Melissa Riley Is Suddenly Visible

Chapter Three

"Well . . . " Rose starts, not sounding very sure of herself, "it could be worse."

"How?!" I demand, running my hand through my hair furiously, earning no response from her. I rake my eyes over my essay once more, internally regretting ever writing the damn thing that went like this:

Since You Asked

          "This is by far the easiest paper I have ever written. I have the largest opinions on all of you, it isn’t even funny. I dislike basically all of you. Sorry.

          Now, where do I start? There is just so much to cover with only one essay. I think I will start with the “Jocks and Cheerleaders”. And, with all the love in my heart, you need to know, you are the worst, and do you know why? Of course you don’t, because everything that you do wrong you find funny. News flash, retards, being jerks to everyone to get what you want isn’t cool. Mocking somebody to no end is even worse, but in the end, you still loose. Eventually high school-and Mommy and Daddy's money- will end ,  and then what will you have?

          Another weird group: the nerds. No offense with the name, but hey, it’s a good word to describe you with. Sorry about that. You know, most of you are actually really nice and cool, but you try your hardest to keep everyone away from you. Open up, dress like normal people, stop judging the lower minded, and actually try to make friends. Trust me, it will work.

          And you know another weird group: The “Bad Boys”. Don’t get me wrong, I personally don’t mind, but not everyone is attracted to antisocial people that try to scare them, always succeeding. Tattoos are okay, but 60865 of them is a bit much. Swearing is okay, but dropping one every other word probably isn’t the best plan. I suppose smoking is okay, but have fun with cancer when you’re 40. Yup, I’m totally indifferent to you guys, I like the few of you that I have talked to, but I can’t say that I can speak for everybody in this horrible building.

          And lastly, I speak to my people, the “Middle Class” of this prison. I like basically all of you, you know, when you don’t ask dumb questions and you don’t piss me off. Which isn’t often, but hey, it’s great when it happens, isn’t it?

        So, yeah, there you go. But don’t get your hopes up, this is the censored version of what I would really like to say to you. If you do read this, no offense, it’s mostly non-personal to one person. Mostly."

I groan, realizing just how offensive it must be. I didn't totally aim to offend people, but I guess you could take it that way. My bad for being honest. I sit down at the kitchen table with Rose, regretting the moment when I know my Dad and step-mom will be getting home. This should be fun to explain.

"Yeah, it can't get much worse can it?" Rose says laughing a little, "But if you think about it, the situation is kinda funny."

I let out a light lsugh at my own expense, "It is kinda funny, isn't it?"

We laugh for a bit more, only calming down when my Dad walks though the front door. Rose and I both exchange a panicked look. 'I AM SO DEAD,' I think miserably. Damn, I knew this would happen some day. 

"What?" my Dad laughs at our epressions, "What did you do?"

"Um..." I trail off, "Just--read it for yourself," I say before shoving page four of the paper into his hands. He reads thorugh my article, his facial expressions changing depending on what part of the essay he is reading. But, when he is finished, instead of turning to me in anger, he lets out a laugh.