This post is a prologue that I started writing, but I lost the inspiration to continue writing this somewhere along the way. Since I didn’t really have anything to write here today, I decided to post this here because I thought an open-ended prologue would be a nice addition to my blog. I hope you like reading it!
Two stinking weeks. That is all it had been, and yet, it felt as though the world had stopped spinning on its axis. In that moment, I felt such bitter rage towards anybody and everybody who wasn’t in my shoes. How easy they had it.
I know that’s unfair. But when you have been publicly ostracized in front of the whole damn school, there isn’t any other way you can feel about it. 12 years of school rep, so painstakingly built on my own terms—unlike all the Legacy kids that I went to school with. Gone.
And there was nothing I could do, because my name was already covered in dirt. A lot like I was at the moment. I let out a sigh.
I could hear their voices so clearly in my head. How couldn’t I? These were the voices that had been haunting me day and night for the past two weeks.
“I cannot even look at your face right now! You know what? I was such a fool to ever believe that you were a nice person. You are dead to me, you absolute bitch,” I was told. I remember collapsing to my knees as everybody around me threw crumpled balls of paper from the nearest trash can they could find. Smack right in the middle of the school grounds, as everybody watched.
How does anybody ever recover from that? People turned away and stalked off in the other direction now when they saw me walk into the corridor. Nobody even wanted to be standing next to me anymore. It was like I was some kind of walking, talking carrier of a deadly, contagious disease, and nobody wanted anything to have to do with me.
I jammed my gardening trowel hard into the ground in frustration, and chunks of wet earth flew everywhere. My knees and palms were already scraped and bruised from all the thorns that I had weeded out of the old, neglected garden. For once, the tiny scrapes didn’t sting as much as my current situation did.
If only Mom and Dad could see their Golden Girl now, I thought sarcastically. Covered in dirt, both physically and metaphorically. So much for that perfect reputation!
I continued digging with my trowel in a blind rage, my vision tinged with red. My breathing became shaky and my head started throbbing painfully. Damn it! I’d thought that gardening would have made me feel better.
But all I could think of in that moment was how simple it would have been to dig my own grave right there and bury myself alive. What was the point of showing my face every single day at a place where I only got called names and got trash thrown at me?
Nobody deserved to be treated like that. I wouldn’t have wished it upon my worst enemy.
Funny how life works, isn’t it? One minute you’re one of the most popular girls at school, your parents’ ‘Golden Girl’, and the next minute you’re falling through the ranks until you’re a social pariah.
I was a nobody. And I was left with nobody.
High school was a custom-made Hell. Hell that I had to survive three more months of.
You know what they say about Hell? Every second feels like a decade, and you keep re-living your worst moments over and over, in an endless loop. And that is exactly what it felt like. Three months couldn’t pass by soon enough. I didn’t know if I had it in me. But I promised myself that I’d make it out of this mess.
And when I’d finally find an out, there was going to be Hell to pay and I’d make sure of it.
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Featured Image by Lenny Acompanado on Unsplash
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