Okay so here is a part from my story “LIFE OF A DEAD GIRL”. I am posting the first few paragraphs from the first chapter:
Alexia
8:00 AM
Every school morning is the same. So is every school day. It’s been this way for all my life since first grade. It’s still the same in high school.
I get up, get ready, eat breakfast and head out the door with my twin sister, Jessica. I don’t expect anything good from anyone but my twin sister, Jessica, and cousin, Cornelia, my only friends. It’s always been this way. All my life, ever since first grade.
I’m now walking down the halls of Ghastly Dale High. Really my school is called Crimson River High. Our town is named after the river that flows through it. They call the river Crimson River because of the clay and silt that makes the water different shades of red.
People whisper behind my back when I walk by. They make rude jokes about me. I’m used to it. It’s been happening to me for ten years.
I don’t know the real reason why people spread false rumors about me or do those other nasty things. Is it the way I always dress in dark colors? No. The way I look? Maybe. I think that the real reason is because of Hillary Humpfree. I call her Hillary Humpfreak. She was the popular girl in elementry school in our grade, every year. She was also the most popular girl in middle school. She still is today in our junior year in high school. Always the It girl.
In kindergarten, my sister and I started school a little late because we came back late from our vacation. Hillary right away became friends with me. We had lots of fun together. I miss those times. Then one day she didn’t play with me so much any more. In first grade, she let me hang out with her and join in her games. But not with out making me the low life. She always has to be the top, the important one, the queen. Once we pretended to be a pack of wild cats that just banded together. I loved playing the game, until Hillary kicked me out. Then she let me join again, but I was the lowest class. All I got to do was sit and watch all the action. Other people chose where I had to dig my snow den in the snow bank. They were never good places.
I wouldn’t mind the way she thinks she always has to be the important one if she didn’t make me the lowest being.
She even turn one of my friends against me. Kyle Slayver was my friend since we were both put at the bottom of the social pyramid in second grade. Hillary told something that was a downright lie to Kyle about me spreding a rummor in sixth grade. He’s hated me ever since.
My first class is with the witch, Hillary. Just seeing her makes my insides burn with the flames of hate.
She’s gossiping about some other poor person. When I take my seat by her I can hear her conversation with one of her minions, Laura, more clearly.
“That new girl is such a loser,” Humpfreak says in her annoy, mean popular girl voice. “She ran into me in the hall and made me drop my cell phone. Now theres a huge spot where the paint got scratched off.”
I sneak a look at the small white spot where there used to be paint, when Hillary shows it to Laura.
“You can hardly see the paints missing,” I say quietly to myself.
Hillary turns her bottomless pits of doom eyes at me. Her long, straight, jet black hair spins around her when she turns to face me.
“No one asked your opinion, Freak!” the way she said freak told me it was with a capital ‘F’.
“Makes you,” I say darkly under my breath.
Hillary sticks her little, evil pink tounge out between her strawberry pink glossy lips. Very mature, Hillary. Very mature, I think to myself.
If everyone judged people about how they treat people, Hillary would be at the very bottom of the pyramid.
When the bell rings at the end of class, I’m the last to leave. I stay just behind Hillary and Laura. They won’t notice me anyway. After all, I am the ‘low life lower than a peasant’ according to Hillary.
I don’t see Hillary again until lunch. I’m walking over to the table where my sister, cousin and their friends sit. Today lunch is spaghetti, mine has lots of the red sauce on it.
Hillary’s table is on my way to where I’m sitting. Just as I walk by she purposly sticks out her leg into my way, pretending to show her new shoes to some girl at the table behind her. I know she’s pretending because she doesn’t even like the girl she’s using as an excuse.
I don’t see Hillary’s high-healed foot until it’s too late and I’m already falling over, my lunch flying over me in what seemed like slow motion. My water bottle topples over where my spaghetti used to be. The noodles of my speghetti soar like small, yellow snakes covered in red blood. My garlic bread moves like a flying saucer and hits my back. The speghetti snakes cover my head and my back, a little gets on Hillary’s white blouse. I toss my tray up to catch myself as the ground rushes up to meet my face. I land in a push-up position with Hillary’s ankle under mine. I expect my tray to hit me on the head, but it never comes.
There is a shadow over my head. Looking up I see Kyle holding my tray in one hand like a waiter serving food. He looks down at me and reaches his other hand out to me.
I stare at him before I grab it. His face is blank but his eyes says it all.
“I still hate you but I’m still helping you,” they say.
Kyle pulls me up and hands me my tray. We stare at each other coldly before he pushes past me to get to his seat. All the tables around me, that have gone silent, are looking in the direction of the incident that Hillary purposly caused. All eyes are on me as I look at Hillary, my eyes burning with the flame of hate. She returns the same look as she stands up. I can hear some whispers at the tables closet to us. “She’s done it.” “That freak! She is so clumsy.” “Alexia is getting detention for sure.” The words all rise around me like a deathly mist under Humpfreak’s control.
“YOU!” Hillary’s voice is full of hate and anger, “YOU!”
I stare at her making my stare as unfriendly as I can. I can see a little fear in Hillary’s sky blue eyes.
“YOU RUINED MY BLOUSE!!” she shouts.
More tables are watching us now. I can here a few snickers from the senior girls nearby.
“You ruined your blouse,” I say darkly.
Hillary’s hands clutch into fist, her face starts to become a strawberry. I try my best to hold back a laugh. I think it’s hillarious when Hillary looks mad and tries to look good at the same time. That’s the problem with Hillary, she tries to be popular and cool when she just isn’t. It’s a miracle she made it this far as popular for a reputaion.
“What?!” Hillary says.
“You stuck your ant foot out to trip me. If you hadn’t done that your blouse would have been fine,” I say.
“Liar!”
“What ever you say your b****yness.” I say simply, “You ruined my leather more than that blouse. At least you can hide the stain with a sweatshirt.”
“You should pay for a new blouse,” Laura says, puckering her strawberry lips at the boy passing behind me. Most of the other tables have gone back to their conversations. The ones near Hillary’s clique’s table are still watching, whispering every now and then.
“She has enough money,” I say cooly, not taking my eyes off of the evil empiress in front of me.
Hillary is about to say something but I turn and leave before she says anything else. Empty, except for a water bottle and a brownie, I walk across the cafeteria with my tray, to my table where my only friends and their friends watch my arrival.
plz comment and tell me what you think! rate 1- 10 and why (or comment after rate number). THANK YOU!
MyDivaDoll 