Before reading this, you should read part 1 to get an idea of the origin of this idea, and true scope of my… Well, I refuse to call it story-telling. It’s just attrocious.
I’d found this story a while ago, and this was going to be the first part of this “series”, but I wanted to let you see the less insufferable side of me first. Well, I don’t really know actually; the MORE mature side.
When I was 12, I was irritating, over-dramatic, prone to thinking that I should belong in some novel, and I had a crush on someone and thought I was in love with him. When I was 11, I was worse. Yes, that’s possible: I thought that I was grown up, had just started at a new school, was clueless as to how anything worked and just… I’d recently come out of my very very weird phase, and I’m cringing so hard because my younger self was embarrassing as fuck.
Bear that in mind when you’re reading this abominable “creation”. Luckily, the only person who I sent this to was my mother; nobody else has ever read this. I hope. I believe I continued this, but then deleted it. Here is “Chapter 1”, fit with sarcastic commentary. At one point, I do scream at myself; imagine someone going into a rage and waving their hands about whilst yelling.
Chapter One: Churchhill Chaos
My teacher stares angrily down at me, with blazing eyes like pools of fire Just imagine someone with literal fire in their eyes – also that’s the most overused simile ever. The familiar classroom surrounds me, with its grinning pupils and ghastly teacher Here we go…. “Well?” She demands. “What is the answer?”
My mind tries to clear itself, but the horrible images still remain Basically there WAS a prologue but it was just tedious; long story short, she had a nightmare or something?. “Hell?” I say, clearly. What the hell did I just say? Ooohh such a good pun – OR NOT! The class erupts into rude sniggering laughter, filling me with horror and dread. Twats
“You weren’t listening to the lesson, were you?” No shit, Sherlock snaps Miss Benetis furiously, her face turning red. CALM DOWN
“No Miss! She wasn’t, she was away with the fairies!” PLEASE tell me that wasn’t what started my not-cool fairy obsession of 2012… shrieks Alice Lest Is this another Katie? Oooh!, a short girl with blonde, wispy hair, to all appearances a cute innocent little girl (but in truth she is my mortal enemy Ermmm…, who bullies me non stop). The class chortles away, but I do not pay any attention. Eyyy good! I have more serious problems to deal with. “Bethany, how dare you be so rude and disrespectful!” You were meant to put a new paragraph there – new line new speaker! Miss Benetis practically screams. “You are in YEAR SEVEN ALRIGHT calm down! now, you can not get away with it anymore.” Her voice gets softer, a sure sign she is about to explode. Is she okay? Seriously, they’re in YEAR SEVEN, give them a break! I hold my breath.
“Right!” She shakes the room with her lethal yell, her fiery figure dancing and erupting OHMYGOD it’s a demon holyshit wait why is she erupting? “I will not put up with this at all! You all stay behind, and Bethany, you stay for an extra 5 minutes!” WHAT, just because she didn’t answer a question? Bit extreme. Groans fill the room, stares of pure hatred point in my direction, and Alice nudges me hard and hisses “I’ll get you for this.” Guys she’s gonna get her revenge – I’m sorry I shouldn’t take the piss out of this but I absolutely didn’t know what it was like to be picked on and I can’t take myself seriously No one in my form likes me, except Rebecca. She is one of the nicest people I have encountered at Bale Secondary School, What is it with naming schools so badly? and is the only one who sticks up for me.
“Will you shut up Alice. Where’s the question mark? It wasn’t her fault, was it?” She asks now, looking pitifully at me. LEGEND
“Yes it was!” cries Alice and most of the class. “Of course it was! It always is.” BITCH PLEASE Tears well up in my eyes, trying in vain to come out. I try with all my might to hold them back, but Jennifer Wakefield sees. I’m just crying here because that was a very bad way to introduce a character. Snorting, she chants: “bethany the baby, always gonna cry, bethany the baby, she’s gonna die!” …… WHAT THE – that was awful and it’s like a 6-year-old – SO BAD – rhyming was terrible GET OUT – I can’t any more
Other people in the form titter at this, but I try to pay no heed. “That wasn’t very inventive. YES! I can think of some more!” cries Charlie Becksworth, Oh. Thought that was Bethany. and proceeds to taunt me with ridiculous sayings and insults. The bell rings three times, but Miss Benetis pays no attention. “Thanks to Bethany, you will all stay behind 5 minutes!” SOOOO petty She roars, doing very well at imitating a lion. Ahahahaha no
“Well well well.” cries Alice, “seems as Bethany is such a baby with no morals No – morals – what?, lets be silent in mourning for her birth!” You are so shit at insults
WILL YOU SHUT UP!” yells Rebecca, looking as if she wants to strike Alice down. They’re 11
“Oh, you’re one to talk, aren’t you? Always sticking up for that pipsqueak over there–how old are you again Bethany? Oh yeah, I forgot you’re too dumb to understand what that means!” shrieks Charlie, snorting and giggling. They’re getting worse – also who snorts and giggles at the same time? “Ha! Now she’s gonna cry!”
Miss Benetis pays no attention, staring at us with anger and hatred. THEY ARE 11! Why? Why is it always me? “BABY BALD Bethany!” This last remark bites into me, so sharp my skin prickles and fizzes Is it on fire or something?. Just because I have a hair problem doesn’t mean I’m bald!
RIGHT! This needs an entire paragraph to explain; sorry about the font but I don’t know what it looks like so I’m just gonna use it. When I was 11, my sister told me about a condition where a person has a compulsion to pull out their hair: it’s called Trichotillomania, and you can read more about it here. At the time, I neither knew what it was called nor bothered to search it up (afterwards of course I did) and I tried to include it because… I don’t know. It was badly done and I’m just angry that my younger self didn’t do ANY research.
“Pa!!!!!!!” Too many exclamation marks – these people just need to chill cries Charlie. Oh no, I must have been thinking aloud again. “She’s mad, and weird, and stupid! She shouldn’t even be in this good school at all!” Errrmm WHAT you little shit! That’s it.
I jump up, figuring that the 10 minutes has gone, be it quickly. “Go away Bethany, and don’t come back in here.” says the tyrant teacher calmly, pointing to the door. I hurry out, with shouts and jeers following me. FINALLY she leaves!
Outside I find a strange boy staring at me. Okay? You just walk out of the classroom and he’s staring at you? Logical. “You’re the girl that’s getting bullied, aren’t you?” He asks. WHAT the actual HELL? You don’t just ask that question! What was that? So unsubtle and you can’t just – you insensitive-
“Yes, but why?” I reply, bemused at how he knows. If you’re actually being bullied, it’s very rare that you would so readily admit it to someone you don’t know, even if you need someone to talk to.
“Well I just–` Our conversation is interrupted by Charlie coming out of the classroom. Convenient, huh? Also, I’ve lost track of who’s who; this character development is laughably bad.
“Ha! You don’t have to know. Come on Henry, she’s weird and you don’t need to know her.” Okay – if he’s friends with this Charlie person, then surely Bethany would get suspicious, but I doubt she would – if I continued this, I hope I made that a source of conflict but probably not. He hurries Henry away, leaving me thinking how nice he might be. I hear a sob, and I turn round to see Rebecca hurtling towards me. She flings her arms round me, saying again and again how sorry she is. I comfort her and tell her she need not worry. I like Rebecca. She has substance?
The rest of the day is a hazy blur, with people taunting me endlessly, and I don’t see Henry. Of course I tell Rebecca about him, and she is now trying to find him while I sit on a bench That’s so awkward, people skittering around me like flies. Flies don’t skitter. They fly. Clue’s in the name Someone taps me on the shoulder: I wonder who THAT is! “Uh… I’m Henry, the person who saw you outside your form room.” I’m so so clever; I guessed it! I guessed IT! I turn round, and there he is. Just at that split second, Rebecca comes running up, smiles at Henry and sits down. Convenient
Hi,” I say. “your right Arghhh wrong use of “you’re”, STOP!, people are picking on me. Bullying, in fact.”
“I thought so,” says Henry, coming round to sit down on the bench. That’s actually kind of insulting and even more insensitive… But fine, whatever floats your boat “I no CRYING CRYING that grammar that Charlie, he’s a liar and he’s been saying ghastly and untrue things about you.” Who says “ghastly” in year 7?
Again we are rudely pushed aside by Charlie Bugger off, who goes storming up to us, pushing me and Rebecca and making us shriek. He grabs Henry, hissing at me What a snake – get it?! I’m becoming hysterical “don’t talk to him again. You hear me?” I nod feebly, for there is nothing I can do. Kick him where the sun don’t shine. Do it! And then go and make friends with Henry, who will actually treat your issues with respect, and go through a great transformation and do all that growing up and stuff that happens in “books” AND JUST ACQUIRE A CHARACTER!
Ehem… I think I need to go and calm down, whilst howling in mortification.
If anyone read this, they’d think I was a miserable child, but I wasn’t: I just didn’t understand how to write reasonably about other people’s problems, though I thought I did.
Hope you, um, enjoyed this?
From Elm 🙂