I draw the people I hate at school. I hear the gossip, I hear the lies but I draw what my own eyes see. And I see the embarrassing, devastating, beautiful secrets my peers all try to hide. I had quite the collection of illusions; a sketchbook full o...
Alys (uh-lease), other common spelling is Elise. (Again- NOT pronounced Alice. Pronounced Elise/uh-lease/Alys)
Hayden (Hey- Den)
You are about to read a story that still needs to be edited. Please be aware and understanding, I will get to them when I have a chance. I am dyslexic, please be patient with me.
Name change as of 03/24/2020. Previous name "Just Smile and Nod"
Cover photo designed and digitally painted by me. Thank you
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P r o l o g u e
I draw the people I hate at school. I see the masks everywhere, just walking down the halls with their falsified personalities; their projected smiles and charms... even though secretly, behind each other's backs, they're cheating and spreading rumors and destroying the other's social status. And then I see them in the bathrooms, crying and puking up the last of what is already nauseating cafeteria food; because word got around that they gained weight or that they didn't have a perfect body.
And there I sit, watching point blank, as this disturbing and chaotic institute houses all these hormonal schizophrenics, still convincing us all it's a high school and not Asylum. Those fabricated and altered personas around me seem to be never ending. Perhaps directors and movie producers should come here for their casting roles. Our drama club sucks ass, but the fake smiling masks and happy giddy girls that walk arm in arm are the masters of the deceiving world.
Of course I see through all of this, not that it's that hard, because I've been here from start to finish. I've grown up with these persons around; have watched their ever changing evolution of lies. Some harmless, but most nauseating none the less. They all seem so scared to show who they truly are- which is why I draw them exactly as that. I draw you because I can see you...
The noise that surrounded me just increased louder as people tried talking over each other in order to be heard. A dozen voices mixed into the air and only slight random words distinguished themselves against the rumble.
I heard it all, bits and pieces of it, but enough to know what was circulating the school. Most of it was fake; Shannon didn't get a breast augmentation. Her father might be rich and spoil her, but their relationship was becoming strained. Why wouldn't it? He was disturbed that his daughter was becoming replicas of his never ending young and lustrous girlfriends.
And even worse, that his own very friends were looking at his daughter in a whole new light now that she evolved her persona lasciviously.
In reality, her bra was padded with those gelatin balloon enhancers that were sold in the lingerie department. I heard her friends freaking out one day because one ruptured and was leaking thanks to a flying locker, and her left breast shrunk down to a B.
