The Bad and Me

The Girl's Bathroom

I also kind of have these powers where I can extend my hearing in case I need to listen in to people’s conversations.  I can also transport myself from place to place with incredible speed I can’t even comprehend.  This basically means I could disappear from my current position and locate myself somewhere else in a blink of an eye.  However, today I chose to drive to school to at least appear normal and not make a fuss over myself on the first day.  I had to get to class soon or else I might make a bad impression on my fellow peers, some of which I might have to get close to, if they became “clients."

            I checked the map for the restroom nearest to the classroom and focused my mind hard on the picture until I was zipped away from this bathroom and into the one in the E building.  I ended up in another stall, which was a little more crammed at the sides.  I put my materials back in my backpack and pulled out my memory journal.  I didn’t see any “X’s” traveling on the lines of direction quite yet and the usual “L” (standing for Lisa) marking my location stood at the bottom of the page.  

            I start to walk out of the stall, not realizing a group of rich girls, whom were all extremely beautiful, surrounded me.  I felt like a stale noodle that wasn’t quiet cooked yet or ready for the bowl called school.  

            “Who is she?” “Why is she dressed in a uniform that looks like rags?” “Does she even go to this school?” All this chatter was making me sick.  I felt like screaming in their faces.  I wondered what this year was going to be like and how I was ever going to manage to help people when they were mostly brats.  

            “Sorry for intruding in on your little ceremony,”  I snickered to their annoyed pretty faces.  

            “We’re just sorry you look so unfortunately unattractive,”  one of the blond curly haired girls snarled.  I rolled my eyes at her, not caring what she had to say, because if I did my job would never get done.  An idea clicked into my head.  

            “OMG is that a gray hair I see in your curl?” I digressed.  She ran to the mirror to check her bouncy locks regarding my false accusation of her early aging.  

            “WHAT??!! Where?! OMG! I can totally see it! I can’t be that old!” she barked.  Of course I was joking about the gray hair, but she was too dumb and self-centered to realize that.  

            “Oh well, I have to go class 'cause I don’t wanna be late for my first day, ladies,”  I jeered at their baffled faces. 

             I didn’t feel good about the actions I’d chosen, but I couldn’t take one more second of their criticism.  

I turned right out of the restroom and continued down the hallway, watching the numbers go up on the classroom doors.