A/N: Dedicated to
hammione ( her stories are goals)
hesitantwords( thanks for your support)
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She ran like never before. She ran as far as her dainty feet clad in ballet shoes could take her.
She looked back to find the polished marble building of her ballet studio looking back at her. Taunting her the simple fact that she has to return back in it.
Willingly or not.
She breathed in the fresh air the forest trees provided her. She opened her arms and smiled despite tasting the saltiness of her tears and the dampened surface of her tear stained cheeks.
The never ending woods before her, the vivid green pastures and the faint hum of the wild fauna around her gave her something she had always craved for.
Peace.
Something no amount of expensive dress brands, fake coaxing by her so called boyfriend and the judgemental glances shoved at her by the people could give her.
As if remembering the girls who bullied her back at the studio, she clenched her fist and let out a string of profanities.
Knowing she could never do it in front of them.
They claimed that she was the bully, just because she had blonde hair and happened to be beautiful.
Just because her boyfriend was the star quarterback and also happened to belong to a rich household.
Just like her own.
She let them define her by the lacy red dresses she was forced to wear to the black pumps her mother would force her foot in.
She took in the insults, the looks, the snickers and the leers passed by the boys.
And still, she is the bully.
"Oh the irony," she thought to herself.
People tend to stereotype a lot of people just by their looks. For the color of their hair or their eyes.
But they forgot even the renowned blonde vamp Regina George had her moments at the end.
But she was yet innocent.
She shook her head, erasing her thoughts.
She won't be weak.
She will not cry.
Nor give them the satisfaction of seeing her cry.
She looked down in confusion thinking how far she has moved away from the grassy moor that that blasted studio was covered with to the rocky side of the woods.
It was rocky and rough being covered with boulders and pebbles-something the visitors would always watch for, while crossing its edge.
She wrinkled her bare toes, thinking when she had opened her shoes.
She shrugged it off. She can find them later.
She looked down to go find the elevated surface of the cliff staring back at her. The plain downwards looked so serene.
With dark blue water flowing in the waterfall to the narrow strip of grasslands covering it's exterior boundaries
If someone were to jump into it, he or she could never be found again
They will be lost among the roaring waters. And get themselves buried in a watery grave where no one could taunt or force them to do things they don't want
They wouldn't have to bear hungry touches from ugly hearted, good looking cowards.
Nor hear the taunts of their indifferent mothers who care more about their L'Oreal make up kit rather than to know the reason why their daughter has been screaming in her room with the music on.
As if hypnotized, she moved back from the cliff.
She promised that she won't give up.
Because she is strong and this time she doesn't need anyone else to tell her that.
"Brittany?"
_
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The Blonde Bitch Syndrome
Teen Fiction[ O N G O I N G ] "They are blondes. They are bound to be bitches. Right? " - Previously known as "Pretty Faces". - Status: Raw Draft
