arent I pretty?

prelude

dont panic.

that was the only thing going through my mind. I hated people, but for some reason, I care too much about what they say and do...I let it bother me too much. the chilling autumn breeze whooshed through the trees, making a rather unsettling sound as I trotted down the dark, wooded path to my school. the sky was clouded and the shadows of the trees had me wrapped in their embrace. it was these lone moments that I truly felt at peace... and they almost made the rest of my life worth while...

by the time I finaly made it into the doors of the school, it had been raining for about five minutes. I walked in, my clothes soaking wet. it couldnt be avoided...I didnt own an umbrella anyways...

I couldn't help but feel deeply impressed by the inner portion of the middle school. it was a fair size, a high ceiling, freshly painted walls, etc. nothing like my old school, where you had to be careful where you stepped if you didnt want to end up on a lower floor, or where you couldnt drink their water because the plumbing system was so wrecked and rusted. I felt a slight tug of hope inside...like I felt things might be different for me here.

but my moment of hopefulness was cut short but an intense shove to the ground. the force of my impact with the floor was absolutely skull shattering... I was dazed for a moment. my stunned body lay face down, on top of the hardcover books I had to carry by hand to school since I didnt have a bookbag. the sound of laughter began to echo throughout the halls.I cursed at myself for being so delicate... and then, the bell rang. everyone left in the blink of an eye. and I had no idea where to go.

...(after school)...

I slugged along the same, dark path...my clothes tattered...my books stolen...my spirit broken, for the hundredth time. the rain beat down hard on my head. I made it late to my first class EVER here, I thought. I managed to get an F in every class so far... and all the other girls made fun of me... just because I didnt have straight blonde hair, or big boobs...the ganged up on me... and beat me... and no one helped me...

suddenly, I...i felt something. deep inside me, this feeling...like something was trying to break free. my heart beat sped up and I had to take deep breaths. part me was scared, but the other side loved it...

I quickly snapped out of it and began walking a little faster. I forgot after a few moments and countinued my regular pace. my bruised and tired legs carried me to the end of the path. regardless of the worsening weather, I took my time walking across the back yard, up to the back door. I dragged myself inside, holding my head far from high.

I lived in a small, cottage like house, which my mother had managed to make reek of cigarette smoke in just two days. I made my way to the bottom of the steps. I was about to go up when I saw my mothers grey clad figure sitting in a rocking chair across the room. I debated wether or not I should say somethin to her...what have I got to loose?

"hi mommy." I said in a low, slightly concerned tone, trying to hide my disgust. she simply slid the cigarette out of her mouth and puffed some more smoke. after a while, I realized I wasnt getting an answer.

I climbed upstairs into my room, an empty low roof attic with a mattress. you would expect a daughter to want to tell her loving mother about how horrible her day was so they couldbtalk about it...but I had no such person to talk to. that woman wasnt a mother. shes just a bitch who pays the bills...sometimes.I flopped down on my "bed", wincing right afterwards.

"shit!"

I had forgotted about my beating today...I hurt the fresh bruises on my back. I got over it after a while though...I looked up to see the pictures of women pinned all over my walls. ms america, kim Kardashian, even some porn stars. all beautiful women people adored. the kind of beautiful woman I couldnt wait to be. people like girls like that...girls with cute faces and nice bodies. the kind of girl I wasnt...

after a moment I decided to get rid of them. I was getting myself depressed. I picked off all the thumb tacks and made a pile of the pictures, among them a photoshop of myself. I took an old pair of scissors and began to cut them up, but it wasnt until the seventh picture that I noticed I had been cutting of the limbs, hair and faces. I decided to stop and put them back together.

I...I took random parts and put them together, making a sort of...Frankenstein looking woman with blonde hair, and my face.

I was about to put on the left hand, the last piece, and then I looked at my own hand...it was lined up with the scissor at my wrist. I looked back down at the Frankenstein woman with my face...relative to me...she was beautiful. I gripped the scissors tighter. the feeling was back.

no...

what the hell was this feeling? what does it mean!?

my hands began to shake. I smiled at the picture.

no...why...?

ive always gotten this feeling but...not this strongly...

tears ran down my face...but my smile never faded...

after 13 years of judgment and being neglected...

13 YEARS...OF PAIN....AND CRUELTY...

SOMETHING FINALLY SNAPPED....

AND I TOOK GREAT PLEASURE...IN KILLING MY MOTHER THAT NIGHT... AND I WASNT STOPPING THERE...THERE WERE OTHERS TO TAKE CARE OF...AND I...WAS GOING TO BE BEAUTIFUL...

HELLO DARLINGS. THIS IS MORE OR LESS OF A PART ONE TO A LITTLE STORY IM WORKING ON. ITS MAIN PURPOSE IS TO SET THE MOOD AND TO INRODUCE THE CHARACTERS (who btw is Mona) AND TO CLEAR UP ANY CONFUSION WITH THE PLOT AND SETTING. HOW DO YOU FEEL ABOUT IT SO FAR? ALL COMMENTS ARE WELCOME. OH AND...PRESS THE FUCKING FOLLOW BUTTON.