It's Only Gossip

3

The door begins to creek open.

"What are you doing stop writing, it's PROMMM DAYY."

I am doomed I think before a bunch of strangers rush into my room with makeup, weird curly hair stick things and strange machines.

I sigh as I tell her "Fine"

Now I can't even escape the horrors of prom. Where else can I go dressed like a bridesmaid.

After they finish I look in the mirror. The reflection of a brunette with curly hair (a lot of volume) staring at me with her hazel eyes appears.

Here's the event that gives underage students the excuse to get drunk and jump on whoever they want: Prom. They think they're so cool, it makes me laugh. They all act as if they're so good looking but truth is, they're not even average. Maybe some of them are but oh my days it's always the ugly ones who think that they're good looking and they think that everybody wants them like please no, stop and go buy yourself a mirror.

I myself understand logic and rationality, as also being an underage student, I'd like to say I'm smart and act my age. I am most definitely not a wannabe.

If anybody even looks at my direction, I swear I will poison them somehow and I'll make sure it hurts more than Hell. I'll personally make a deal with the devil to get all the ingredients to make it taste like torture and torment. As well as peer pressuring the angels for a cure just so I can hold it right in front of their face, taunting the fact the cure is right in front of them. Then I'll spill the antidote on the floor as I whisper, "look at me, I dare you."

There's a red carpet for us to walk on. The school hired somebody to vacuum it, wow this must be how royalty feels like. Although, I'm pretty sure the red carpet lasts longer than three metres and wider than one metre.

"Levi, smile!" Er, my physics teacher.

She's funny. Doesn't she know that teenagers don't smile anymore? The straight face is the new pose for pictures. Way better than having to move my lips to pout. Wait... I don't want to be like everyone else, okay I shall smile.

"Pssht." Elisa hisses at me as if we're both snakes targeting the same prey.

My face immediately relaxes into a straight face as I roll my eyes. I grit, "what?"

For a moment I thought Elisa hesitated. That would've been something new, she never shows people hesitation. I know she's sensitive and all but she never shows it.

No. All these basic average people. I don't understand why I had to be a part of this. I'm not special or anything, I'm as basic as these lot but not this basic. Not as predictable and embarrassing to be wearing the exact same dress as Tanya!

Tanya, her style is perfection. The problem is, the outfits she wears can never be worn by others or else the other person will look like a complete idiot. She's stunning and known so basically that queen bee stereotype. Who does she think she is wearing the same dress as me? Actually, I don't care. I couldn't care less about this prom or this school or whatever. The only memory I have is... I'm not sure.

The theme was fairytale. Did they expect us to get dates? Princesses and princes? Do we look like nine years old wanting to be damsel in distress that get swept of our feet because a boy does one tiny favor for us? Please.

This was just an opportunity for everybody to create cheesy pickup lines such as "I think this glass shoe fits you, it's the perfect match like us." I don't understand how they could possibly 'pick up' somebody. Nothing says romance like your foot fitting in a glass slipper. A glass slipper that happens to have the shoe size of half the girls in our school so if they get rejected, they can pretend it was meant for somebody else. Not to mention that the glass slipper wasn't actually a glass slipper but their old school shoes.