voodoo doll // c.hood

02; the misfit girl

A M I T Y

High School. Society's bright idea to put all of their aggressive, naive youth into one environment to torment and emotionally scare each other for life. Probably not the world's best idea, if a good choice has ever been made by society, that is.

If everyone wasn't so caught up with pleasing each other so that they could fit in, I swear I might actually like school. To me, there is a large difference between being smart, and being intelligent. I wasn't book smart, and I wasn't the best at assignments and tests. But I was intelligent, and I had common sense. Which I think is a lot more valuable in this day and age.

But maybe I was old-fashioned, although frankly I don't give a fuck.

I am Amity Green, and you can save the 'colourful' jokes for later. I am seen as an outsider, a loser, a misfit. The girls at this school treat me like utter shit, constantly making jokes about the way I carry myself. A large percentage of the boys ignore me, and the rest of them think it'll be funny to hook up with me and then tell the whole student body about the pierced slut who is stupid enough to think someone would be interested in her.

And for those reasons, I like to keep to myself. I have a few friends, and they are all pretty loyal. I'd rather have a few strong friends, than a whole group of so-called friends who bitch about me behind my back. The word friendship has lost all of it's meaning to too many people in this world.

Take Holly Sawyers. Typical blonde bimbo with B cup boobs, pushing them out so they look like a DD cup. She used to put so much effort into her school work, and was the top of all her classes. She also was relatively nice, and used to give me no reason not to like her.

But then puberty hit her, like a ton of bricks. She dyed her hair, changed her clothes, got new friends, stopped caring about her grades, and forgot the innocent girl she once was.

I don't blame her. It's not as it she's the only one, Holly Sawyers was so original case. There is always a time in ones life when they change dramatically, for better or worse. Even me.

What happened to me? Why did I change from an innocent little girl who tolerated and respected everyone?

I realized how fucked the world was. I realized how messed up our society was. I realized that I didn't want to conform and be friends with people whose sole purpose in life was to fit in.

I decided that I would rather be known as a misfit than a follower.

I'm not one to be silenced much, and I'm certainly not known to back down easily. But when the little bimbo mentioned my family, and how much they despise me; the bitch hit a nerve.

I lean back into the bench as Michael handed me a cigarette. It sits comfortably between my two fingers and Michael flips open a lighter. A flame glowed and set my cigarette alight, slowly eating up the tobacco and shirking the cigarette in size.

I hold it in between my lips and inhale. Smoke escaped from my mouth as I breathe out.

Michael slumped an arm over my shoulders, bringing me closer to his side. "What's up? You only smoke when something's up." He questions, seeming concerned.

After blowing out more smoke, I answer, "Just the stress of being back at this god forsaken hell hole." I sigh and inhale smoke again, and blow it out the side of my mouth. "And the little demons which run around in it."

Michael laughs and nods slightly in agreement. "Don't forget the teachers," he adds. He takes out a cigarette for himself, holding it between his teeth as he lights it. "Bunch of tight-asses." He mutters.

Michael had dyed hair, I would say what colour but it changes so often it doesn't really matter. Right now it is a faded green, meaning it is due for a re-dye. He had ear piercings, as well as one in his eyebrow.

To say Michael was just a friend was an understatement. He wasn't just someone I used for his cigarettes and "connections", he was pretty much one of the only people I trusted in this world. This crummy and only-getting-worse world.

I put out the cigarette, twisting its lit bud against the bench, and I throw it into the bin.

Still tucked nicely under Michael's arm, my gaze wanders off to the groups situated around the court yard of the school.

I look past Holly and her clique of mindless followers, past the drug addicts, past the nerds, landing on a small group sitting on the grass.

Some soccer players, I think. I don't really know. One of them has a girl practically glued to their face. The other two are talking, well just the one. The other one doesn't seem that interested in the conversation. In fact, he seems to be looking in my direction. He looks oddly familiar. Where do I know him from? Oh! English! Or was it history? They are both as boring and repetitive as each other.

"Amity?" Michael says, snapping me out of my trance as I thought. "Did you hear what I just said?" He asks, chuckling slightly.

"Oh, what? No, sorry. What did you say?"

"I said there is this party on Friday night. It is some after party for the soccer game."

I groan in response. "So basically, all the cocky jocks and the sluts who want to fuck them will be attending?"

"My mate said it'd be pretty easy to crash," Michael says, trying to persuade me.

I look away, pretty uninterested in some party where I'm not welcomed.

"Aaaaand," Michael exaggerates, "there is supposed to be lots of booze. And not just the cheap and cheerful grog."

I look back; he's caught my attention now. The thought of going plays over in my head and I weigh the pros and cons. "But does that really excuse the other guests that will be there?" I whine.

"Amity, will you please go with me? We'll have fun!" He says, eagerly. "It won't be fun without you."

"I don't know, Mikey." I reply, unsure.

"If you don't have fun in the first half an hour, we can take a few bottles of alcohol and go back to mine, how 'bout that?"

"Fine." I give in. "I'll go, but you’re driving."

"Nuh-uh! It's just up the road. We're both walking." There was only one persons (that we knew) house that was 'up the road' from Michael's.

"Oh no, it's not Holly's party is it?"

I move away from his side, I turn to face him. He raises his hands in defence.

"Shit. No I don't want to go. You know she'll just kick me out straight away, it's virtually pointless."

"No, you said you would come with me."

I groan. The bell which indicates that the next period will be starting, rings, and I groan even louder. Everyone starts to slowly make their way to class but Michael and I stay put for just a little bit longer.

"She won't even notice you are there, Amity. She'll be drunk off her ass or too busy trying to get into the soccer captains pants. Please come with me?" He pleaded.

I hesitated for a moment before answering. "Okay, okay. I'll go with you."

"Promise?" Michael raised one hand with an extended pinky.

 I sighed and interlocked my pinky with his, "I promise."

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