Sequel: Achluophobia ›
Status: Done
Pocrescophobia
The past is a liar
This morning, the bright morning sun smiles at me, and for once, I don't glare back to its face. There's this feeling in the pit of my stomach that something's going to happen today, no matter how stupid it sounds. Whether it's good or bad, I'm not sure. Oh well, might as well go ahead and get ready. I have idiots to terrorise. Well, one in particular, but still.
I step into my bathroom, quickly stripping off my clothes to beat the perpetual chill of this barren house and get under the water turned to the hottest temperature possible. And then as I was washing my butt (just kidding, my hair), I got the best idea ever. Today, something will definitely happen. Today, I'm finally going to see what's underneath Arden's stupid fucking bulky sweatshirts. As I finish washing, my grin only widens as I start to put the plan together in my head. This will be perfect.
--
Around 30 minutes later, I jump into my car, already excited for what will soon ensue. My friends catch up with me as soon as I smoothly exit my car, blabbering about the usual nonsense going on in the school. I can't be bothered to listen though, seeing as in mere minutes, I'll finally be able to see what that little shit's been hiding for years. When everyone finally notices that I'm not paying any attention whatsoever, they turn to me, looking at me with different expressions on their faces: confusion, expectation, worry, apathy.
"What's wrong?" my best friend, Lauren, asks. Much to her relief, I merely smirk and lean back, resting the back of my head in my clasped hands.
"Nothing's wrong, girly," I say slyly. She gives me a pointed look and pouts. "Oh no, what do you have planned?" she asks. I let out a deep sigh and grin at her.
"Don't worry, you'll see what I have planned soon enough." Oh, speak of the devil and he shall appear. There's little Larden and his faggoty friends. Time for my grand arrival. With a nod to my friends, I swiftly stand up, channeling all of my anger into a single facial expression as his friends dumbly walk away to go to wherever the hell they go. And if I may say so, I think that this is my best angry look ever, seeing as once Arden sees me, he looks like he's going to shit himself. Oh, this is will be wonderful. I wonder what he actually looks like under all of those clothes... I mean, under layers, not naked, idiots. I'm not some fucking gayfer. Okay, time to put the plan in action.
Once I start to stomp over, I start to get this feeling in my stomach that makes me almost stop and wonder if I should really do this. But soon enough, my anticipation and complete inner douchebaggery makes me walk with even more determination. Yeah, I'll admit it, I'm a douchebag, but at least I'm not some pansy who lets everyone walk over him. At least I'm not how I used to be. When I used to be... Never mind.
My arising inner demons cause anger to pump violently through my veins, and as I approach the short boy, I end up picking him up by the collar of one of his fucking jackets and growling in his face. The horrifiedyet familiar look on his face almost makes me stop, but I merely shake my head and glare deeply into his eyes. By this point, he's legitimately shaking. Maybe I should calm down a little... Nah.
"P-Please don't hurt me," he whimpers pathetically, clenching his eyes closed. I smirk, although he can't see it through his closed eyes, and lean into his ear to whisper something.
"No, I'll do something much worse. I'm going to find out what you're hiding underneath all of those stupid jackets," I murmur sadistically in his ear. At that moment, I get the exact reaction I want. His eyes shoot open and a look of utter terror takes over his face. Ah, so he is hiding something. Hmm, I guess it's about high time to find out what it is.
"Please, PLEASE. Don't do it," he gasps out, tears welling in his eyes. Is it really that fucking bad? It can't be too bad. I just need to know. I don't know why, but I just do.
"Why, little Arden? Got something to hide?" I tease cruelly, placing my fingers at the edge of the many layers of jackets.
He shakes his heads, his breath catching on what will soon be sobs. "Please, no. I'm so fat, please don't. I-I can't." Fat, hmm? Well, let's see how true that is. With one last evil glare, I rip my fingers up, taking all the jackets off at once. As I do, my eyes immediately widen in surprise. I was expecting so many things... Anything other than this. How can he even think he's fat? He looks like he hasn't been fed in years. He looks like a fucking skeleton! How could he possibly think that he's even the least bit fat? And then it clicks. It's my fault. I'm the reason that he looks like a fucking skeleton. I screwed him up. Usually, this would make me feel amazing, causing someone I hate so much pain, physically and emotionally, but I just can't find it in myself to feel that way. When everyone turns to stare and gasp, he finally bursts into tears, tearing the jackets from my nearly shaking arms and turning around to run, not even looking back.
As he runs away, I turn around, mouth agape to my friends, heart beating wildly, cold blood pumping through my veins. Oh god, what have I done?
I step into my bathroom, quickly stripping off my clothes to beat the perpetual chill of this barren house and get under the water turned to the hottest temperature possible. And then as I was washing my butt (just kidding, my hair), I got the best idea ever. Today, something will definitely happen. Today, I'm finally going to see what's underneath Arden's stupid fucking bulky sweatshirts. As I finish washing, my grin only widens as I start to put the plan together in my head. This will be perfect.
--
Around 30 minutes later, I jump into my car, already excited for what will soon ensue. My friends catch up with me as soon as I smoothly exit my car, blabbering about the usual nonsense going on in the school. I can't be bothered to listen though, seeing as in mere minutes, I'll finally be able to see what that little shit's been hiding for years. When everyone finally notices that I'm not paying any attention whatsoever, they turn to me, looking at me with different expressions on their faces: confusion, expectation, worry, apathy.
"What's wrong?" my best friend, Lauren, asks. Much to her relief, I merely smirk and lean back, resting the back of my head in my clasped hands.
"Nothing's wrong, girly," I say slyly. She gives me a pointed look and pouts. "Oh no, what do you have planned?" she asks. I let out a deep sigh and grin at her.
"Don't worry, you'll see what I have planned soon enough." Oh, speak of the devil and he shall appear. There's little Larden and his faggoty friends. Time for my grand arrival. With a nod to my friends, I swiftly stand up, channeling all of my anger into a single facial expression as his friends dumbly walk away to go to wherever the hell they go. And if I may say so, I think that this is my best angry look ever, seeing as once Arden sees me, he looks like he's going to shit himself. Oh, this is will be wonderful. I wonder what he actually looks like under all of those clothes... I mean, under layers, not naked, idiots. I'm not some fucking gayfer. Okay, time to put the plan in action.
Once I start to stomp over, I start to get this feeling in my stomach that makes me almost stop and wonder if I should really do this. But soon enough, my anticipation and complete inner douchebaggery makes me walk with even more determination. Yeah, I'll admit it, I'm a douchebag, but at least I'm not some pansy who lets everyone walk over him. At least I'm not how I used to be. When I used to be... Never mind.
My arising inner demons cause anger to pump violently through my veins, and as I approach the short boy, I end up picking him up by the collar of one of his fucking jackets and growling in his face. The horrifiedyet familiar look on his face almost makes me stop, but I merely shake my head and glare deeply into his eyes. By this point, he's legitimately shaking. Maybe I should calm down a little... Nah.
"P-Please don't hurt me," he whimpers pathetically, clenching his eyes closed. I smirk, although he can't see it through his closed eyes, and lean into his ear to whisper something.
"No, I'll do something much worse. I'm going to find out what you're hiding underneath all of those stupid jackets," I murmur sadistically in his ear. At that moment, I get the exact reaction I want. His eyes shoot open and a look of utter terror takes over his face. Ah, so he is hiding something. Hmm, I guess it's about high time to find out what it is.
"Please, PLEASE. Don't do it," he gasps out, tears welling in his eyes. Is it really that fucking bad? It can't be too bad. I just need to know. I don't know why, but I just do.
"Why, little Arden? Got something to hide?" I tease cruelly, placing my fingers at the edge of the many layers of jackets.
He shakes his heads, his breath catching on what will soon be sobs. "Please, no. I'm so fat, please don't. I-I can't." Fat, hmm? Well, let's see how true that is. With one last evil glare, I rip my fingers up, taking all the jackets off at once. As I do, my eyes immediately widen in surprise. I was expecting so many things... Anything other than this. How can he even think he's fat? He looks like he hasn't been fed in years. He looks like a fucking skeleton! How could he possibly think that he's even the least bit fat? And then it clicks. It's my fault. I'm the reason that he looks like a fucking skeleton. I screwed him up. Usually, this would make me feel amazing, causing someone I hate so much pain, physically and emotionally, but I just can't find it in myself to feel that way. When everyone turns to stare and gasp, he finally bursts into tears, tearing the jackets from my nearly shaking arms and turning around to run, not even looking back.
As he runs away, I turn around, mouth agape to my friends, heart beating wildly, cold blood pumping through my veins. Oh god, what have I done?
