Wicked

• o n e •

"Remember, one page essay stating why you would be a good asset to the the college of your choice due next Monday." Miss Phoebe said and then turned her attention to one particular student. "Zara, a word please?"

Not again. She groaned, the sound of reluctance reverberating very clearly to the ears of Miss Phoebe who ignored her small protest. She walked up to the front, not knowing what trouble she had gotten herself into this time but ready to take whatever punishment there was, if any.

"Zara, you're a wonderful student," Miss Phoebe started off. "Academically. You're grades for the past three years are above and beyond. However." Here it comes. "Your attendance, disciplinary reports, and your class participation is what's causing a downward spiral in your overall school performance. If you're planning on going to the commencement ceremony, I'm afraid you're going to have to try really hard to step up your game next year in order to attend."

Zara looked away and out the window, focusing on the branches swaying with the mellow autumn winds. She didn't care about the ceremony; it was just for show. Nor did she care about the excitement and grandeur of becoming a senior. It was amazing how students become so obsessed about experiencing and celebrating these right of passage school 'traditions'. All that mattered to Zara was getting her diploma and then moving as far away from this school and this city as possible.

"Do you understand me, Zara?" Miss Phoebe asked again more firmly.

"Can I go now?" She was impatient as ever. The only thing this little counseling session meant to her was another teacher trying to get inside her already fucked-up head and somehow, miraculously, try and get through to her. For a time, she went along with the whole ploy, but after a while it just became redundant and quite frankly; very annoying to listen to.

Miss Phoebe sighed, resigning in her attempt to talk to the girl and Zara took that as her cue to leave immediately. She walked down the hallways of the seventh floor, maneuvering her way past many students lingering around until their next class or just skipping in general.

Loser.
Slut.
How can you be rich and a freak?
Total spaz.
I heard she stole Mr. Landon's car keys and went joyriding.
Isn't she the girl who slept with Arthur last week?
Look, here comes the walking dead

Everyday it was the same, although sometimes if she was lucky, Zara would get a different variation of the same internal insult. Majority of the students here didn't have the courage to voice their opinions but Zara could always hear them. It never stopped. However, there was always the select few that were bold enough to tell it to her face like Ashlee Higgins who made it obvious how much she detested Zara.

"Hey Zoozoo," Ashlee called from behind. Zara rolled her eyes and turned to face the popular head cheerleader. "I was thinking about your brother today and kept thinking about how smooth and likable and popular he was here. Tell me, what did he get locked up for again?" Yeah, get upset you little bitch. Do something to get yourself expelled.

Zara knew that was always Ashlee's plan; to bait her into some kind of confrontation that would kick Zara out of the school. She could hear it in her head all the time, but that didn't stop the rage that was building inside which burned at her like acid. The image and sound of punching Ashlee seemed so simple, so quick to the mind. Her hands tingled slightly, ready to deliver the blow at any given chance but her logic blocked her impulses and she remembered the consequences.

Fuck it! She deserves it! She thought. She already hated the school and almost everyone else who went here so what was the point of restraining herself when this could be her free ticket out of this school for good?