This Is Our Sweet Blasphemy

Never Giving In

I just wanted to say that the idea of 'Priest Andy' is by Electric_Revenge 's "S-I-N-I-S-I-N" Gerard Way/MCR fanfiction. [if you're an MCR fan you should check it out ;)] Thanks for reading !

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"Victoria!" I quickly turned my head to face a furious Mrs. Quibbles "Victoria I am sick and tired of you not paying attention in class!" Her face was as red as a tomato and she was talking particularly fast. She reminded me of a hamster, with her big cheeks and the way she went all in your face when she was mad. Even her name reminded me of a hamster. I decided that I would become rich and famous with a new brand of hamster food called Quibbles. The idea of me standing on a stage about to reveal the new bacon flavored Quibbles made me want to laugh, so I ended up smiling.

Let me tell you one thing: smiling is not the best thing to do in your teachers face when she's already sick and tired of you.

Mrs. Quibbles stood upright and her face went normal again, and that's when I knew my life was fucked. "Principal's Office. Now." She said, in a tone which reminded me of my mother's when she told me to go to my room and put up Jesus' Cross; I keep taking it down and it seems like my mom doesn't want to believe that I'm not catholic in any way.

Anyways, I guess I went pale (even more than I already am) because I heard some of my class mates snicker when I stood up to pack my things. Mrs. Quibbles opened the door and I head out of the classroom swinging my backpack over my shoulder. It wasn't the first time I've been sent to the principal's office, so I wasn't so surprised when Mrs. Quibbles came up to me, the only thing was that my mom had a conversation with me not so long ago that if I did one more thing major wrong, there would be major consequences.

I did plenty of 'wrong' stuff, such as sneaking out to go to concerts, not going to church, arriving late at night after a party (which I also snuck out to), et cetera... so I'm not exactly sure what my mom talks about when she says major wrong stuff since everything I do for her is wrong. Man, you should've seen her face when I dyed my hair blue and got snake bites. She snapped completely, telling me that she was going to send me to a military school in Brazil. I got a bit quiet after she said that though, because I knew she was capable of sending me away, hell, I think she's just waiting for a reason. I eventually took off the snake bites though; they were kinda annoying because they kept scraping against my teeth and gums and I read somewhere on the internet that it could lead to infections so I decided to take them off. The holes are almost closing; they're not quite there yet, but almost. My dad always nags me about it saying 'What lawyer would want a girl like you?' or 'doctor' in the place of lawyer, which is complete bullshit. Just because I have certain piercings (or had) and my hair is blue doesn't mean I'm worthless. I can still have the highest IQ in my class and end up rich and retired. Or of course I could end up fetching leftovers in Applebee's. Either way, my hair color doesn't define who I am.

I stood in front of the principal's office door and knocked lightly, the small plastic window, that was kinda useless in my opinion since it was always covered, vibrated with each knock. I heard a muffled "Come in" from the inside of the office and opened the door softly, it creaked a bit which made me cringe a little.

Principal Smith looked up from his computer, probably checking the new trouble-makers this year consisted of. He half smiled at me and casually said "Hello Victoria." I half smiled back and replied with a polite "Good morning Mr. Smith". He gestured for me to sit in one of the two old, worn out chairs. I sat down on the one on the right and looked at the papers he had scattered around his desk. I've been in here plenty times before, the principal and I were, well, I couldn't say we were 'friends' but we definitely had a better relationship than merely student/principal. The chair I was sitting in had holes on the right armrest from the numerous times I kept picking on it out of boredom; I started picking at it again and looked up to watch Mr. Smith in his natural habitat. I know most people picture principals like the old douche that wants to kill all joy in the school and make it the most boring pace to ever exist, but I didn't look at the man sitting across from me and think 'Damn he's one old douche'. Mr. Smiths must've been like me when he was my age, because he always had a soft-spot for me, every time he looked at me with those black eyes of his, I could just feel the connection between us.