors and this sweet aroma whenever you are near her. But roses have spikes also. If somebody makes Allison mad, she'll close up and put out her spikes for a shield, because she doesn't feel safe anymore but she doesn't show it. Allison Argent is the most badass and bravest person I have ever met.

I smile at her and she smiles back at me, and she suddenly hugs me knowing that I need it right now. School is like a small room filled with many bad surprises that can almost kill you. If you step on the wrong tile, then you are dead, kaput. I hug Allison back tightly, her sweet perfume enters my noses and I inhale the smell. When I finally calm down I smile gratefully at her and she gives me the same smile.

"Oh, Lydia, he is here. Ok do I look good? Do I smell bad? It's a bad hair day for me, shit." Allison pushes the wrinkles from her black shirt and tries to keep her hair straight.

"Your hair is perfect Allison don't touch it." I say as I slap her hand away.

"Ouch-ok-oh my god. He looks so hot, just look at him." The girl smiled and waved at her boyfriend. Scott finally noticed his girlfriend and walked up to them, smiling dreamily at Allison. When he reached us, he picked up from the ground and kissed her. I could hear him saying some dirty stuff they'll do in the evening and I roll my eyes, but I was still smiling, happy for my best friend finding someone like Scott.