|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
 Posted: Sun Mar 30, 2008 6:41 pm
**Click the image to return to the main thread!** ~Birth of Rose~ ..........She's so perfect it makes you sick. Even your version of her was perfect. You hadn't put much thought into the space of the stitches, or the width of the seams... But it was as if HER presence had made them all-too perfect. The doll was supposed to be you. You, ideally. You, perfected. But instead... Somehow it was her... Oh well. Let's see how perfect "she" is after you've done your worst to this little doll...Personal Information about Rose:Birthdate: March 30th, 2008 Core Emotion: Jealousy Gender: Female Hair color: Shining, bouncing brown curls Eye color: Emerald Green
|
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Tue Apr 01, 2008 7:39 pm
Behind envy there’s hate, behind hate there’s love...The dark brown yarn curled wildly around her face. Even then, it seemed somehow perfect. Big green buttons shone brilliantly on the coarse fabric that was her face, and a small stitch represented a mouth. I gritted my teeth. I could just imagine her wide, pearly smile, surrounded by her lush, red lips. Everybody worshipped her, with her stupid laugh and graceful actions. She always acted great, always looked great- everything about her was just great. My stomach twinged and knotted. I felt an emotion rise in me, one that I had never felt before. I pushed the feeling away with a shake of my head.
I focused on the doll once more. It hung limply in my hands. The outfit was simple, just like the one she had worn to school- a black top, no straps. Dark blue material that resembled jeans was wound tightly around its legs. It was casual, everyday clothing, but even still she looked like a model. The doll was detailed, I know- but the only thing I’m really good at, that I can beat her in, is arts and crafts. And I made sure everyone knew that today. I clenched my hand, and snarled. The doll crumpled in my shaking fist.
Once I had finished the doll, it sunk in. They all told me how pretty it was, how great it looked- I mean, how could it not pretty? It was everything I wanted to be. The only person who didn’t say anything was Rose herself. She saw it and almost choked. I think it was because she had noticed the resemblance between it and her. I grinned maliciously at the memory. She was freaked out. Good, I thought. Now she knows howIfelt.
I smiled at the doll. It was the kind of smile I want to give Rose- and it wasn’t nice. I reached into my sewing kit. I picked up a thumbtack. I twirled it between my thumb and index finger, surveying the doll.
“Gee Rose, you’re so pretty.” I growled, plunging the thumbtack remorselessly into the dolls chest, exactly where its heart should be. As if she even has a heart. The thought made me grin even wider. No. That’s right. She doesn’t have a heart.
I picked up a safety pin. “Gee Rose, you’re so smart.” I stabbed it into the dolls forehead, fixing it into place. But still, it was smiling. Anger welled up inside me.
I pulled out a long pin. It looked sharp and dangerous, prised between my fingers. “Gee Rose, you’re so great, we just love you Rose!” I rammed it into her leg, before picking up the doll and flinging it as hard as I could into the wall. It fell to the ground with a lifeless thump.
-----
Rose beats me in everything. Writing, art, sport- all the things I love. And her looks- every boy in school loves her. Well, all except one did. But I guess even the good ones turn over to the dark side. And waiting for them is the embrace of evil.
The thing is, no one notices Rose really isn’t that great. No one notices me, or my work, or my grades, right behind Rose. I doubt anyone even knew my name before arts and crafts today. Well, no one except for Rose. And... and him.
But what does it matter? Instead of sitting next to me, he was clinging onto her, laughing and smiling. He didn’t realise my heart was breaking. He and I... we were connected. We spent every single day together, for God’s sake. Then she wandered along. Yeah, like everyone else, I thought she was great. The memory makes me feel sick and ashamed: how could I be so stupid? But I thought we were united, me and Rose, with him tagging behind. I didn’t realise they were the united ones. The ones who wanted me out. The lying, sick people, the ones I wish I had never met...
So I made the doll. It wanted it to look exactly how I wanted to look. But it ended up looking like her. Rose.
Rose. What a perfect name for a doll. ...and behind love there are so many other four-letter words.
Butterfly brushes by CaliBitchxx of DeviantArt.
Splatter brushes by agent-provocateur of DeviantArt
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Tue Apr 01, 2008 9:54 pm
 The truth is known...There are no secrets better kept than the secrets that everybody guesses...
The bus was noisy, crowded and filled with chatter. I sat alone, forehead resting against the window. Outside, the sun shone and birds sang. Inside, everyone was in partners or groups. That is, everyone except for me.
I leant back on the hard bus seat. The old vehicle rumbled down the roads, stopping here and there to pick up more people, until the bus was crammed with bodies. However, the seat next to mine still remained empty. I took a deep breath. I was already dreaming of home time.
The bus eventually pulled up at school. A slow line of students formed, queuing down the aisles of the bus. I stood up and joined them, listening to their casual and boring conversations. No one talked to me, which was good. I was not in the mood for mindless chatter. We neared the exit, and spilled out onto the sidewalk, just in front of the school entrance. Holding onto the shoulder straps of my bag, I wandered into school, my gaze directed at my feet. I headed towards my first class.
-----
I sat in English, tapping my fingers impatiently on the front-row desk. First period hadn’t even started yet, and I was already over it. The beat I created echoed around the empty classroom. I glanced at the clock, just as the door burst open. My fingertips stopped abruptly, cutting short my rhythm. I glanced sharply at the door, only to be met with the hostile glares of my peers. They entered the room with all the caution of gladiators entering the Coliseum.
I stifled a grin. After all this time, they still think I’m psycho. I chuckled at their stupidity. Idiots.
I stayed silent and still as our teacher, Mr. Wenton, entered the room.
“Good morning class. I’m handing back your assignments.”
Whispers filled the classroom. My classmates were panicked, curious, anxious- so many emotions from just one statement. I rolled my eyes. Get on with it!
“Alright, quiet down! Some of you did very well-” He broke off, having lost the class’s attention. Every head had turned to a person sitting at the back of the room. I didn’t have to look. I already knew who they were gawking at.
Rose.
“Excuse me!” The teacher called. “Do you want to know your scores or not?”
The class reluctantly turned back to our teacher.
“Very well.” He approached my desk. The class watched with bated breath.
“Well done Delilah. Top of the class!” He said, handing me a paper. Scrawled in red at the top right hand corner of the page was 100%. I looked up and grinned happily. He smiled back and moved on. I glanced around. Everyone at the surrounding desks were staring at me in shock.
I was smiling widely and considering a sarcastic comment when the door once again burst open. Annoyed at the distraction, I turned towards the doorway, and felt my jaw drop. Lounging against the doorframe was a lean male, with long, long legs and a small smile on his face. He swiftly walked into the class, heading towards Mr. Wenton, who was now at the back of the room.
I looked away quickly, not wanting him to notice me. No such luck. As he passed my desk, he knocked my pencil case. I turned in time to see it fly off my desk, hit the ground and burst open. Its contents spilled everywhere.
He bent down and started scooping up pencils. I was about to join him when he picked up something and paused. I froze, too shocked to move. It was my doll. The one I had made in Arts and Crafts, the one I had named so lovingly after Rose... before defacing it.
I stared at my doll, its pins shining in the harsh light. The male was staring at the injuries I had inflicted to it. His gaze flickered to the back row before he met my eyes. I winced. He noticed the resemblance.
I became aware of a roaring silence. I looked around slowly. My peers all had their eyes trained on the scene unfolding in front of them. I swallowed and felt a blush colour my cheeks. The real Rose stared at the doll, her mouth hanging open, before turning to her friend sitting next to her and unleashing a torrent of whispers. I felt dizzy with embarrassment. I yanked the doll out of the unwanted grasp and stuffed it in my pocket. The male finished picking up my things and returned my pencil case. I ignored him, and class continued in silence.
That night, I almost ripped the head off of the stupid doll. It just made everything so much worse. I ended up stabbing it with a few more pins, just to let it be known exactly how I felt about it. If anyone asks, I decided, it was a pincushion.Quote by George Bernard Shaw The New KidIn the long run, there are no secrets... the universe will not cooperate in a cover-up.
Everyone was wary of the new kid, as he was so kindly called. He didn’t make an effort to join in with any group, but preferred going solo. Despite this, I did catch him watching Rose every now and then, and the sight made my stomach knot. Because that was exactly what we needed, wasn’t it? Another Rose fan.
Meanwhile, the word had spread. A doll that looked like Rose had been mutilated, not by a sadistic puppy killer, but by me. All I had to do was enter a room, and silence would meet me. I walked down corridors and everyone disappeared. There were no more snide comments. I think everyone in school may have been terrified of me. Once I walked into the bathrooms and a girl ran out screaming. It may have fazed an ordinary person, but I’ve had worse. A lot worse.
It was the last day on the first week of this new regime that I finally had some actual human contact. But even though it was from the person who actually started all of this, I realised I didn’t care. I wanted someone to talk to me, even if it was just him.
It was in Language. I was struggling over foreign vowels, verbs and adjectives when a little folded note appeared in my lap. I scooped it up and looked around the room. There, on a table not far from me, was the new kid. I glared at him, daring him to look away. He raised one eyebrow and looked pointedly at the note in my hand. I narrowed my eyes before unfolding it. There was a single sentence written on it in a small, neat hand.
Does it have a name?
I glanced at him before scrawling a big question mark over the note.
I threw it back to him. He picked it up and scribbled once again. He checked for teachers and returned it.
Well, I assume it’s not just a pincushion. May I suggest a name that starts with an R?
My stomach dropped. Play dumb, play dumb!
Nope. Its name is-
An ordinary name! I struggled to think one up. He saw me falter and grinned. Daisy! I quickly finished the sentence.
Nope. Its name is Daisy.
I chucked it back at him. He scanned it, and smiled wider. He looked up and met my eyes, before tapping the empty seat beside him. My heart leapt into my throat. But, being the obedient person I am, I got up, crossed the room and sat next to him. He smiled at me, and I looked back, face expressionless. He saw this and leant in, secretive. Our noses were now only a few centimetres apart. Close up, I realised his eyes were actually a murky hazel.
“Daisy? Well, does Daisy’s owner have a name?” he asked softly.
I nodded. “That would be Delilah Smith. And yours?” I shot back, eyeing him harshly.
“Will Connor. Nice to meet you Delilah. But there’s one thing that’s confusing me.” He tilted his head to one side, his eyes trained on my face.
“And what’s that?” I said, keeping eye contact.
“Well, our good old friend William Shakespeare once said something. Along the lines of ‘would a rose smell any less sweet if called by any other name?’. Or something like that.”
I choked. He knew. “I don’t think the quote is quite right.”
“But am I on the right track?”
I studied him. His lazy grin, big eyes and thick lashes... I gave a curt nod and got up swiftly.
“Awww, come on! Don’t go!” He wrapped his fingers around my wrist, in an effort to keep me from leaving. I stared at his wide and pleading eyes for a moment. His grip loosened and I wretched my wrist out of his hold, before returning to my seat, head held high.
As soon as I got home, I retrieved the doll form its hiding place under my bed. I brushed a curl of yarn off of its face and adjusted the pins.
“How are you today, Rose?” For once, I didn’t feel any anger towards the small burlap doll. I even gave it a little cuddle before returning it to its hiding spot. Quote by Arthur C. Clarke Year Books and Aggravation It is not love that is blind, but jealousy...
I loved second-period sport. Not too early, but not too late. I loved pushing my body to its limits, seeing how hard I could go. This lesson, it was athletics- my idea of a good time. I enjoyed running to no end, I was always happy with my legs pounding underneath me, I felt strong and amazing, with the wind blowing through my hair…
We stood on the oval, all dressed and ready for sport. Our teacher, Ms. Palciner, blew her whistle, and beckoned towards the class. We surrounded her, and she began a run-through of the activities we were to complete. She finished, and headed towards the athletics track. My heart leapt, and I hurried along behind her, ahead of the rest of the class. I was eager to start running.
First was the 50m sprint. Six of us lined up in our separate lanes. I glanced to my left and right, checking out the competition. I was in the middle lane, and couldn’t see the people on the end. Not that it mattered. I was a good runner, and I knew it.
Ms. Palciner indicated we were going to start soon. I patted my pocket, making sure a certain burlap doll was safe. I kept her with me at all times now, worried of a repeat of that English lesson. I adjusted my baggy sport shorts, and straightened my t-shirt, before getting into position. My heart began to beat fast, as though it was about to run its own race. Ms. Palciner called out, then raised her whistle to her lips. I readjusted my weight, ready to push off. There was a bang, and I leapt forward, pumping my legs.
I went hard, faster than ever before. I ignored everyone and everything, focusing only on that white line that signified the end of the race. I was a metre away from the finish line, half a metre, 30 centi-
A loud cheer ruined my concentration, and I looked up suddenly, stumbling across the finish line. Reality came back and hit me in the stomach, hard. I stopped, doubled up and gasping for breath.
I hadn’t won. I hadn’t been the best. I hadn’t got the title that I deserved. No. There was someone else, someone who was now being clapped and cheered, someone with bouncy brown locks and a good figure, long lean legs…
Rose.
She’d beaten me at my own game.
I felt horrified, ill… my head spun and my knees wobbled beneath me, no longer capable of supporting my weight. The world went black and I crumpled.
Something cold hit my face. I gasped and sat up, startled. A worried person swum into view. It was Ms. Palciner. Crouched down beside me, she held an empty water bottle. I wiped my wet face.
“Del, are you okay?” She asked, reaching out to grab my shoulder.
“Oh… yeah. I think. What happened?” I said faintly.
“You blacked out. Gave us quite a scare.” She smiled, indicating the rest of the class, who were now crowding around us, trying to catch a glimpse of me. Ms. Palciner helped me up, and led me over to a bench next to the athletics track, where she made me stay for the rest of the lesson. I had to watch everyone else having fun, but wasn’t allowed to join in. I was relieved when it was time for class to finish. I was first into the change rooms.
I swapped clothes quickly. I noticed Rose hovering around where I dressed. Not in the mood for her dumb comments or stupid smile, I hurriedly scooped all of my belongings into my bag, before rushing out of the room. As soon as I appeared in the busy hallway adjoined to the change rooms, the noise level dropped and I was left with a wide, empty space surrounding me. I sighed, annoyed.
It had been a week since Will spoke to me, and I was craving more contact. I regretted walking away from him, for he was the only one who wasn’t afraid to meet my eyes. At the same time, my stomach twisted at the very thought of talking to him. What would I say?
I walked along the hallway, ignoring the people scurrying away from me. It was time for lunch. My stomach rumbled as I entered the lunchroom. There were more than enough tables in the large area, and many of them were already full of talking and happy people, swapping both lunches and juicy gossip. The conversations were louder and more excited than usual that day, the reason for which I soon discovered. Yearbooks. I saw flashes of blue covers, signed pages and school photos everywhere as I headed towards the deserted table at the back of the room that was always reserved for me.
I dropped my sandwich at the end seat, and was ready to sit down when I heard someone calling my name. I looked up to see Mr. Wenton hurrying towards me, yearbook in hand.
“Delilah! You forgot to pick this up from the office! It’s your copy.” He handed me the glossy blue book. I looked at it. I didn’t forget to pick it up- I just didn’t want it.
“Thanks Mr. Wenton.” I said, feigning a smile.
“Anytime Delilah, anytime.” He smiled at me before walking away. He was soon swallowed up by the loud masses.
Ignoring my lunch, I sat down and began to skim through the yearbook. Nothing caught my attention until I flipped to a page dedicated to the Sports Carnival. I scanned the pictures and writing, looking for a mention of me. I had come second in the 100 metre sprint. There was a photo in the bottom right hand corner that caught my eye.
Delilah Smith (100m silver medallist) with twin brother Nic and best friend Rose Andrews (100m gold medallist), read the caption. There, on that very page, was me grinning like a lunatic, arms around Rose and Nic, who were both laughing. Me and Rose were wearing our medals, with Nic pointing at mine. I remember how I felt that day, just after the race, and how I had felt less than an hour ago. Beaten, disappointed... once again in second place to her. Tears welled up in my eyes.
I blinked them away quickly, but not quickly enough. The hair on the back of my neck stood up, and I knew I was being watched. I looked up and searched the room- there. Rose and Nic themselves were surveying me, along with the rest of their table. Nic had his arm around Rose’s back, his eyes mocking. I glared at them, anger clouding my thoughts. How dare they? How dare they even look at me after what they did?
Again, I felt sick, disgusted. In that split second, I relived everything they had done to me. The hurt, the tears, the jealousy… the jealousy that just won’t leave! It burned in my stomach, tore at my soul, and was always there, nagging, in the back of my head! I almost screamed in frustration, but forced myself to calm down.
Keeping eye contact, I slowly tore the page out of the yearbook. I held it up so they could see exactly what page it was. They recognised it, and I watched two sets of eyebrows shoot up. I grinned wolfishly and slowly, evilly, tore the page in half. Rose’s eyes widened. I tore it in half again and again, until I was only left with tiny little pieces of paper. I scooped them up and blew hard across my hand, sending a small blizzard of paper in their direction. The paper fluttered around my table. I pouted mockingly at them, only to be met with angry glares. Rose smirked and whispered in Nic’s ear, before reaching into her pocket. She pulled out a small burlap object... brown curly hair, green button eyes... fabric flapped… pins shone in the florescent light...
Their table burst out laughing, all eyeing me. My mouth opened in surprise. I must have left Rose behind in the change rooms… The real Rose had taken her… The whole cafeteria went silent, staring in shock at the doll. Rose wriggled it, her eyes full of scorn, and Nic patted its small head.
You BASTARDS!
I stood up, seething. I hurried towards their table, vision blurring. I was ready to tear every single one of them into shreds, just like the paper, destroy them, kill them all-
Two strong arms wrapped themselves around my waist, halting me. I twisted around, growling.
“Let go of me, you fu-” I stopped.
I was looking up into Will’s hazel eyes. He was holding onto me tightly, but I wasn’t struggling anymore. He didn’t meet my gaze, but was instead glaring over my head at Nic and Rose. He moved me to one side, and let go. I stayed where he left me, stunned, while he walked through the now muttering crowds, and over to where Rose and Nic sat. He plucked the doll from their slack hands, and tossed it back to me. I caught it gratefully.
Will eyed Nic angrily, and Nic glared back.
“What do you want, weirdo?” Nic said, voice full of annoyance.
It was enough incentive. Will hit Nic in the face. Hard. The whole room gasped as one, including me. Nic recoiled, and his table crowded around him. No one tried to throw any punches at Will, though.
I rushed forwards to where Will stood, massaging his knuckles. I grabbed his sleeve with my free hand and turned him towards me.
“What the hell was that?” I asked, voice shrill.
Will looked at me like I was being stupid.
“That was a punch, Delilah.”
I giggled, but was distracted by an angry cry. It was Mr. Wenton.
“Will Connor! You are coming with me, young man!” Mr. Wenton grabbed Will by the collar and dragged him out of my grasp. I was left standing alone, listening to Nic’s complaining and Rose’s frantic sobbing. I smiled unkindly at them before following Mr. Wenton’s path out of the cafeteria, ignoring the cries and murmurs that surrounded me.
The corridors beyond the lunch hall were empty. I leant against a set of empty lockers, and pulled Rose out of my pocket. I stroked her hair and made sure she wasn’t damaged. And then I started to giggle. I couldn’t help it. Nic’s shock when he was hit, Rose’s reaction- it was hilarious! They finally got what was coming to them. My loud chuckles echoed in the corridor, my knees gave way, and soon I was sitting on the ground, weak with laughter. My head was light and my sides were aching.
The bell for next period sounded. Regretfully, I had to get up and head for class. I put Rose back in her rightful place, being my pocket, and hurried to my locker, grinner harder than I ever had before.
-----
I met up with Will after school. He was waiting just outside of the school gates. People passed him, averting their eyes and muttering. The sight made me smile.
“Hey. What happened?” I asked, meeting him.
“Detention for a week. I told the principal I was provoked, but didn’t tell him why.” Will glanced at me.
“Thank you.” I murmured, looking away. Will smiled.
“Your brother though... he’s threatening to tell "mummy.”
I giggled. “He would. He is such a sook.”
Will started to walk, and motioned me to follow him. “Not worried?”
“Nope. It wasn’t me who hit him.” I walked alongside Will.
“Fair point. Got Rose?” He asked, and I started to explain that I wasn’t evil, or crazy. He cut me off.
“No, don’t. She’s a cow. She deserves all the crap she gets.” Will stopped walking. “This is where we split.” He indicated a road branching off the street we stood on.
“Okay. I’ll see you tomorrow.” I said quietly, and continued on my way home.
I couldn’t wait to see the damage Will had done to Nic. Finally, victory was mine. The burning flame of jealousy in my stomach had been, for now, reduced to a mild spark. Quote by Laurence Durrell Walking Rainbows, Laughter and PlotsOne doesn't have a sense of humour. It has you.
I slinked out of the front door, trying to remain inconspicuous. The feeble morning light peered out from a slight layer of clouds.
“Hey.”
I jumped and turned to my left. It was Will, leaning against our fence, his grin at least ten times brighter than the sun. I smiled back, an involuntary reaction. A bang and shout sounded from the closed door behind me, accompanied by the sound of stomping feet. I flinched, grabbed Will’s hand and began to run down the driveway, dragging him along. He got the gist and began to run too, snorting with laughter. He stopped at the end of the street.
“What’s all this about?” He asked, smiling down at me. I opened my mouth to answer, but it snapped shut just as quickly. I looked at my left hand. It was still entwined with his. I tugged it back.
“Nic. He’s pissed.”
Will laughed hard, a loud, happy sound. I rolled my eyes and began to stomp off, not in the mood. He caught my wrist and I spun around. He was silent for a moment, thinking.
“What’s his problem?” He eventually murmured.
“You.”
“Ah.” He let go of me, and we began to walk again, side by side. The sun was fighting its way through the clouds, trying to saturate the world in its light. A ray hit Will’s slightly curly brown hair. I watched the sun shimmer on it, trying to identify the colours that glimmered in the glow.
“Delilah?” Will broke the comfortable silence and crashed my train of thought. My eyes snapped back to the ground.
“Mhn?”
“I’m sorry, but I have to know. How bad is it? The bruise?”
I looked up at Will. His eyes were wide, innocent. I sighed.
“We’re nearly at school. You can see for yourself.” I replied. Will nodded and looked away.
We entered the school gates just as the school bus pulled up. I shuddered internally as I watched my peers hurry off it. I didn’t ever want to take it again; walking to and from school with Will was far too good, even if did hurt my legs. It actually made going to school somewhat… enjoyable.
I saw people stare as Will and I walked through the school grounds together. I heard their mutters, felt their fear. They gaped freely, unashamed. We were the two most unpopular people in the school; me, the sick doll destroying freak, and Will, the psycho new kid who attempted to hit Nic Smith’s nose back into his brain. Naturally, the whole school watched Will’s every move, waiting for him to snap and maul someone in front of their very eyes. The thought made a small giggle rise in my throat; I bit my lip to hold it back, studying my feet.
Suddenly, I felt a change in the atmosphere, one so strong it was like a punch in the stomach… or should I make that a punch in the face? It would seem only fitting, because the one person whom I wanted to see least in the world was strutting towards us. He stopped, only a metre away from where Will and I stood, tensed and ready for the upheaval.
“What do you want?” I asked, battling more giggles as I stared at Nic’s damaged face for what felt like the twentieth time since yesterday afternoon. It seemed to look funnier each time. I heard Will whistle, low and proud. I glanced at him, and saw he too was trying to suppress laughter. My gaze flickered back to Nic. Will really had punched him hard. His nose was slightly swollen, and it was so many colours it could be mistaken for a misshaped rainbow. Patches of green, red, blue and brown covered his face. Purple rings decorated his lower eyelids and cheekbones.
I felt trembling beside me. Panicked, I turned to Will. He was biting his lip, trying to fight the smile on his face. He was shaking with silent chuckles. He caught my eye briefly, but it was enough. I grinned widely and nudged him, causing a snort to escape his mouth.
A small circle had formed around our little showdown. It was mostly composed of curious bystanders and Nic’s lunch group. I spotted movement out of the corner of my eye, and saw a head of brown curls. Rose was flitting through the group, in an attempt to get closer to Nic.
“I want a few words with Will, if you wouldn’t mind.” Nic murmured, glaring at him. He looked so ridiculous. I fought down a snigger and also looked at Will. He pressed his lips together in a hard line, humour burning in his eyes.
“Sure.” He managed to choke out.
“I don’t appreciate what y-” Nic began.
It was too much already. Will and I practically exploded. The onlookers stared as Will roared with laughter, and I giggled hysterically. Nic narrowed his eyes, which made me laugh harder. The sound echoed through the otherwise silent schoolyard. I clung to Will’s arm, trying to stay upright. I felt light-headed and dizzy, and my sides were burning with every breath.
I soon came back to Earth with a jolt. I sobered up quickly, realising that a huge crowd of people were watching me laugh myself silly. Will seemed to share this thought, and his chuckles died down. I straightened up and looked at Nic. The hate that resonated in his eyes made my stomach drop. I glanced at Will. He was wiping tears of laughter off his cheeks.
“Could not do that with a straight face.” He said, staring at Nic again.
“So, you were saying?” I asked Nic hurriedly. His gaze flickered to me, then back to Will. He once again opened his mouth to speak, but his first words were drowned out by a dull ringing.
I grabbed Will’s shirt sleeve and tugged on it, hard. He met my eyes, and nodded, allowing me to tow him out of the circle of watchers. They all muttered and groaned; they were disappointed the bell had ruined their chance at a good fist fight.
-----
I was kind of looking forward to lunch. I wanted another confrontation, and I’m pretty sure Will did too. It was odd… I didn’t want a fight, and I didn’t want to initiate anything with Nic, but I wanted something to happen.
Lunch turned out to be a major disappointment. All Nic had done was drape his arm over Rose’s chair, then mutter harshly to his friends. They all leant into a huddle over the table, and shoot conspiring looks towards where Will and I sat together, away from our peers. It annoyed us to the point where Will and I exited the cafeteria side by side, dejected, and headed towards our next class early.Quote by Larry Gelbart NightmaresHistory is a nightmare from which I am trying awake...
We were walking down a corridor, laughing and smiling. We entered a classroom, still gossiping. We sat next to each other, passing notes. He was reading one I had handed him when the door opened. It caught everyone’s attention. In the doorway stood a slim girl, with brown curly hair and pretty green eyes. She smiled at the class, flashing big white teeth, before walking over to the teacher. I glanced at the male sitting at the desk next to mine. The note I handed him was crumpled, forgotten, in his hand.
Movement at the desk to the other side of me created a distraction. I turned sharply, and was instantly met with a beautiful green gaze. It was the new kid. She smiled at me.
“Hi. I’m Rose.”
“I’m Delilah.” I felt a sharp jab in my side. Nic got ready to elbow me again. “This is Nic. He’s my brother.” Nic gave a nod.
Rose and I talked and talked. That day, we had lunch together. Nic was there of course, but he didn’t join in. From that day on, Rose and I were inseparable.
We walked into English the next week. The teacher handed back sheets of paper. Assignments. I wasn’t worried, I was the top scorer in the class. I glanced at the score. 98%. I heard a squeal next to me. Rose had got 100%. She didn’t deserve it. She only got it because the teacher loved her, for reasons unknown to me.
It was the beginning of what was yet to come.
We were in Sport. Athletics. The starting gun went off, I leapt forward. Rose was next to me. I ran as fast as I could, pumping my legs. I crossed the finish line, chest heaving. It was no good. Rose had finished at least 10 seconds before me. I watched to one side as she jumped up and down happily. Nic wrapped his arms around her waist and spun her around. He whispered something in her ear before walking over to me.
“Well done, Del.” He hugged me tightly.
We were in Art, my favourite subject. I painted a canvas, colourful and bold. I heard a squeal of delight next to me. A group of girls were gathered around Rose’s work, pointing and saying how good it was. No one noticed me. The teacher walked over, and started going through Rose’s art book.
“This is amazing work. You have a lot of talent.”
Rose smiled modestly as she received full marks. From that day on, the teacher loved her. I worked harder than I ever had before to receive the marks I deserved, which were, ultimately, higher than Rose’s.
It was lunchtime. I was eating my sandwich. Rose was quiet. Nic had football tryouts. I looked at her, urging her silently to tell me what was wrong.
“I like Nic. And he likes me.”
I choked.
“Wh-what?” I said, feeling faint. I pushed my sandwich away, stomach churning.
“We’re going out.”
I got up, and walked away.
We were walking home. Nic and Rose were in front of me, holding hands and whispering. I trailed along behind them, alone. The sick feeling returned. They didn’t notice it though. They didn’t notice me at all.
The phone rang. I answered it. It was Rose.
“Hey, want to go shopping on the weekend? You can spe-“
“Actually, I want to talk to Nic.” She said, cutting me off.
I stopped talking, shocked. I handed the phone to Nic, before running to my bedroom, in tears. From then on, whenever Rose called, I didn’t even say hello. I just handed the phone to Nic.
Nic and Rose now walked to school together. I left without them about a week after they started going out, getting on the school bus to escape them. I would have preferred to be alone than with them. That day, at lunch, they approached me.
“What is your problem?” They both asked.
“I’ve lost a best friend and my brother.”
“No, you haven’t. We’re still here.” Nic said.
“It’s just..” Rose started, then paused.
“Just what?” I asked, irritated,
“We… we prefer each other’s company now. We like being with each other.” Rose said.
I once again got up and walked away.
The jealousy got worse. Not only had she taken my place in class, but she had taken my brother. They ignored me now, and if they happened to look my way, their faces would contort into ugly masks.
I felt the anger, hatred and jealousy fill up my stomach. The jealousy was the strongest emotion of all. It rose in my throat, escaped my mouth, and in the form of a scream echoed around the space, and most of all, my head, the pain got worse and worse, the screaming wouldn’t stop-
A loud cursing jolted me from my nightmare. I sat up quickly, fumbling for my alarm clock. It was 2 o’clock in the morning. A scuffling caught my attention, and I squinted into the darkness that filled my bedroom. I saw the faint outline of a person, still flailing around my bedroom. I drew the bed covers around me, frightened, and then paused.
“N-Nic?”
The person stopped. I reached for my bedside lamp and flicked it on. There, going through my wardrobe while I slept, was Nic, his face still bearing the signs of Will’s attack. I was shocked- Will had hit him four days ago.
“What are you doing?” I asked in a low hiss. Our mother was sleeping in the next room; amazingly, she didn’t know anything about the war Nic and I were having, or about the doll, which was now under all the clothing in my dirty laundry pile. Mum thought Nic had sustained the horrific bruising on his face from a football tackle gone wrong.
Nic merely stood, his eyes flickering from my open wardrobe to me. It clicked.
“You- you were… you…” I couldn’t finish my sentence. He was looking for Rose. The planning by his table at lunch for the last three days… they were going to make him take the doll, so they could use it against me again. I glared angrily at Nic. He took an automatic step back, but it was of no use.
“Why the hell were you going through my closet?” I growled at him. He remained silent.
“Tell me right now, or I’ll give you a bruise to match the pretty one on your face. Only it will be much lower, and you’ll be peeing blood for months.” I hissed, voice filled with venom. He visibly blanched.
“I- I’m looking for the doll.”
“And why would you be doing that?” I asked, slowly getting out of bed and taking a step towards him.
He refused to answer. I took another step towards him. He stood his ground this time.
“I’ll tell you what. Go away, and never come back into my room again, you perverted b*****d, and I’ll reconsider my thoughts of kicking you so hard you’ll feel it for years. Got it?” I asked, menacingly.
Nic shook his head. “No.”
I snarled, and advanced on him until we were nose to nose. I glared right into his brown eyes, ones that looked so much like my own. “Why not?”
“Because you can’t hurt me, or I’ll let it be known what you were just moaning in your sleep.” He looked triumphant.
“Excuse me?”
Nic put on a high, silly voice. “No, why, Nic, why? Why not me? What does she have that I don’t?” He paused, watching my reaction. I stood stock still, head spinning.
“That’s it, isn’t it? You’re jealous!” Nic said, softly mocking me. “Do you want me to answer your question, Del? Rose is so much better you in so many ways- she’s a good runner, she’s smart, and she’s pretty. She’s a talented writer and artist. All the boys in school want her, but I have her. She’s mine, and I’m hers. She only hung around with you to get to me. Like she would want to be your friend. Like anyone would want to be your friend. Because you, Delilah Alice Smith, are absolutely nothing.” He spat at me.
“What?” I asked, the anger and jealously from my dream once again flaming in my stomach. It was getting too much. I was having trouble breathing. I tried to control the flow of air to my lungs, screwing up my eyes. Nic took his opportunity and moved a little bit closer, so he could stand over me.
“You are nothing to me, or to anyone. You are worth absolutely zero. You have no purpose in this world.”
I looked up to meet his gaze. His eyes were glinting maliciously. I couldn’t believe this person, the one who shared both my blood and DNA, was telling me this. Rose couldn’t be better than me… could she? I fought back the tears prickling at the corners of my eyes.
“You’re wrong. I mean something to someone, and that’s all I care about.” I murmured.
“Who? Your precious Will? He’s worth about as much as you are.”
That was it. I reared my hand back, and slapped my palm hard across his face, hitting his already tender cheekbone. He recoiled, just like he had when Will hit him, and quickly turned, stalking out of my room, still clutching his cheek and uttering harsh insults and curses. I paused, listening. Mum was still snoring. I closed my bedroom door, turned off my light and returned to the warmth of my bed, where I finally let the tears flow.
Now it had been confirmed, now I was told, I knew I had been right all along. Rose was better than me. I choked on my bitter sobs, trying to muffle the sound with my pillow. The envy in my stomach was uncontrollable, unbearable. I felt desperate, lost and alone. The jealousy was suffocating, and my breathing still came out in little gasps. This was too much. The sobbing quieted a little, but still continued, and my breathing became even shallower as I drifted off into an uneasy and fitful sleep. Quote by James Joyce
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
