Fool Me Once, Shame on Me | Teen Ink

Fool Me Once, Shame on Me

January 5, 2016
By imahurricane SILVER, Brooklyn, New York
imahurricane SILVER, Brooklyn, New York
9 articles 0 photos 1 comment

     “We’re going to get into so much trouble,” I said nervously.
     “If we get caught. And we won’t, Marissa. Don’t be a chicken! You know what Nicole and her stupid little clique did to us. It’s time to get revenge,” replied my friend Sophia.
     I felt uneasy about this plan she put together. I had never egged a house in my life, and I hadn’t planned on doing it anytime soon. But she was right. I was many things, but a chicken wasn’t one of them.
     “Yeah, okay. Yeah, let’s do this” I murmured. And with that, Sophia and I came out from our hiding spot behind two trash cans. Each of us held a jumbo egg carton in our hands.
     Sophia took a deep breath and started counting-
     “One, two, three…GO!”
    I picked an egg out of the carton, and flung it toward Nicole’s cream colored house with all my might. The crack of the egg against concrete, the sweet sound of revenge- it was music to my ears. I let out a deep breath that I hadn’t realized I’d been holding. Instantly, I was hooked on this drug, this drug that fed my appetite for vengeance. Looking back now, that seems insanely melodramatic, but at that moment, a jumbo egg carton made me feel like the most powerful twelve year old in the world. I couldn’t stop. I flung egg after egg, pent up anger escaping my veins in the form of splattered yolk and cracked shells. The exhilaration of doing something rebellious for a change pushed away my fear of getting into trouble. I was unstoppable.

     And then I heard the sirens.

    The sound of approaching police cars snapped me out of my egg-throwing frenzy, and the carton slipped from my hands onto the ground. Suddenly, I was the same old Marissa who was afraid of missing a single homework assignment. The rebellious girl inside of me faded away quicker than a burning candle caught in a strong wind. Clenching and unclenching my sweaty palms, I turned around, but Sophia was nowhere to be found. Then, out the corner of my eye, I saw it- Sophia's blonde ponytail swishing as her dirty white sneakers carried her around the block, completely out of sight. My eyes widened and I could feel my heart lurch into my throat, suffocating me. I looked down to my right, where Sophia had stood only moments before. In her place lay an egg carton, in perfect condition. Out of the dozen, not a single was cracked. I couldn't believe it. No, I wouldn't believe it.
      I heard the police sirens grow louder and louder, but I couldn't even feel myself blink.
What are you doing? Move! Run! Are you crazy, Marissa? Are you crazy? Run!
Still, it was no use. It was like everything around me was moving at twice its speed, but I was the only one frozen in time. My feet were planted on the ground as if I had hundred pound weights tied around my ankles.
     It was too late. I heard cars pull up a couple feet behind me. I shut my eyes tightly, tears finally leaking through my lashes. This cannot be happening. This cannot be happening. This cannot be happening, Why would Sophia do this to me? What did I do to her? What did I do to deserve this? This cannot be-
     "Young lady, please remove yourself from the property before I am forced to remove you myself," boomed an authoritative voice.
     And it was then, at that exact moment, that I felt my naïveté come crashing down. My heart felt like glass, shattering into nightmares I wished I could whisper away with a single breath.
     
      I learned that Nicole and her family were actually out of town, and that it was Sophia who most likely called the cops on me, but everything after that comes in blurry flashes. There was something about vandalism and community service. There was something about “Hoping they wouldn’t press charges…” There was questioning, and tears, and phone calls made to my parents, and disappointment, and neighbors coming out of their houses to see what all the commotion was about, and more tears.

     But no Sophia.

    Months after the incident had passed, I realized she was never really my friend. Friends don't pretend to like you. Friends don't talk you into bad decisions. Friends don't hurt you for their own amusement, and throw you away like a used doll once the fun is drained out of you. Friends sure as hell don't stab you in the back with a knife when you turn away for a split second.

     But the thing is, Sophia didn't even have a knife. She had a jumbo egg carton.

     And a jumbo egg carton made her the most powerful twelve year old in the world.



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