Monophobia (noun); Abnormal fear of being alone
"I am little pieces
of everyone
I have met
but I cherish
the most the parts that were yours."
// - Beau Taplin // Little Pieces
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Margret tapped her wooden pencil against the desk. Mr. Greene was going over last week's pop quiz and almost everyone failed but Ben Hanscon and Margret. In her little group of friends, Margret was teased a lot for knowing such big words and always being seen with at least a novel in her hand but when someone like Henry Bowers teased her about it, Bill was the first to stand up for her and taking the tease from her.
Margret distinctly remembered Bill saying he was going to kick Bowers' ass if he called her an intellectual bitch. Richie piped up and said,' That's right. You're no one's emotional geek but ours and Bill will teach him a lesson about calling you a bitch even if you act like one sometimes."
"Hey Marge," Richie quietly yelled. Mr. Greene spoke loud but it wasn't hard to hear his voice since their desks connected with Stan between them. "You still coming with us to Bill's to play monopoly? I call being the banker."
"Sorry boys, my crazy bitch of an aunt is in town," Margret sighed. "Mom wants me to introduce her to Teddy when he comes home from soccer practice." The siblings hated their family, especially their Aunt Linda. She was this crazy lady with tons of makeup on, takes drugs to please herself, and sleeps with old creepy men. Mom was just a workaholic and maybe, if they were lucky, partied at night so they could sneak to Bill's house and have a sleepover.
"Ha, that easy baked potato doesn't know what's gonna hit her orange ass." Richie snickered. "I'll be in charge of mixing glue with toothpaste, then."
"I am not participating this time because I don't want your scary mother to scream at us again like last time, sorry guys."
The bell finally rung after another twenty minutes of Mr. Greene's lecture of plants actually having feeling (it was a social studies class) and the there's continuous snickers and jokes. Margret swung her bag over her shoulder and waved at the two boys. "Where you going, Marge?"
"Where the fuck does it look like?" Margret rolled her eyes stupidly at Stan's stupid question. "My locker then the bathroom. I gotta take a piss."
"Yeah, Stan!" Richie mocked. "I gotta take a piss!" Stan rolled his eyes and glanced down at the girl. She was five foot and she was the shortest student in school, so almost everyone teased her about her height. "We'll meet you outside then."
"Try not to run into Bowers, Marge. These bad boys won't be able to protect you from that hairy ass cocksucker."
This time, Stan chuckled and Margret rolled her eyes. "Alright dickweed, I hope I don't get to separate you and Bowers before he pulls out your fake teeth or you ripping his greasy mullet hair." Richie's eyes widened at the response and opened to argue back but Margret was already down the hall, running to her locker.
The metallic cubicle was small and could barely fit half of her books, not even her gym clothes or Rachel Evan's disgusting odor of shoes. Margret was glad she didn't have to hear another news of A - Ha's latest song or how gorgeous Morten Harket was with Rachel's friends. She was glad she didn't have to hear another gossip story of how Lucas Hill looked their way.
