Normal Teenage Girl

It is a fight that is forever continuing, as if it is a fight with a demon from another realm, or even a sniper on COD last night, except it kind of is like that. I'm a normal teenage girl, doing everything to try and stay alive through high school. I have the usual problems though, and it's not like World of Warcraft, where I could use a spell to blow someone up, or a poison to stun them. I'm just a normal teenage girl after all.

High school is my war zone, and I'm caught without ammo. I'm cut off from the rest of my platoon as far as I'm concerned. Left in my own solitude I have to fight the battles of a normal teenage girl.

That's how I was starting my paper for English class when one of the girls who hates my guts came up to me and tore the sheet from under my fingertips. I looked up at her with a look of disdain while she read off my paper dramatically, causing her friends to have a riot of girlish giggles that I could never mimic. I just sat in my seat and waited for her to give me my paper back, because my class was next hour, and if I pissed her off she'd more than likely rip it up.

She's the type of girl I battle with everyday. It's almost as if we're sparring partners and they buttered the floor before I could walk on it, landing me on my back. It isn't fair that they were all blessed with the beautiful long hair, effortless slender bodies, and money. But they are also paired with personalities so rotten that a decaying apple would taste sweet.

Eventually the girl gave me back my paper, except there was a new addition on it. A rocket ship.
If they weren't graduating this year, I'd stand up and show them how mean I could be. Ever since my freshman year I’ve been able to take down a middle aged man, so a couple of ditzy high school girls shouldn't be a problem. I could easily knock them all out with one punch each. I sighed and pulled out a clean sheet of paper and started rewriting my paper.

The bell rang and I rush to scribble the last few sentences. I could probably finish it before we have to turn it in, but I wouldn't count on it. My friends are in this class, Abby and Andrea. I sat down and speed wrote, while being ignored by those very people. I guess I'm not that popular today. Not like I've never been the bunt of that joke before. I tried to keep the scowl off my face while I write, tried to only tell my story, that I'm a normal teenage girl. Although, I don't know if normal is really the word for it.

Andrea stood right by me, so I tuned into her conversation as I wrote.

“Are you coming to my brother's open house? He would love for you to come! After all, he absolutely wants you.”

“That's disgusting Andrea. I would rather die. But it's a pool party right? I'll come for that.” I tried not to grunt in disapproval as her shallowness showed through. She always denies it.

“I guess that's okay!” Andrea replied back to Abby in her childish voice. “We'll probably be serving his friends during but we can swim after.” I was waiting for my invitation, but as usual I wasn't going to get one. The door creaked open as the teacher walked in, and the girls took their seats.

“Blah blah blah blah blah,” the teacher said. Actually, I'm paraphrasing. I wasn't paying a lick of attention as usual. My paper was almost done and I wasn't going to lose any time listening to her suck up to the preps so that her ego could be pet, like a kitten begging for attention.

As I was adding the finishing touches, my name being said drew my eyes up faster than a kid with an eating disorder could throw up a cupcake. Apparently while I was working on my paper everyone else turned theirs in. I know this teacher hates me. She collected it specifically because I was working on it.

While everyone had their eyes on me, I finished writing my paper. I can handle a little extra attention, not like I really give a damn about all these robots, wrapped in skin.

I finished it and turned it in, and the teacher moved on to her next thing. I picked up my book and read instead. I'd rather escape to the fighting of Greek mythology creatures than the fight inside myself.

I waited for the bell to ring, the clock ticking slower than the fattest marathon runner. Finally, I went home, where my parents were waiting for the lie I’d spin today.

My parents have always ask about my day, and I have told them the same thing everyday, every week, every month, every school year. “It was fine, I talked to someone new, I got a good grade on the test and I didn't even study.” Of course, the truth has always typed out on my iPod screen, scratched from my paint chipped nails, and smudged from the oils my sweaty hands built up. The truth is, I have to study so hard to get my grades, I hate everyone I see, and school sucks. I can't wait until I graduate.

I finished telling them about “my day” and then went up to my room. I have a huge mirror in there, where I picked myself apart, no matter what compliments I got. A battle raged in my mind, about the meat on my hips, the way my thighs look, if I should wear shorts, the acne on my back, chest, and face, and finally my hair. I hated everything about myself, yet I can't fix any of it. I've tried hard. It just doesn't work. After I finished doing that I went back downstairs to grab a water, when my iPod went off. Immediately my face lit up, and my bad day went to the back filing cabinet of my brain. I'll stew over it later.

I unlocked my screen, leaving a smudged finger print across the bottom of it. My TextNow app appeared, and started to load. The bright blue dot showed next to his name, and a thrill of excitement shot through my spine. He said hey, but along with his signature, I knew that his texts had more meaning. He thought I was really cute, and that's all I needed to know.

I replied back to him, saying “Hey what's up?:)” and hit send. I locked the screen, just in time for a notification that popped up saying “Sent to John.” I had a hint of a smile playing at my lips as I walked into my living room. I couldn't do much, because of the doctors' orders. Showed how much they actually know, I was perfectly fine as long as I didn't over stress my muscles.

I plopped down on the couch and unscrewed the cap of my water bottle. I impatiently waited for my reply . . .

The next morning was as usual. I woke up too late and didn't eat. I missed the bus and I stepped in mud. I even walked into first hour twenty minutes late. Of course everyone just had to stare at me, and they got the same reaction I always give. My teacher tried to get my attention with his focus on me, but I ignored it. I sat down in my chair and looked at the board, not even bothering to start taking notes. I already knew that today was going to be more like s*** than the crap my dog leaves in the yard. My iPod made a ding sound, and I inwardly groaned. I had forgotten to turn the sound down, and it had already connected to the school's wifi. The teacher paid mind for only a few seconds before going back to nagging us about the importance of biotechnology. I hurriedly turn the sound off and then looked at my message. It was just an ordinary message, not one that regular people would get excited about. However, I absolutely adored when I got thought about before the end of the school day.

I smiled, knowing that I shouldn't reply back, due to the attention that had already been drawled upon me. It was so tempting though, that I couldn't help it. I unlocked the screen and waited for the view to turn landscape, and then started typing back. I sent my message, smug with satisfaction, when a voice rang out from the students in the class.

“Mr. Woods!! Maria has her cellphone!!!!” Of course one of those girls had my class. Anna was the one yelling. She was the worst of the them and the skankiest. I growled in her direction while simultaneously trying to stash my phone in my pants. The teacher started stomping in my direction, and I leaned back into my seat, smug and waiting for him to demand to have my phone.

“Maria, give me your cellphone.” Mr. Woods tried to put a mean demeanor on his face and failed miserably. I looked up at him and a shot him a “over my dead body” look and flipped him the bird. He sighed and stalked to the button to call the office.

“If you don't give me your phone right now, I'll call the office and report the phone and the disrespectful attitude.” I kind of just looked at him, daring him to do it. He kept looking at me, as if I was going to back down from the being the bad kid. I never was really the bad kid though, just the one everyone always assumed would do bad things because I'm not a crowd pleaser.

Finally, he pressed the button. Mr. Woods reported me, over exaggerating every speck of a detail, until the point that I would probably get expelled. A few minutes later the school security guard showed up. Unfortunately it wasn't the cute college boy today, but it was the nasty, middle aged, perverted one. He looked at me greedily as I stood up from my chair and made my way to the front of the room. As I passed by Anna she looked at me like she won the war raging between us. I spit in her hair and kept walking as she starting screeching and crying, smirk plastered to my face. I was so going to pay for that later.

The security guard put his hand on my back and I mentally gagged. I so didn't want this man to touch me, or frankly come anywhere near me. He was probably hired straight from prison for being a sex offender. We walked down the hallways, and I made sure that we didn't go anywhere near a secluded area. I didn't trust this man. We kept walking until finally we reached the office. When I had actually looked at the security guard he looked like he was trying not to devour me, like a fat kid would a cupcake.

Disgusted, I rushed into the principal's office. I'd rather deal with a power hungry man than a perverted one any day. I sat down and waited for him to decide my punishment. I only had a week left before I would graduate, so I didn't really care what it was.

The principal acknowledged me after a few minutes and started going over my record. There wasn't much in there, just my attendance record, my 3.9 GPA, my straight A average, and a few minor infractions. I was a good kid throughout high school but some kids just didn't know when to leave me alone.

The principal looked at me and cleared his throat.

“Maria, I have some bad news.”

“Lay it on me princy.” I tended to call the principal princy because I thought it was better than half the things other people called him.

“You realize that bullying is a serious thing here at our high school?”

“Yeah? And you also never deal with when people bully me. Why, what's the big deal?”

“You spit on Anna. That is pretty serious.” Seriously? These girls have threatened me thousands of times over.

“So what's going to happen?” I asked suddenly paying attention to what the principal had to say.

“You're not graduating this year Maria. I can't allow it.” I sat there shocked. His bombshell made my heart pound so loud that I couldn't hear his next words.

“What did you say?”

“I'm sorry Maria, but you'll just have to graduate with next years class.” For a second I just sat there. Then I picked up my books and my bag, and I walked out of his office. He followed me for a moment, looked at me with satisfaction in his eyes.

“Go back to class now Maria. I'll give you your detention notice by the end of the hour.” Are you kidding me? I was not going to serve a detention and not graduate. I stood there for a few seconds more while he watched me. I turned around and walked out of the school.

I never looked back.

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