Status: Anus.
Pull Out My Insides
Asher Hugo Ramsay
We all glare at Suzanna from across the lunchroom as she talks and laughs with Zara, getting a small smilethat sends flutters through my body out of her. I can’t believe that with everything that we’ve been through with the group, Suzanna leaves. Apparently, we’re all assholes who just don’t know when enough is enough. Even though she’s right, she’s still pretty bad for putting up with us for all these years. At least we didn’t tell her about the plan or it would’ve ruined the whole plan. Just thinking of the plan to build her up and crush her brings a sadistic grin onto my face.
I walk to the bathroom quickly without anyone noticing my absence thankfully. Dylan, Neva, and I are basically the only smart ones in the group. And Neva barely is. Suzanna was a smart one, too, before she abandoned us. But at least I get away with more things since they’re so moronic. After walking safely into a stall, I take out my phone, scrolling down to the Zs. I smirk as I type the message, wanting to really fuck with her.
‘I’m not giving up on you, Zara,’ is what I read when I reread my message. After waiting a few minutes, I sit in the bathroom and think of what to do next in my plan. But I guess that I should get back to my friends before they notice that I’m gone, so I walk back into the cafeteria to see a big crowd around something and many people laughing. Confused, I walk over to the circle and push my way through the crowd, not caring who I shove in the process; I just have a bad feeling about this. Once I finally push my way through the crowd, my eyes bug out as I take in the horrific sight; Zara lying on the ground with her head gushing blood and in an obviously unconscious state. I turn to the nearest person near me, Neva, and ask her what happened. All I get is a smirk and a maniacal explanation.
“Well, I was just telling Suzanna how much of a traitorous slut she is when little Miss Zara tried to tell me to leave her alone. She doesn’t have the right to talk to me like that, so I just gave her a little push into the wall, I guess it was a little too hard. Oops,” she says with a little giggle.
“Oh, so it’s okay for you to say those things about her, but not okay for her to stand up for her friend. That makes sense,” is all I whispered out, shoving my way through the crowd and out of school. I don’t know why this makes me so upset, it’s just Zara. She’s just a piece of scum under my shoe for me to scrape off. So why am I so upset about this? I just let out a deep sigh and take out my phone, dialing a number known to everyone. After a few rings, the voice picks up.
“911; what’s your emergency?”
I walk to the bathroom quickly without anyone noticing my absence thankfully. Dylan, Neva, and I are basically the only smart ones in the group. And Neva barely is. Suzanna was a smart one, too, before she abandoned us. But at least I get away with more things since they’re so moronic. After walking safely into a stall, I take out my phone, scrolling down to the Zs. I smirk as I type the message, wanting to really fuck with her.
‘I’m not giving up on you, Zara,’ is what I read when I reread my message. After waiting a few minutes, I sit in the bathroom and think of what to do next in my plan. But I guess that I should get back to my friends before they notice that I’m gone, so I walk back into the cafeteria to see a big crowd around something and many people laughing. Confused, I walk over to the circle and push my way through the crowd, not caring who I shove in the process; I just have a bad feeling about this. Once I finally push my way through the crowd, my eyes bug out as I take in the horrific sight; Zara lying on the ground with her head gushing blood and in an obviously unconscious state. I turn to the nearest person near me, Neva, and ask her what happened. All I get is a smirk and a maniacal explanation.
“Well, I was just telling Suzanna how much of a traitorous slut she is when little Miss Zara tried to tell me to leave her alone. She doesn’t have the right to talk to me like that, so I just gave her a little push into the wall, I guess it was a little too hard. Oops,” she says with a little giggle.
“Oh, so it’s okay for you to say those things about her, but not okay for her to stand up for her friend. That makes sense,” is all I whispered out, shoving my way through the crowd and out of school. I don’t know why this makes me so upset, it’s just Zara. She’s just a piece of scum under my shoe for me to scrape off. So why am I so upset about this? I just let out a deep sigh and take out my phone, dialing a number known to everyone. After a few rings, the voice picks up.
“911; what’s your emergency?”