Toyed With

Prologue

I patted the gentle folds that had formed on my gown. The hat that blanced itself unevenly on my head, tipped over and fell and with a groan, I reached down to pick it up off the grassy threshold. I then stared straight ahead at the speaker, Mr Ralph who was talking about his personal experience when he was my age. On the podium, sitting not too far away, was the principal of my school - a bald guy with round spectacles. He was a rather boisterous man, with a round belly, short legs and almost no neck.

My eyes shifted from his stout demeanour to the left side of the massive lawn where the parents of the graduating students were seated in plastic chairs on the other side of the aisle. My eyes immediately met my mother's. She smiled and I returned the gesture, while she mouthed 'good luck' to me. I felt a small pang of hurt at the sad smile she gave me. She knows I'm fragile and she knows how much I hate this place. She knows why.

As the boring speech stretched from its expected time limit to even longer, a small yawn escaped my lips and I buried my face in my arms, waiting for the moment to arrive. Waiting for the time that I get to say goodbye to this damned place that I once called home.

To answer the questions that would've arrived - yes, I am at my graduation and contrary to popular belief, it isn't the most 'memorable' moment ever. I hate my school and that hasn't changed even on this stately occassion. The fact is, while most of the students around me are gnawing on their nails in anxiety and excitement, I'm breathing a sigh of relief. Why? Well, isn't that the picture-perfect question?

Ever since I turned thirteen, and ever since everyone became teenagers at my school, things just went downhill for me. Life turned from cheerful to horrible. People desired popularity to friendship, a status to humanity. I lost my friends the second I got my glasses because everyone assumed I was a pathetic nerd. The moment news floated that I'd got my braces, the most digusting jokes were made about me. Plain and simple: I was the joke of the school for a year.

And as if life decided that I hadn't gone through enough, I was smacked in the face by the devil's re-incarnation, Sandy Bellock. Quite literally.

Pretty, blonde and evil, Sandy made it a personal mission to bring everybody down while she reached the top. A fortunate few were spared of her deathly claws but the rest, never made it to see daylight. It probably sounds a little cliche, having the popular girl bully the nerd but trust me, the cliched girl does exist.

Sandy would never have met me had I not used the toilet on a solemn morning. Had I known what evil lurked behind those cheap wooden doors, my life would be a tad bit better. I remember the day fairly well. I'd come from psychology class and headed straight to the toilets to get my hair done since it was a complete mess after I'd assualted it under stress due to a test we'd had. I made my way to the sink, staring myself in the mirror and combing out the curls when a hand came out of no where and yanked the brush away. Turning on my heels, I met face to face with the girl I'd heard enough about. 

Sandy Bellock stood with her three cronies in front of the stalls, my pink-lavender brush in her pale hands. A smirk erupted on her face when she saw my angry look and before I could help it, I snapped at her. It wasn't the most mean comment ever heard but it was enough to piss her off. She advanced slowly and slowly until she was pushing me up against the sink. A dry smile on her face, she murmured something about watching my tongue and before I knew it, she grabbed my thick hair and dragged me to the nearest stall. Squirming and pushing and fighting, I was merely an ant in comparision to Sandy's tall frame. And before I could be helped, my head met with the dirty toilet water of my school. She pulled my head out of the water before my head plumetted into it for the second time and then the third time and the fourth time, until all of her cronies caught a picture and posted it on facebook.