Status: Anus.
Pull Out My Insides
Zara Alisa Randall
A low sigh escapes the prison of my silent lips as I plop down onto my seat in my first period class, Honors English. God, I fucking hate Mondays. Nothing good comes on a Monday. Only a cruel reminder of whom I am—what I am. Alone, hated, an outcast, etcetera. But of course, like everything else in this shit hole that I call a school, nothing makes sense. There are people just like me—they’re just too stuck up to actually be themselves and others are too scared to invite me into their little pathetic circles. It wasn’t always like this, though; things used to be different. Let me start at the beginning. My name is Zara Alisa (not like Alyssa, like Lisa with an A before it) Randall and I’m 17 years old, a junior in high school. I have red hair that is actually naturally dark brown that I dye, I have dark green eyes, and I’m a little on the short side. As you may find so hard to believe, I have not one friend at all. Yeah, I bet that it’s just so hard to believe seeing as I’m very pessimistic, sometimes cynical, smarter than most people in my whole school, and a bitch to mostly everyone I talk to unless they earn my respect; so far no one has earned my respect. Back when I was young and naïve, I was friends with the most popular girl in school, Neva Cayleigh Bradshaw.
We were the dynamic duo, running around wantonly and causing havoc around our shared neighborhood. She was always the beautiful, perfect child while I was the kooky, chubby, strange child; needless to say, we were the best of friends with our contradictory personalities. Just like a cliché, everything changed when we got into middle school. She started hanging out with girls like Suzanna and Buffy. Also needless to say, Suzanna and Buffy are soulless, heartless whores who get enjoyment out of making others suffer and kicking puppies. The once innocent, sweet Neva was turned into another soulless bitch that just stabbed me in the back countless times to satisfy her and her friends’ needs. Most likely the best time that she supplied me with an example is when she invited me to a party, to which I reluctantly went, just to dump a bunch of shit mixed together (like syrup and pig’s blood) on me and embarrass me in front of the whole school. Hell, she even got it on video.
Now, I wasn’t one of those who was abused and shit by their parents. I didn’t have a horrible upbringing, but I also wasn’t spoiled rotten like most people that attend my school. My parents took my camping and taught me the value of a dollar and how to do things like cook and take care of myself. I have an older brother that I’m really close to and an older sister than we barely keep in touch with. When I was a child, I always used to have friends around me. But that changed when Neva turned to the dark side and spread a bunch of rumors that I can’t believe that the moronic assholes actually believed. These days, people will believe anything, trust me. As Neva’s knowledge of the things in the world grew, so did the rumors about me; now are things about me having AIDS and sucking the dick of every man in town which is lie, considering my mouth and I are still a virgin. But that didn’t stop people from believing every fucking word coming out of her worthless mouth.
Suddenly, I’m snapped out of my reverie as a figure plops in front of me and I groan in apprehension. I’m not looking forward to this. Thanks to the fucking wonderful assigned seats, I’m seating right next to the one who probably hates me the most—next to Neva of course. Asher fucking Ramsay. Just saying his name sends chills of anger up my spine; what will happen today? His usual bout of immaturity like hitting me with paper balls, poking me repeatedly, “whispering” to his friends about me? I’m not sure if I can take one more; I’m not sure how he’s even in this class. Surely a student in an Honors English class would have a little more creativity than just giving me immature insults, it’s not even fulfilling, really. The lack of creativity really just pisses me off.
I close my copy of A Clockwork Orange with a sigh, putting it down and doing the assignment that the teacher writes on the board. After a few minutes of doing my work, I see Asher turn to me and I mutter to myself under my breath.
“Here we go…”
We were the dynamic duo, running around wantonly and causing havoc around our shared neighborhood. She was always the beautiful, perfect child while I was the kooky, chubby, strange child; needless to say, we were the best of friends with our contradictory personalities. Just like a cliché, everything changed when we got into middle school. She started hanging out with girls like Suzanna and Buffy. Also needless to say, Suzanna and Buffy are soulless, heartless whores who get enjoyment out of making others suffer and kicking puppies. The once innocent, sweet Neva was turned into another soulless bitch that just stabbed me in the back countless times to satisfy her and her friends’ needs. Most likely the best time that she supplied me with an example is when she invited me to a party, to which I reluctantly went, just to dump a bunch of shit mixed together (like syrup and pig’s blood) on me and embarrass me in front of the whole school. Hell, she even got it on video.
Now, I wasn’t one of those who was abused and shit by their parents. I didn’t have a horrible upbringing, but I also wasn’t spoiled rotten like most people that attend my school. My parents took my camping and taught me the value of a dollar and how to do things like cook and take care of myself. I have an older brother that I’m really close to and an older sister than we barely keep in touch with. When I was a child, I always used to have friends around me. But that changed when Neva turned to the dark side and spread a bunch of rumors that I can’t believe that the moronic assholes actually believed. These days, people will believe anything, trust me. As Neva’s knowledge of the things in the world grew, so did the rumors about me; now are things about me having AIDS and sucking the dick of every man in town which is lie, considering my mouth and I are still a virgin. But that didn’t stop people from believing every fucking word coming out of her worthless mouth.
Suddenly, I’m snapped out of my reverie as a figure plops in front of me and I groan in apprehension. I’m not looking forward to this. Thanks to the fucking wonderful assigned seats, I’m seating right next to the one who probably hates me the most—next to Neva of course. Asher fucking Ramsay. Just saying his name sends chills of anger up my spine; what will happen today? His usual bout of immaturity like hitting me with paper balls, poking me repeatedly, “whispering” to his friends about me? I’m not sure if I can take one more; I’m not sure how he’s even in this class. Surely a student in an Honors English class would have a little more creativity than just giving me immature insults, it’s not even fulfilling, really. The lack of creativity really just pisses me off.
I close my copy of A Clockwork Orange with a sigh, putting it down and doing the assignment that the teacher writes on the board. After a few minutes of doing my work, I see Asher turn to me and I mutter to myself under my breath.
“Here we go…”
