Iris

Life is Being Recruited

it's happened,

it's begun.

set in motion,

the gears; turning and working,

the plan conjured and churning.

setting in place,

the truth to be seen,

by the far eyes of the unseen.

School. Cue the mega eye-rolls and mellodrama. I wonder what it would be like if people actually treated everyone with respect and kindness, both to their faces and back. Damn, I can't imagine it. It's too far from the truth.

I lift my head up which I've been resting on my crossed arms that lay on my desk in front of me. The teacher still droning on and on about the way in which you find an asymptote and locate the x and y intercepts in order to sketch a truncus bla bla bla.

Looking away from all the mathematics that left me brain dead not even two minutes into the session, I look at the clock and notice the periods nearly over. Hallelujah; I will be able to escape from the holds of hell in three minutes. Now, to wait a century for the red hand of the seconds to go around in its full rotation three times.

Just before I rest my head once again to wait out the next few minutes, I catch sight of none other than the queen of bitches, formerly known as Gabriela. Oh how blessed I find myself to be starting back at the vengeful, angry, twisted, beautifully bitch-faced  female who was never graced with the priviledge of having anyone teach her proper courtesy or manners. I can't blame her if no one ever told her its rude to grouch at people, or that it could lead to early wrinkles. Tut tut, poor child.

I smile at her as sweetly as possible, and give her my loving middle finger.

Ignoring her outraged face, I rest my head and think of happy thoughts- delicious food and winning fist fights.

--

As I make my way to my locker so I can grab my bag and head home for the day I come across a horrifying scene. Gabriela. Standing in front of my locker. With her arms on her hips and her stance wide. And, oh my Lord, God forbid she look any scarier, she has her grouch on high beam.

Honestly? I have the urge to burst out laughing. This asshat thinks I'm gonna take shit from someone who's own life goal is to order people around and ostracize them. Hell no.

"Why, hello there Gabriela, how can I be of assistance to you today?" I ask snarkily, stopping a metre in front of her and crossing my arms.

"Cut the shit Talia. You're not funny, even though you try so hard to be," she says all brattily, waving an exaggerated hand around.

I have a very strong urge to snap my fingers in a Z and tell her to shove off and stop being an upright bitch, but my mother taught to have this thing called maturity.

"Oh dear Gabriella, I know its hard for you to understand intellectual jokes, which makes you feel  a bit.. discluded and unsteady at times, but that's no reason for you to lash out. We can all understand the bliss that comes with ignorance," I say soothingly.

"Wh- , B-, UGH! That's not why I'm here bitch. I'm just here to say that you should watch yourself. I don't need more than your name to make your life hell. You'll be sure to regret that you ever messed with me. I can make everyone hate you and better yet, I can even make you hate yourself," she seeths.

"Hold up hunny. This is where I tell you to stop and give you a reality check. I don't give a shit- wait no- I don't give two shits about whatever the hell you and all the people you could possibly be acquainted with think about me, because guess what? I pride myself in not caring about the opinions of people that only know how to talk shit because they have their heads so far up their asses."