Alternative Rip
elsie's expression
Sonny was perfect in every way possible. Everything about it exuded confidence and if there was a hierarchy for beings labeled perfect, Sonny would be at the top crowned King. I’ve been in love with Sonny for two years. He (obviously) is so clueless because he’s too busy being in love with Remy.
Remy’s dead and I know Tammy thinks that it was me.
I wouldn’t go anywhere near her, even if it was to kill her. Christ, Remy’s a disease and I sure as hell wasn’t going to chance it. I don’t miss Remy. She lived for attention and she was a fucking whore. Remy didn’t deserve Sonny—she didn’t even deserve life and I for one am glad she’s gone. Sonny was too perfect for scum like Remy.
He walks so talk and might. Sonny’s sexy and kind. Remy’s a stupid fucking ghost and she’s haunting me. She’s always there. In my sleep, when I shower—I can’t get rid of her. She’s eating at my brain and slipping into my thoughts.
I don’t care anymore because soon Sonny will be mine and that stupid little cunt is going to watch him be mine.
❁
I first met Sonny in the fifth grade. Lauren Mathers was his girlfriend and I already didn’t like her. Not because she was dating Sonny but because she was too skinny and wore too much make up. Tammy hated her too so it wasn’t just me being an asshole.
Sonny was new to the school and within the first day he had a girlfriend. I hated him—I hated him with every fiber of my being. All of his perfection bugged me and I was jealous of him. Sonny was perfect from day one and I wasn’t even in the same neighbourhood.
He had clear skin in seventh grade when everyone else was breaking out and his voice matured before everyone else. I stared falling in love with him in freshman year.
The first time we had a real conversation, after I realized I loved him, was freshman year (second semester).
Sonny had been making out with his sixth girlfriend that year—the loser in me kept count. Her locker was beside mine and instead of them publicly fucking against hers they sprawled out in front of both of ours. She wasn’t even wearing a bra and I could see her mosquito bites through her shirt.
For the two minutes I stood there they didn’t even notice me waiting impatiently. She pushed him away and called me a creep. I called her a slut.
He laughed and gave me this intense look. I didn’t give a shit about Sonny then, so I told him to move his fucking ass and I shoved him away.
Sonny didn’t fight back. Sonny didn’t do anything—he walked on everyone and I’m sure I’ve got his footprints all over my body.
Remy’s dead and I know Tammy thinks that it was me.
I wouldn’t go anywhere near her, even if it was to kill her. Christ, Remy’s a disease and I sure as hell wasn’t going to chance it. I don’t miss Remy. She lived for attention and she was a fucking whore. Remy didn’t deserve Sonny—she didn’t even deserve life and I for one am glad she’s gone. Sonny was too perfect for scum like Remy.
He walks so talk and might. Sonny’s sexy and kind. Remy’s a stupid fucking ghost and she’s haunting me. She’s always there. In my sleep, when I shower—I can’t get rid of her. She’s eating at my brain and slipping into my thoughts.
I don’t care anymore because soon Sonny will be mine and that stupid little cunt is going to watch him be mine.
❁
I first met Sonny in the fifth grade. Lauren Mathers was his girlfriend and I already didn’t like her. Not because she was dating Sonny but because she was too skinny and wore too much make up. Tammy hated her too so it wasn’t just me being an asshole.
Sonny was new to the school and within the first day he had a girlfriend. I hated him—I hated him with every fiber of my being. All of his perfection bugged me and I was jealous of him. Sonny was perfect from day one and I wasn’t even in the same neighbourhood.
He had clear skin in seventh grade when everyone else was breaking out and his voice matured before everyone else. I stared falling in love with him in freshman year.
The first time we had a real conversation, after I realized I loved him, was freshman year (second semester).
Sonny had been making out with his sixth girlfriend that year—the loser in me kept count. Her locker was beside mine and instead of them publicly fucking against hers they sprawled out in front of both of ours. She wasn’t even wearing a bra and I could see her mosquito bites through her shirt.
For the two minutes I stood there they didn’t even notice me waiting impatiently. She pushed him away and called me a creep. I called her a slut.
He laughed and gave me this intense look. I didn’t give a shit about Sonny then, so I told him to move his fucking ass and I shoved him away.
Sonny didn’t fight back. Sonny didn’t do anything—he walked on everyone and I’m sure I’ve got his footprints all over my body.