Breathe.
Breathe.
For the full story, we had a social the night before. I dressed up a little, with a plaid skirt skirt, band shirt, fishnet stockings, high-tops and a rosary making up my outfit. I also decided to wear black lipstick and black eye-makeup.
Possibly not the best choice.
Of course, because the idiots at my school are so close-minded and conformed, I was the only one there dressed in something I wouldn't normally wear. I got some insults, and I bit back.
Friday. My best friend's last day at school. She's moving.
I wanted it to be a good day, I wanted her last day to be one she'd remember. I didn't want anything to go wrong, I didn't want her to leave worried about me. I wanted her to leave and at least think I'd be alright without her.
The next morning, before school started, I was fine. I walked from school after my mother dropped me off to my friend's house, which is maybe a five minute walk. We, along with two of our other friends, walked back to school, hung around in the library for a while, and went to class as normal.
Roll call was normal, my class wouldn't shut up and we were almost late to PE.
PE was where it started. A friend of mine, Christine, started crying. I thought she was simply whining about her hair as usual, so I told her to quit it.
When I realized she was legitimately upset, I apologized and hugged her.
She told me another girl, whom I've had issues with before now, had said something. I comforted her while everyone else played soccer, then I went and played when this girl came over and began pestering us.
I didn't want to play soccer. I didn't want to do anything. It was my best friend's last day and the last day of term. I vocalized it. The girl who sent my whole day down the tubes piped up.
"Jesus Christ, Renee. Stop whining, you stupid bitch. You just fucking snapped at Christine, she's fucking crying you stupid goth!"
My stomach flew out from my body.
Next lesson was alright. A math test, so nobody really could say anything.
Then came recess. It was alright, I sat with my best friend and our group. Nobody said anything. I took photos, ate a little.
First bell goes. I walk back to class with my two close friends Ali and Bonnie. They stop to talk to someone, I continue walking. I'm attempting to untangle my iPod headphones when I hear yells from across the courtyard.
"Fuck you, Renee! You're such a fucking skank! Crawl back into hell with your stupid Satan boy!"
Ville. His name is Ville.
I felt sick.
"Just fucking leave me alone Lara, you dickweed!"
"Why should I? You're so scared of being called a goth and shit, so why do you dress like one? Huh?"
"It was a fucking social, you're supposed to dress up!"
"You're such a slut, Renee. You're a whore. You're a fucking goth. You're an emo. You're fucking everything bad in this world!"
Ali stepped up, as did Christine.
"Lara, just fuck off and leave her alone. Leave it."
"Why, Ali? She's fucking asking for it!"
"Because, Lara!"
"Seriously, what did she ever do to you?"
Lara walked off. I leaned against the pole of the portable, feeling nauseated. I knew what was happening; an anxiety attack was hitting me full-tilt.
"Ali, I think I'm gonna puke."
Great time for our teacher to rock up. Christine helped me explain the situation before Lara hit the classroom, then Ali and myself rushed to the bathroom.
I needed a drink.
We got back to the classroom, and I avoided everyone's gaze, especially Lara's. My writing book became covered in repeated words; breathe, scream. Even suicide and cut a few times each.
"Breathe, Renee. Breathe. She can't get you here, Mr. Brown's there and Ms. K's across the partition. She can't get you here. Breathe, breathe, breathe."
I pulled out a poster of Ville my best friend had given me that morning, sticking it to my desk with the blue tack she'd put on it previously.
"Think, Renee. Think of him. He's here. He's not going to let her get you. She won't get you, not while he's here."
I begged for the lesson to end, though it was really the end-of-term class party.
But of course, as soon as one so much as thinks it can't get any worse, it does.
Sitting and eating salt & vinegar chips, my stomach churned. And I knew this time it wasn't my anxiety.
"Shay, have you got any you-know-whats?"
"No, I took them out. Why?"
Glare.
"Oh shit. And you're in a skirt too... you have shorts underneath right?"
"No, Shay, I'm going whore today. Of course I do, dipshit."
"Sorry."
"Would Maddy have any?"
"Yeah, she should. I think she has hers right now."
"Maddy! C'mere."
It took my teacher exactly seven minutes to write us a note to the bathroom.
Lunch time came around. My last lunch time with my best friend.
A substitute teacher put on a fire show around the back. Fire-breathing, juggling those things with flaming ends.
The bell sounded, signalling we had to return to class. It took all I had to force back the tears; one person had screwed up my entire last day with Jess. I wanted to scream, to throw a tantrum. I wanted to hit someone.
But I didn't. I didn't because I didn't want Jess to be worried about me.
Maybe there was one good thing about the last day of term.
And I think that was the fact I survived.
Possibly not the best choice.
Of course, because the idiots at my school are so close-minded and conformed, I was the only one there dressed in something I wouldn't normally wear. I got some insults, and I bit back.
Friday. My best friend's last day at school. She's moving.
I wanted it to be a good day, I wanted her last day to be one she'd remember. I didn't want anything to go wrong, I didn't want her to leave worried about me. I wanted her to leave and at least think I'd be alright without her.
The next morning, before school started, I was fine. I walked from school after my mother dropped me off to my friend's house, which is maybe a five minute walk. We, along with two of our other friends, walked back to school, hung around in the library for a while, and went to class as normal.
Roll call was normal, my class wouldn't shut up and we were almost late to PE.
PE was where it started. A friend of mine, Christine, started crying. I thought she was simply whining about her hair as usual, so I told her to quit it.
When I realized she was legitimately upset, I apologized and hugged her.
She told me another girl, whom I've had issues with before now, had said something. I comforted her while everyone else played soccer, then I went and played when this girl came over and began pestering us.
I didn't want to play soccer. I didn't want to do anything. It was my best friend's last day and the last day of term. I vocalized it. The girl who sent my whole day down the tubes piped up.
"Jesus Christ, Renee. Stop whining, you stupid bitch. You just fucking snapped at Christine, she's fucking crying you stupid goth!"
My stomach flew out from my body.
Next lesson was alright. A math test, so nobody really could say anything.
Then came recess. It was alright, I sat with my best friend and our group. Nobody said anything. I took photos, ate a little.
First bell goes. I walk back to class with my two close friends Ali and Bonnie. They stop to talk to someone, I continue walking. I'm attempting to untangle my iPod headphones when I hear yells from across the courtyard.
"Fuck you, Renee! You're such a fucking skank! Crawl back into hell with your stupid Satan boy!"
Ville. His name is Ville.
I felt sick.
"Just fucking leave me alone Lara, you dickweed!"
"Why should I? You're so scared of being called a goth and shit, so why do you dress like one? Huh?"
"It was a fucking social, you're supposed to dress up!"
"You're such a slut, Renee. You're a whore. You're a fucking goth. You're an emo. You're fucking everything bad in this world!"
Ali stepped up, as did Christine.
"Lara, just fuck off and leave her alone. Leave it."
"Why, Ali? She's fucking asking for it!"
"Because, Lara!"
"Seriously, what did she ever do to you?"
Lara walked off. I leaned against the pole of the portable, feeling nauseated. I knew what was happening; an anxiety attack was hitting me full-tilt.
"Ali, I think I'm gonna puke."
Great time for our teacher to rock up. Christine helped me explain the situation before Lara hit the classroom, then Ali and myself rushed to the bathroom.
I needed a drink.
We got back to the classroom, and I avoided everyone's gaze, especially Lara's. My writing book became covered in repeated words; breathe, scream. Even suicide and cut a few times each.
"Breathe, Renee. Breathe. She can't get you here, Mr. Brown's there and Ms. K's across the partition. She can't get you here. Breathe, breathe, breathe."
I pulled out a poster of Ville my best friend had given me that morning, sticking it to my desk with the blue tack she'd put on it previously.
"Think, Renee. Think of him. He's here. He's not going to let her get you. She won't get you, not while he's here."
I begged for the lesson to end, though it was really the end-of-term class party.
But of course, as soon as one so much as thinks it can't get any worse, it does.
Sitting and eating salt & vinegar chips, my stomach churned. And I knew this time it wasn't my anxiety.
"Shay, have you got any you-know-whats?"
"No, I took them out. Why?"
Glare.
"Oh shit. And you're in a skirt too... you have shorts underneath right?"
"No, Shay, I'm going whore today. Of course I do, dipshit."
"Sorry."
"Would Maddy have any?"
"Yeah, she should. I think she has hers right now."
"Maddy! C'mere."
It took my teacher exactly seven minutes to write us a note to the bathroom.
Lunch time came around. My last lunch time with my best friend.
A substitute teacher put on a fire show around the back. Fire-breathing, juggling those things with flaming ends.
The bell sounded, signalling we had to return to class. It took all I had to force back the tears; one person had screwed up my entire last day with Jess. I wanted to scream, to throw a tantrum. I wanted to hit someone.
But I didn't. I didn't because I didn't want Jess to be worried about me.
Maybe there was one good thing about the last day of term.
And I think that was the fact I survived.