Surving the Game

After I disposed of the clothes and soaked in a pink-water bath, I thought deeply about the incident that occurred not but twenty minutes ago. As young I was I couldn't relate to it. I felt alienated that I was touched in such a manner. I never thought anyone would break a fragile vase because they liked the way it looked. So why would this teenage boy corrupt me if he thought I was pretty? Except he didn't think I was pretty. I looked into those yellow eyes, and it was an obsession caked in awe. I babied my wounds and rubbed the knots on my head, and went into a fevered sleep.......

I was thirteen years old, and living in a shell made out skin and fake smiles. I was no longer someone that I knew. No more waiting for Daddy at the door. No more playing children games with my sisters. No more chatting with Momma while she cooked. I wore dark colors to hide in a crowd. I covered up scars that were invisible to others, but as noticeable as neon lights to me. I walked around like a zombie. I was misunderstood through everything, but I also never let anyone into my brain. My memories, thoughts, and dreams were kept locked up for no one to love or care for. That was the way I wanted it.

This was going to be my first year in Middle School. So far I didn’t like it one bit. I held back tears, straining to hold back screams demanding silence in the loud gym. Scratching my ears with glossy eyes scanning the perimeter and remembering faces, I grinded my teeth trying so hard not to scream. Girls and their laughs were all I could make out over the buttons being pressed on cell phones, chattering; and lip gloss tops being popped. I scanned my eyes over them whispering; "Blonde, brunette, blonde, blonde, brunette, red, brunette, blonde; Jesus fucking Christ..." The noise. God that fucken noise would never ease. No matter how silent I was, the crowd only grew with more talking, clicking, snapping, smacking, tinking, and it was a never ending story.

The bell rang, and I walked away knowing that going numb was my only survival mechanism. Everyone walked in clusters, while I walked with an isolated bubble protecting myself. My blank eyes stared at the ground, watching my feet, and judging how small they were. I was always judging every damn thing on my body. During first period, I slipped my MP3 earplugs through my jacket. I was too poor to own those IPods. As soon as I got in touch with the melodies of rock n' roll, I felt the stare of someone burning through the back of my neck.

I turn around to see a blonde, blue eyed, over perfumed, overly self-tanned girl staring with judgment. A hot flash rushes over me, but I kept my silence. "You're really weird, you know? I'm Zell, by the way. My family owns the court house here," She waited for a reply from me, but after a few seconds she goes on, "You don't talk much do you? You know, I would like totally wear white if I had a skin tone like that. You look like you have some I guess... Indian, is it? Or like Mexican? Whatever, my mom says that if you were too much dark colors and don't talk that much, you might as well be a runner up for a juvenile..." I sat in my silence keeping my thoughts to myself. Zell waited once more for a reply and finally gets a flash of embarrassment that shortly turns to anger. "Look, I could report you back to the office for being a suspicious character, and they can drug test you and stuff. So why don't you say something? Do you think you're better than me or something? You're ugly and snobby, and I don't like you! My mom-" Her finger pointed between my eyes at my nose. This bitch was in my bubble, and the confrontation had begun.

With Zell's finger in my face, I squeezed it and hissed in a quiet manner, "I don't care what your mom says. I want to be left alone. I don't much care of your opinion on me or anything else. I don't care if your family owns a court house or a million court houses. Say anything else to me your finger is going to be broken, and I'll cast a spell on you for given me trouble. So, little Zell, one more thing: don't. fuck. with crazy people."

I released my grasp around Zell's finger, and watched as Zell shuttered back into her desk with her hand holding her fingers. I knew I had silenced the rambunctious girl, but I kept my guard up ready for a war to continue.

By the next class, it amazed me how fast rumors roared the hallways, and how dramatically they changed. Some people were saying I was in handcuffs, others thought I broke Zell’s finger and I flew out the window on broomstick. I rolled her eyes, and walked on. The day was long, and while everyone went home to families and friends with smiles, I was locked into my own isolation. Misunderstood and weird. No one knew why I hated noise, but all they saw was a wet eyed girl clawing at her ears. I wasn't going to explain for them either. I couldn't explain. I just wanted silence. No grunting in my ear. I didn't want anyone to get close to me, because I didn't want to be touched. I was just breezing by through these school years the best I knew how.

One day I was getting off the school bus where it left me in a cloud of dust. Instead of going straight inside I walked around for a it. It was around seven and growing dark on I realized how much time had past. I watched the clouds turn to thin, feathered dust and the sky turn into a washed up gray-blue. The moon glowed while the sun peaked out far into the distance, being swallowed into the trees. I picked up a small rock and tossed it, waiting to hear it fall to gravel. As the shadows filled with suspense, she slowly walked toward the end of the driveway.

A horrifying voice chilled her skin, and her heart rattled in her chest. A grown, familiar face, a bitter smile, and yellow eyes pierced through the dark. "My my my... You sure have grown Michelle."