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Chapter 23: Sitting

I stared in horror as I stared at the blank wall in front of me. It. Was. Gone. Two years worth of insults, rumors, and hideously funny pictures of me were gone, replaced by the boring, beige paint the rest of the school was coated in.

I clenched and unclenched my fists, blood churning from inside of me. I’ve waited two weeks to come back to school to read the stupid wall and now it’s blank.

Why did the school board suddenly care about vandalism? The discussion boards have been here ever since my sophomore year. Even the teachers didn’t seem to care about it. I’ve seen some teachers writing on them as well.

What’s changed since last year that the school suddenly cares?

“Surprise!” the change, otherwise known as Holly, stepped through the restroom door with all of her morning peppiness. “Isn’t it beautiful?” she asked, standing next to me and staring at the wall as if it was a piece of art. That was the way I used to look at it . . . before they painted over its glory.

“Holly . . . what did you do?” I asked through clenched teeth, trying to stay calm. I tried my best not to snap. I was already in a bad enough mood from having to go back to school. The slightest thing could probably set me off now.

Holly, apparently unaware of my anger continued to stare at the wall in amazement. “I got rid of all those negative thoughts about you,” she said proudly.

“Why?” I asked slowly, still trying to hold back my fury.

“Because they were horrible things to say about someone,” Holly responded. She gazed at me a moment, sensing that something was wrong. “Are you okay, Rena? You look a little . . . angry,” she finally noted.

I didn’t reply. Instead, I breathed in and out, counting to ten, trying to calm myself. I tried to tell myself that Holly was just doing this because she’s concerned, but still, rage was bubbling inside of me.

“Rena?” Holly said hesitantly, finally aware of my state of emotional unbalance.

“Just leave me alone,” I said bit harsher than I meant to.

“Re—”

“Go,” I ordered, pointing to the door, not bothering to face her anymore. I let out a sigh as I heard the bathroom door close. Two stinking year’s worth. Gone. Flushed down the toilet—pun not intended.

Maybe I was a little harsh with Holly. I understood where she was coming from and I could tell that she genuinely cared about my well-being, but it wasn’t any of her concern.

I paced the bathroom floor, stopping every once and a while to stare at the destroyed wall. Then it suddenly hit me. What if I started it back up?

Of course, if I wrote something about myself, it wouldn’t be as a big deal within the halls of Willow Heights. No, if I wanted to start the wall back up, I’d have to write something about the most popular girl in school, who everyone likes.

The only person that came to mind was Holly . . . student body president, president of the Mathletes, and probably the president of some other club. I swear, I don’t think anyone hates the girl.

But I couldn’t . . . could I?

I shook the thought out of my head. That would be horrible of me. I don’t think I could be considered to have a soul if I did that. I hesitated. Should I really do this at all?

“Come on, Rena. It’s for the greater good,” I muttered, pulling a sharpie from my backpack.

Before I could change my mind, I wrote big and clearly on the wall adjacent the walls that used to be mine.

Olivia should go live with monkeys since she already has that much hair on her upper lip. - Serena Davidson

Olivia was the typical head cheerleader at Willow Heights. She was bitchy, mean, and a whore, but sure enough the majority of the girls wanted to be her and all the guys wanted to be with her.

The point of the wall was to have a bunch of anonymous comments on a specific person, but since I signed it with my name, shit is bound to happen and my beautiful wall will be restored.

Feeling calmer than before, I put my sharpie back into my backpack and walked out of the bathroom. As if by fate, Olivia walked right into me once I stepped out of the door.

“Watch it, freak,” she sneered, bumping me aside. Her minions all laughed at her “oh-so funny” insult and gave me looks, which I replied with an eye roll.

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Twenty-Three: Sitting

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