Thalia

Chapter 22: She's Gone

If she wants my homework, I'll give it to her. I don't care. I just want to be normal. If I didn't have this darn telekinesis, I would only have to deal with Misty and she'd still be here, taunting me. Only when I'm in the girl's restroom do I notice that I'm crying. Real tears. And I don't freakin' care who sees me. My fist connects with a stall door from my fury and a dent forms instantly. The tears stream their own track down my cheek and I feel like I'm being lifted from the ground, hovering all over the place.

"Hmm. I see you're learning how to fly, huh? It's about time." Flying? I look down and sure enough, I'm in the air. The voice sounds male-oriented but you can never be to sure with these guys. I turn to fac--oh those dirt-bags! I don't sound like that! The person before me is the other me wearing some of the ugliest clothes I've ever seen in my life. 

"What're you shocked or something? I'm just being you." 

"What the crap did you do with Misty?" This isn't funny anymore, this is messed up.

"You mean what did you do with Misty? You got her out of your hair. Remember? Because she's such a baggage to be carrying on your shoulders. So you got her. You found her in the hallway, took her into the parking lot and drugged her with some Chloroform you've been carrying around for quite some time now. I'm pretty sure that's illegal to be in your hands, by the way. Amd after that, you took her car to an abandoned shed you found and keep her there, alive and aware of her surroundings. I just hope you were smart enough to make sure she won't leave and find her way back here, ya know? That'd be bad."  

They framed me? Of all the things they could've done to me, they frame me? How sick is that? I understand that they want me gone or whatever it is they want with me, but that's a little extreme. You shouldn't have to make me suffer along the way. 

"Why're you doing this?" I ask, angrily. "I didn't do anything to any of you. I was stuck in a stupid dare and because of that, you're all after me?" The ugly me raises her hands in surrender and backs off from the pink, bathroom wall.

"No need to get all yell-y, Rose. We can handle this situation like we usually do, right?" Instantly, her body disappeared with a high pitch annoying, chalkboard scraping sound and a few seconds later, Indigo appeared in front of me with my outfit in her hand and a wicked smile plastered on her raunchy but pretty face. "Here, Rose. I don't think I'm ready for you to be exposed yet. I want a little more fun. Put it on."

Well, can we say awkward? Your arch enemy gives you your outfit so you can stay a secret? Sounds like a decision some loser makes when they're asking to get their butt whooped. I cautiously take the clothes and change inside of the crunched bathroom stall. Sometimes I think these villain guys are just lunatics from the future with advanced technology trying to test their theory's on "ancient" human beings. That's the most logical explanation I've got.

I step out of the stall and Indigo is standing right in front of me with her hands impatiently on her hip. "Aww! It's so cute on you!" 

I grab the hem of my romper and half twirl. It is kind of cute, I guess. "Really?" 

"No." You crow-eyed, snapping turtle! I try to look up but when I partially make eye contact, she swings her fist around and it collapses with my jaw with a popping sound. The bathroom floor is a lot harder than I thought it would be and the grime is way thicker than I could have possibly imagined. I couldn't stand eating near the exit doors of the cafeteria. Who puts a bathroom directly next to it? You'll always smell the mixture of weed, poop and people's breath that smell like they floss everyday with spoiled garlic.

The stinging sensation in my cheek intensifies along with the anger that's been bottled up inside of me for millenniums. Towards all the missed TV shows, the pets I've killed including Mr. Bubbles, all of my failed pranks, and my half-anger towards my father. I can feel my eyes heat and my wrist singe from my flower mark burning. For some reason, as I learn more and more about myself through Cora, the flower starts to burn through my clothes when I'm handling "business".