This is not what I asked for, not what I wanted! I wanted to be popular, this is too much! This isn't good, this is bad.
I had been happy when the populars treated me as their "leader", sad when my old friends abandoned me. I hadn't expected my so-called "friends" to take my rants too far, to think they should punish my old friends.
It was bad enough when they spread rumors about my old friends. It was bad enough when they made everyone ignore my old friends. But this was too much.
They started physically bothering my friends last month, but it was little things like bumping into them accidentally-on-purpose, or tripping them accidentally-on-purpose. It evolved into pushing one week, shoving the next, kicking the next week, until now.
After school, my new "friends" had arranged for my old friends parents not to come when they were done working at the school gym. The school was closed, and they didn't have cell phones, so how could they call home?
My "friends" were there, waiting. They brought me along, telling me I was going to love their little surprise. I didn't even like it. Three friends was all I used to have, but nine friends is the amount my new "friends" add up to, so how could my old friends defend themselves, when the odds were three to one?
I can't bring myself tell you how it happened, but I can tell you I stood up for my old friends, and my new "friends" locked me in their trunk telling me it was for my own good, so I would get revenge, that when I got out I would love to see the result of their handiwork.
So here I am, trapped. How can I help my friends? I've learned my lesson, and the populars are not my friends, but my enemies, and my old friends, even if they don't see me that way, aren't my old friends, but my best friends.
And now I'm remembering, thank God, that I have a cell phone. One of my enemies gave it to me and I couldn't figure out how to use it, I'm not at all tech-sav vy, but that can't stop me, I've got too call 911.
* * *
Here I am, a week later, in the hospital, at one of my best friend's bedside. Her name is Angela. At my sides are my other two best friends, Dess and Veronica.
Dess still has a cast, but besides that they have no injuries except for bruises. But that's not entirely true, the doctors say that Angela is fine, but she won't wake up from her coma.
Suddenly, I see a movement.
"Angela?" I ask.
"Hmmm? Where am I? Where's my mom?" She began to grow frantic.
"It's okay, Gel, she's in the bathroom." I soothed. "You're in a hospital, do you remember anything?"
I opened my mouth to say more but her mom rushed in.
"Angela, honey are you okay!?" She pushed her way past us to Angela.
* * *
So it all turned out okay in the end, and of that I'm glad. Thanks for reading my story, I hope you don't make my mistakes.
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