Till the end. The diary of Heather Chandler

Entry 8

September 18 1989

Last night was- I can't even explain it it words at this point. The mix of all types of emotions that shattered like a hammer to a mirror.

Veronica was already a bitchy priss queen when I pulled up in front of the small bar. Well, it wasn't a bar. It was sort of a place that allowed teenagers in but you had to show ID to get alchohol. It was where all of the kids on the higher end of the food chain hung out. Malls were to main stream for Ohio. There being only one mall more than an hour away. Not worth it to buy a bunch of overpriced bullshit.

I slammed my foot on the brake, abrubtly shutting off the radio and  ripping the keys from the engine. The hum died down and the subtle chatter and clinking of glasses pouring from the bar fell onto the street.

I tossed my permed fluffy hair to the side and brought my blue gaze to Veronica. She was slumped in her seat, staring at the dashboard with a blank expression. I brought her all this way and the ungrateful bitch decided to repay me by acting like it was death row. Do I regret my decision? Yes. But no. Veronica is annoying. People give her almost the same amount of attention they give me.  She is always defying what I tell her to do, bringing that nauseating book everywhere, sneaking sentences out of the blue when she thinks I'm not looking. But she's better than Duke. She has humor. When I tell a joke Mac and Heather give a forced laughter that message me physically ill. Veronica gives a genuine laugh that reminds me why I imprisoned her.

But when she acts like she's still a loner with nothing to lose like this, it makes me wanna slap her face off. Let the whole school, fuck it- the whole of sherwood Ohio watch as I make an example of the guinie pig gone wrong. But then there's that strip of photo booth pictures hung in my locker. I remind myself that I need her whenever I get to upset. Waiting for my heart rate to relax as I stare at the 3 tiny square images. Before slamming the locker shut and turning to face the real person. The dislike coming back almost instantly.

But I didn't have those small smiling pictures right now. The fuzzy red domino chains hanging from the review mirror dangling dangerously as the sudden stop sent them in a frenzy. Still, I stared, my eyebrows slightly tilted and my eyes resting. My lips slanting downwards, the red in a curve of dislike. The frown was most effective, I remember Rolling my eyes as Veronica blindly groped for her small bag that was on the floor of the car. Still not meeting my eyes.

And then she was gone.

Slamming open the door and waddling out, adjusting the short gray mini dress and twisting the strap of the bag in her fist. Never once flickering her gaze even near me. I knew she felt betrayed. But there was nothing for me to do. Nothing but sigh at her ignorance was what I did as I leaned back on the red leather seats of my Porsche. 

I planned on waiting the whole time just to make sure she didn't flake. I pushed the deeper reason way down, I knew why I was staying but I didn't wanna face it. I didn't want what happened to me to happen to her. Heather had dropped me off and left, leaving my to my own devices. I wasn't doing that to Veronica. No matter how much she bitched and moaned, when dying alone was all I wished for her, I knew I was better than that.

The minutes went by quickly, I retired from sitting to standing. Leaning against the red cold metal of my car, smirking at the few cat calls I received from drunken men. Munching on the snack I had brought. The sweet BBQ flavor minglig with the savory crunch of the corn nut. Staring up at the stars. Wondering what the hell the constellations were.

 This bar was sort of on the way out of town. It was surrounded by a light forest and one had to walk a few miles before reaching the main part of Sherwood. The small bar was the only light that lit the dark forest. The equally small parking lot giving the perfect view of stars. Of the fire balls of flaming rock. The light pollution was so little that I could see more than I would be able to at home or at a random bar that heather got us in to.

Then I heard it. The slam of the door being banged open and Veronica hurriedly tumbling out with her coat clutched in one hand. Her heels clacking on the cement pavement and her face hung low. Her body tensed and her fluffy curls cover her face so I couldn't see anything.

As she got closer I felt my blood run cold. I assumed the worst, but when she raised her head to give me an angry glare I knew that nothing had happened. It was just Veronica being Veronica.

The blood instantly turned boiling hot and I felt my skin burn hotter han third degree as I grinded my teeth. Breathing heavily as my heart rate pulsated up to way faster than I could ever think it would go. Like I had run a marathon.

I lurched forwards. Ignoring her shock of suprise and pain as I pulled her down but her upper arm. Grabbing her hair with my other red taloned hand mand pulling her face to look at me. She staggered, blatently hitting my arm with her hands, wincing and squeezing her eyes shut as I yanked her hair once again. This is what I get?

The bitch will pay. I couldn't help but laugh. A twisted laugh that rang out accross the tiny parking lot like a shot in the dark.

But the giggle abrubtly stopped as I remembered that I had to teach the defiant rebel a lesson.

When she stopped struggling, I bent my head to her level, lowering my lips to her ear, and emiting a soft hiss through my perfectly red lipstick lips.

"Real life sucks loser dry. If you wanna fuck with the eaguls, then you gotta learn to fly."

Then with one final wrench of her glossy brown hair I threw her to the ground. She shrieked in shock, landing on her ass in the grimy wet gravel and pieces of cement. Staring at me through the strands of hair sticking to her face and lipstick. Huffing angerling as she supported herself with her arms behind her, pulling her legs in to try and stand.

 I continued to let her see the fire in my eyes. Summoning everything I ever hated about her. I forgot everything she ever did to help. Wripping up that photo strip in my mind. Imagining that I could tear her into flesh and blood altogether.

Her expression fell into a dumbfounded one that made me wanna slap her face.

"So you teach people how to spread their wings and fly?"

I could tell she was being a smartass. Her whole mood and vibe was giving off major back stabbing aura, I took a step forwards, grinding my pearly whites once again. Satisfied that she nervously scooted back. Ignoring the fact that there was mud on her dress. Her hair looked like she had been put through a saw Mill.

"Yes."

Was all I said. Triuphant and superior. The powerful statue I was. But the bitch wasnt done. I watched as she used the neighboring car trunt to heaven herself up, steading her shaky legs and high heeled feet before drawing herself almost to my height. Our faces a few inches apart. Fury painted on each expression. Lions in a cage.

"You're beautiful."

 And so I slapped her. Hard.