Everyone has a dark side...some just know how to use it. Three different women with three different secrets, but secrets can only stay buried for so long...
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"I can't wait for the dance," I said sitting down at the table next to "my friends."
And when I say friends, what I really mean is, disguise. They disguise me when we all walk down the hallways laughing. They keep my darkness well hidden in the light of their pink, perkiness. My life is life a masked ball and I know all the right moves and all the dances.
"Do you think Matt will ask you, God he is so fucking gorgeous?" Amy asked.
Matt; new to the school but muscled his way to the top of the popularity charts as new quarterback and general all round hot jock. He's the kind of guy Hope would date. Oh, that's my name by the way.
Hope. Ironic, isn't it? I guess my mother chose it to be symbolic or something. Or maybe she chucked some names into a hat and plucked it out, who knows?
Hope Masters. That's the surname my mother chose for us. We've gone to great lengths to hide our real identities from the world and keep our families dirty little secret safely swept under the old rug. Of course, this involved moving states when I was young. Some name changes and so forth.
My internal monologues often find me talking about myself in the third person. I talk of Hope as being separate from me, and in most ways, she is. I couldn't be more different to Hope if I tried.
"Why don't you ask him?" Geraldine asked, giggling now.
Cue giggling. I smile and giggle and act coy. "You think I should?"
The others nod. "He's gonna say yes...who wouldn't." Amy adds with a little naughty twinkle in her eye.
Of course he's going to say yes. All under-sexed, over-masturbated teens boys would say yes, hoping I would say, "yes" too. My friends still think I'm a virgin. Got rid of that a long time ago. I've discovered it can be quite a handy tool in my line of work. It's a very desirable currency, one that can be traded and bought at will. Of course losing our virginity is all we can talk about at the moment, though. It's an 'age appropriate preoccupation', the psychology book on teen behavior said.
"Preoccupation with the opposite sex...Discovering and exploring their own sexuality." And if it's age appropriate, I have to be doing it. That's why I buy a lot of psychology books, to see what my kind is up to. And when I say 'kind', I mean humans. Because let's face it, I'm not really that human. Am I?
My friends have made all their plans for the dance; Geraldine is planning on losing her virginity after the dance. She wants it to be perfect. She and Anderson are checking into a hotel together, we're all covering for them and she wants it to be special. She wants roses and loving whispers and all that crap. But chances are it's going to be nothing like that. It's going to fall so short of all her expectations as Anderson hammers away and finishes quickly with the fucking finesse of a caveman in mating season.
Sometimes I envy them all- Hope included. Their lives are all so simple. There is nothing complicated about them. Go to school, do some cheerleading, family holidays, boyfriends, dressing up, buying clothes, having fun. The most stressful thing is deciding on which college to go to.
Today is Monday, and it's my worst day of the week. I have cheerleading practice after school, which I hate. I hate team sports and the idea of coordinated, synchronized movements with pom-poms and skirts literally makes me feel nauseous. It's got to be the cheesiest thing around, next to reality TV shows about wannabe celebrities, and people trying to fall in love in manufactured environments that shove romance down your throat like force-feeding a duck for foise gras.
I'm against any form of animal cruelty, by the way. Animals are the only truly innocent creatures on this planet. I wasn't one of those textbook psycho's that hurt animals and cut their little legs off just to listen to them squeal. No, I'm far more subtle than that. Besides, that is just downright disguising. If I could take out all the perpetrators of animal abuse, I would. But I have enough on my plate at the moment. My list has grown long, although the names on it are merely the tip of the iceberg, though. But I have found the time in between my main gig to maim a few animal abusers. It was very satisfying. But I can't let myself be distracted now, my list is what I need to focus. I managed to cross one of the names off my list last night. I smiled to myself just thinking about it.
I wonder what the police think of my little scene? I wonder what they will think of the disgusting little present I left behind for them- I hope the whole thing confuses the hell out of them. Our police force are lazy at the best of times, it's good to give them something to chew on. Keep them on their toes. Help them brush up on their skills. Do some real fucking detective work for a change.
I wonder who's investigating the case? I must check later. I have a shit load to do later actually.
