He's a Devilish Cunt

Chapter 3: Doppelganger

Chapter 3: Doppelganger

Coughing ang panting like a dying horse, I run like hell, hoping I’d catch class before first period starts. Stupid alarm clocks, not working... Ugh. It was the alarm clock’s fault I’m gonna be late today. Since the building was lodged deep in the middle of the darn campus, the vehicles where students had gotten on would have to park outside the main gates. They say it’s also a way to thoroughly check if all students have been following school policies like, proper uniform, socks, IDs and the like. When I got here in the morning, I even saw a couple of crumple-faced kids outside, like they were cursing the guard.

          Poor guy. Ways of the world.

          As I came across three gay buddies, I stop midway and catch my running breath. I feel like I joined a stupid marathon somewhere. Jeez. Talk about stupid rules and regulations. People don’t even follow those conditions. And honestly, it’s just plain stupid. People breaking rules should have penal repercussions for doing so.

          Reaching the entrance, I slid my bag off my arm and drop it on the ground. My enthusiam for having reached school with at least five minutes to spare gave me an outburst of joy and victory that I couldn’t help but exclaim, “Praise the heavens!” I inwardly kneel, still panting, but now with joy evident on my sweaty face (I could feel it dripping down the sides).

          “Too early for celebrating,” Someone behind me suddenly says, making me gasp in shock before turning to see his face.

          I point angrily and accusingly at his face. “You again!”

          His eyebrow shot skyway. “What about me?”

          “You bogous, fat, incompetent piece of—” Censored. I continue cursing him like he was the worst person I’ve known that ever stepped foot on planet earth! Because he is! If he wasn’t as mean as he was at the Christmas Special, I would’ve reconsidered! But he was! And it was awful! His eyebrows shot up again, undermining me like I was the dumbest person ever.

          “What got you mad about?” He doesn’t know? Seriously?

          At that, my insides flip in utter annoyance and I stomp towards him, showing him just how angry I am. “YOU! YOU ARE WHAT’S MAKING ME MAD!”

          “Like a gorilla.” He says flatly. It just made my patience pop in bits and pieces.

          “At least I don’t look like one!” Was the smartest comeback I came up with! Ha! What’ya got now?

          Out from nowhere, someone was running towards us. When he reached almost five feet, he screams, “WHOO! BURN!” What?

          Then suddenly, a crowd bustled over, then there was a chorus of, “FIGHT, FIGHT, FIGHT!” filling the whole place.

          Oh jeez. I hope I can make a run for it.

          I snatch my backpack off the ground and run for my dear life. As I do so, someone screams after, “Hey, what the heck! Wait!” It was the fatness, in his most worried tone that I’ve ever heard.

—

Okay, what happened just a few moments ago, I assure myself and everyone else, will never happen again. I swear to the source of all fatness. Because firstly, that was humiliating! Second, that was stupidity and air headedness there, exploding in the atmosphere! And I’m never gonna let that happen again! EVER!

          I let out an exasperated sigh and throw my hands in the air. A reaction to extreme embarrassment. Well for others, it’s not, but for me, it is. I don’t handle crowds very well, and frankly, I’m not that much of a socializer. I do talk, it’s just that I don’t do it often. I resist the sudden urge to pull at my own hair too. Damn it, that fatness better make a run for it while he can, because I don’t forgive easily.