Stop and Stare

Stop and Stare

-Prologue-

Life as a 16 year old girl.

When you read that sentence, what is the first thing you would think of? Most people would start thinking, 'I miss my life as a 16 year old. Going to the mall after school with friends, partying every Friday night, having hangovers every Saturday with girlfriends. Living life to the fullest.'

But when I tell you this: I hate my life as a 16 year old girl.

What would you think about first? Most people would immediately come to the conclusion that that girl is either a self-pitying rich brat or a poor little bullied nerd.

Truth is, I do self-pity alot, but I just can't help it. Life was always such a bore.

Which type of bullying do you think is the worst? Physical or physiological?

I have never actually been bullied physically so I'm going for the not so obvious physiological bullying. Yes, to me, physiological bullying is worst.

Exclusivity.

Oh how I hate that word. That must be the most horrid word ever created. There shouldn't be such a thing.

When you invite a ton of people to a party and exclude one particular person, don't go telling the entire world about your party. It hurts. Espically when it's an end of year party where people from all social standings are included in. What's worse than not being invited to a party deliberately? It's when the host forgot to invite you.

Is that physiological torture or what?

So from what I've just said about myself, what kind of person would you think I am?

I may sound like a brat that over-exaggerates and doesn't know how lucky she is, but that's what my character truly is. There's no changing anything. Funny thing is, no matter how much I want people to notice me or to at least have a single friend I can't seem to speak up.

Maybe it was because of my not-so-pretty-plain-Jane looks and my horribly dull personality?

All I know is if there is a genie and I can get granted a wish, it's to be noticed. Not world peace or anything of that sort. Selfish I know, but who isn't?

~*~

 

Hehe thanks :3

 

Bits and pieces of muffled conversation could be heard as I brisked through the hallway frantically checking the time on my watch.

Gosh, I was late again.

However, being late was never really a problem to me, probably one of the perks of being, well, me.

Invisible me.

I stepped through the back door of the classroom and stood on my tippy toes trying to make as little noise as possible.

Too late, my sneakers squeaked.

I dropped back into my normal height sighing and looking around the classroom to see if anyone had noticed my arrival. More like late arrival.

Even with a little noise no one notices me. How cute. Everyone was staring at the teachers table instead. Twisting my neck to the side to get a better look at the teacher's table after I took my seat, all I could see was the blonde head of a girl accompanied by the receptionist in the office.

Probably some perfect little blonde bimbo entering the class. I rolled my eyes.

Putting my head down on the table, I waited for the teachers to finish their crap with the new blondie and leave.

When I heard the sound of the door screetching, I lifted my head to realise blondie was staring at me. She looked vaguely familiar, and that pair of icy blue eyes, have I seen them somewhere before? And that wrist tattoo, isn't that what-

The door shut close, and instantly my train of thoughts stopped. No point dwelling over something so dumb anyway. This time when I turned my head back to the front, I realised the entire class was staring at me. Then about five seconds later, they all started to turn their heads back simultaneously.

I got noticed a little, that's a first.

 

I can't believe that the entire class staring at me got me in a good mood for the rest of the day, really, I can't.

Am I some easily sastified loner or what?

I brushed through the crowd of people in the hallway and into the washroom. There were two platinum blondes applying and reapplying their lip gloss over a very heated debate of whether Priscilla Martin looked fat in the dress she wore to last Friday's party.

They glanced at me for a moment before continuing their gossip sesh like before. Going into one of the cubicles, I waited for the two girls to leave the bathroom before stepping out.

Looking straight into the mirror I tapped my foot in concentration. Was I that repulsive looking? I had medium length dark brown hair and boring grey eyes. I wore a graphic tee and baggy jeans. Couldn't I fit into the 'average' chart?

People sure do have high expectations.

~*~

I waited patiently for my dad to reach home sitting in the dinning room with my mother. Noticing that our dinner, a bowl of lasagna, was not in a takeaway box, I smiled at my mother who was typing furiously at her blackberry.

"When did you start taking cooking classes mum?"

"Cooking classes?" Her eyes left her blackberry for a moment before going back to it. "When did I ever take cooking classes?"

"Then how did we get this food?" I asked her, puzzled.

She sat her blackberry on the table top and laughed. "It's take away, honey, but don't let your dad find out about that. To him, I cooked dinner. Okay?"

"Um...right." I mumbled.

Trust my mother to lie about being able to cook.

My life sucks.

Hearing the front door creak open, I straightened up in my seat.

My father was a no nonsense man and extremely strict. Hearing him laugh or seeing him smile sometimes was almost a miracle.

Laughter followed his arrival and instantly I turned my head back.

Following my dad was a couple that looked strangely familiar and a girl with her head down, buried in a book.

We have guests? That's rare.

The girl lifted her head up from her book and smiled at me. I lifted a hand up to my heart as my eyes widened, a smile slowly grew on my face. I grinned back at her.

Finally something good happened in my pathetic little life.

~*~
Some comments that are not bumps please? ._. Don't sugarcoat

 

Okiee. I'll try to add in a little more conversation. 

 

Thanks Qinny 

 

Will prolly be updating tommorow morning  I can't seem to get this chapter out. 

 

I have a pretty best friend.

That is the first thought that flashed through my puny little brain.

"Oh my gosh! It has been like, so long! Hi!" Emily, my childhood best friend squealed.

I mentally grimaced. So she's that kind of girl? She'll probably shun me when the adults are gone later.

"Hi." I smiled.

She reached over and hugged me, looking around, I realised that the adults have already went into the kitchen.

She's real, and maybe my ticket to having friends.

I grin.

~*~

Super short chapter ._. I can't seem to know what to write. 

 

We might never ever become good friends.

Emily and I are sitting in my room on my bed. We have been sitting there in an awkward silence as soon as we finished dinner and were supposed to 'catch up'.

Needless to say no words have been exchanged at the moment. Must be my horrible conversation skills.

"So, hi." Emily mutters softly.

"Hi." I reply.

We lapse back into silence.

Suddenly a bolt of irritation rushes through me, and I go into a full on exaggerated rant.

"Alright, I'm sick of this. I'm sick of being a loner and freak for every single moment of my life. I'm sick if being invisible and always the last one to know the latest gossip in school, and that's because I eavesdrop on people while I'm hidding in the bathroom stalls. And now what's happening? I can't even hold a proper conversation with some childhood best friend of mine. I am a dumb, no EQ person with no friends and nothing to do other than stare into space all the time. I basically have no life. I bet if there is a prize for being-"

"Whoa, whoa calm down girl." Emily interrupted chuckling.

"How's life?" She inquires.

Was there a need for her to ask how my life was? Wasn't it obvious enough that I hated my life?

I gave her a flat stare.

She raised her hands up in surrender. "Okay, okay. I get your situation."

"I'm going to your school you know. I can fix your problem." She quipped after a moment of silence.

"How?" I sighed. "I just realised I can barely hold a proper conversation with someone."

"You want to be popular..." She clasped her hands together, a look in her eyes.

"Yes."

"I am going to be popular."

"I know."

"We are best friends."

"We are? Oh, um, I guess."

"You are the best friend of someone popular..." She trailed off.

"Which makes me popular!" I exclaimed and continued in a less excited voice.

"But the problem is me. I am the epitome of awkwardness. So I'll end up screwing everything up."

Hearing that, Emily laughs and checks the time on her phone.

"We have been talking for about forty five minutes."

"Oh." I mutter. Then suddenly, like a light bulb turned on in my head, I repeat the words again. "Oh!"

So I can talk to someone.

Life is going to get better.

~*~