Revenge, the final cut

Chapter 8

' Look at what Emma is wearing !'

' I know right ! She is so flawless  !'

That is what I hear all day, everyday.

And then I'd just try to blend in, and say : ' Yea I know her, we used to hang'.

When ever I dropped that bomb, I would be welcomed with screams of excitement, disbelief and a little suspicion.
I couldn't blame anyone for that reaction. If I looked at the situation from a perspective other than my own, I could understand their skepticism. Emma was a goddess in a sea of mortals, a peacock amidst pigeons. At least, in the eyes of most.

It's insane how much she has changed over the last few years, she went from  a shy girl who no one had heard of, to a name with a reputation to uphold.

But some people found it even more insane that we used to be friends .

I cut myself a thousand times before I gave up hope that we would ever be the friends we once were. And after hope there is no time to let sad feeling consume you.

I went from hope right to revenge.

So today was monday, my favorite day.

Weird, a lot of people thought, but I liked mondays. Mondays were new beginnings, people would forget what stupid stunts you had pulled Friday and just give you a new start.

In a way.

That morning I left school as fast as I could and walked to the busstop. I never really got why people checked their phones so often but now that  finally I had someone to text, I could not take my eyes of that tiny screen.

Eventhough the only person I was texting was John, I was stuck to that little metal box.

I usually sit in the back seat, of the already rather empty bus and look at my cuts and if needed make a new one.

I'd just imagine what life would be like if things had not changed.

But now, I know my scars, there is no need to look at them.

I dont imagine things, I make them reality.

Well, from now on.

I kept on texting Jake, and the question he kept on asking was : why?

Why would I do this?

I did not what his sympathy or him loating me so I kept my mouth shut, and besides, he would think I was a nutjob.

So after a while, that seemed shorter than usual, I got out of the bus and started walking the last few meters to school. It was foggy and as I walked over the football fields to the back entrance I felt my feet get wet.

' Cheap shoes' I mumbled as I tried to kick the water of. To no effect obviously.
I had never had expenisve clothes, neither did I long for them. However this was the first time I noticed that things could be easier for those with that luxury. Money gives you a certain type of freedom, but that right wouldn't exist without those who don't have it.

I was early, as usual , and walked to a little back door to the left of the entrancy, in a dead end hallway where I always hung my coat and got out my planner.

' English' I signed.

I looked at my watch and walked to the bathroom, I had 15 minutes left and as I walked, keeping my head down, I bumped into some freshman , desperate not to miss their classes.

I looked terrible, like always and despised my hair and eyes, the first things people usually noticed about someone.

Something I learned in my psygology class. My favorite.