Ivy

5| The Good Girl Dies

After I make my vow, I step out, head held high as I make my way to the afternoon classes. No use delaying the inevitable.

Speaking of which...

I think today is the perfect time to start changing.

With that thought in mind, I finish the day. Before I leave, I turn to look at the school. I take my time to analyze every inch of the imposing brick building. Today is Abigail's last day here.

I go home, and immediately start planning what to do, how to do it, and when. I search ways to get thinner, to change who Abigail is, and I find binge eating.

Easy enough.

So that is what I do.

For four weeks, I go to school, immune to taunts and jeers, knowing that they would get what was coming to them. I start binging, and I see the change every time I look in a mirror.

My shape, an hour glass, is more defined each time, my cheekbones more prominent, my face more angular. With every pound lost, Abigail dies, and something new takes her place, some one new.

I need a new name, one that would match my new identity perfectly, and it clicks. I would call myself Ivy, like the vine. It was, after all, quite appropriate. Ivy had choked out all evidence of Abigail.

My parents notice my sudden loss in weight, and even though they're worried, they say nothing, which is fine by me.

I've successfully completed phase one.

A week later after I've coined a new name for myself, I start phase two.

It's a Monday, and I decide to finally ditch the awful sweats that a have been hiding my figure from the students of my school.

Not anymore.

I pull out the leather mini skirt that I had bought a few weeks back. It isn't short to the point of $|µ++ish, skimming just under mid-thigh, loops of silver chain forming the belt. I pull on a tank top, and over that, a zip-up leather jacket, with loops of chain decorating it too.

I wear the emerald earrings, and the long silver chain with an emerald ivy leaf. I must appreciate my humour at times.

I've recently dyed my hair, and cut it in layers, and pull it up into a pony tail.

I grin at my reflection, and sling my bag over my shoulder. It isn't packed with books, like you may think.

In it, are clothes, four credit cards, a wad of cash and a Greyhound ticket. I run down to the study, glad that everyone has left.

My father, being the overprotective dad he is, bought a pistol, supposedly for when I got a boyfriend and he broke my heart.

I check the safety, and then the cartridge of bullets. It's full, and I take another, and stuff both in my bag within the clothes.

I then pull on my boots, and get in the car. I had wheedled my brother into lending me it for the morning.

The drive to school was uneventful, and I let the music of Fall Out Boy and Marina and the Diamonds. I run the whole plan over in my head, and I am sure that it's gonna work out just fine. Despite all my reassurances, my heart speeds up and sweat breaks out over my brow as I pull into the school's parking lot.

Through the tinted glass, I see the reactions as students take in the sleek beast that has entered their midst. I take pleasure in that, and even more when the get a glimpse of the driver. I have on my Maui Jim sunglasses, and I keep them on as I get out, my bag on my shoulder.

I ignore the wolf whistles and cat calls as I make my way into the main building. Everyone in the hall turns to watch me, and they part like the Red Sea before Moses. I make my way to my locker undisturbed, and for once, no one has a thing to say about me.

My plan doesn't come into action until lunch, when I spy the evil two and their clique leaving to go touch up their make-up. I am already stationed in one of the stalls, and I hear them as they come in.

Naturally, they are gossiping, but it's about me.

“Are you sure that's Abigail? I mean, come on!"

“That's Abigail. We haven't had any new students lately."

“Huh. Anyway, it doesn't matter. She looks like a whð®€."

I walk out of the stall, the gun clutched in my grip, and before anyone can move, it goes off three times, hitting one of the evil two and their two lackeys. Clarisse drops to the floor, backing away as I corner her.

“This is for all the hurt you made me feel. All the pain you caused. All the names you called me. It's called payback, ßï+©h. It's also called karma."

I fire the gun twice, hitting her squarely in the forehead.

I immediately stow the gun in my bag that lies nearby, and pull Clarisse near to me, pretending to cry. I scream, long and loud, and fake sobs spill from my lips.

The door slams open, and what seems like half of the school piles in. Two teachers approach me, and try to dislodge Clarisse from my iron grip.

“Come on, honey, she's dead...let her go," one says, pulling me up and away.

“Tell me what happened," she continues.

“I-I-I, I was i-in one of...of the stalls when I heard some...some one come in...and then, then I heard t-t-the gun g-g-go off and...and..." at this point I break into uncontrolled hysteria--fake one that is.

“Alright, sweetie, you go to the sick bay," she saw us, pushing me lightly. I nod, and make my way there, only, I walk past the wooden door, and out the glass front doors, out into the hot noonday sun.

After a quick glance at my watch, I have A few minutes before the guards are notified to keep everyone in and about twenty minutes before the Greyhound bus leaves.

I jump in the car and speed off..My plans are to ditch it at home, and take a Metro bus to the station.

I park the car in the garage, and quickly wash the blood off my hands in the sink. I ditched the clothes, opting for denim cutoffs, leaving the tank top on and pulling on a plaid shirt that I leave unbuttoned. Still filled with the high that my plan actually worked, I walked to the nearest Metro bus station, the bag containing the clothes, gun and everything else slung securely on my shoulder.

As I get on the bus, my heart beats quick time, and I wonder just how far I would get before I got caught.