A Recipe for Evil

Cruelty Is Fed, Not Weakened, by Tears

"Cruelty is fed, not weakened, by tears" Publilius Syrus

The first day back to school is cold and snowy. As she walks towards the entrance, Amy Miller a wintry wind shard the skin of her uncovered legs. How ironic- she thinks- is it that winter seems so beautifully romantic to the one who is happy, but so painfully cold and lonely to the one who is sad.

Categorizing herself as an optimistic, Amy is usually one to be part of the first group. Winter is to her the most wonderful season of the year. She associates it with stunning sceneries of sparkling white nature. As a child, she used to consider the wind as a friend whispering its secrets to her curious ears. Sometimes she would lay under the night sky in her winter suit after a day of building snowmen or skating and her eyes would shine as much as the shimmering stars over her head. She would stay still, letting the soundless night fill up her senses until one of her parents would call her from the backyard's door.  She would  then run towards the house, heart beating as fast as the rhythm of the life running excitedly through her veins. She had tried more than once to share one of those moments with Louis. She exhaustively tried to explain to him the beauty of her feelings in those briefly perfect instants but he didn't understand. He was probably not even listening to her. He barely ever did. She could lie to herself and pretend that he isn't much of a listener, but - no matter to whom she talked to-she was always alone with her own blabbering.

It is painful, isn't it? How people can be surrounded by others, but always lonesome. Most days, Amy goes through the halls of her school as a figurant to other people's life. She is as meaningless to them as the paint on the walls or the chair on which they sit as they let their teachers' words fly above their heads similarly to mosquitoes they try their best to ignore, but even those words are more important to them than her presence.

It's depressing how winter has now turned into the cold reminder of Amy Miller's loneliness.

Before opening the door that would lead her to the warm interior of her school, the unpopular teenager takes a deep breath and closes her eyes. She relishes the excruciating pain of the icy temperature enveloping her almost frozen limbs. A small, sad, smile creeps on her lips as she thinks of how similar this sensation is to the one stabbing her heart. They seem to complement one another perfectly and for a moment she feels whole.

"Just open the freaking door, geek!" Myriam  hisses from behind her.

Amy blinks a few times.

"Myriam , the way you speak to me is entirely ina-" she starts.

"If you're not going to open it, at least, move out of the way. We're not all stupid enough to stay in the fucking cold."

Amy's hand slide off the door's handle as Myriam pushes her to the side. The cheerleader gives her a scornful side glance before entering the school in a hasty way, leaving her victim to stand awkwardly outside.

The actress fidgets. Tears gather to her eyes. Her hands nervously run up in down the fabric of her white scarf.

"Hey you!" Meredith calls her from behind.

Amy quickly wipes her tears away and smiles at the other girl. Meredith is- in her opinion- a very plain-looking girl. Her hair is red and curly. Her face is covered in freckles. Her eyes are large and of a very pale shade of greyish blue. They frighten Amy because they seem expressionless most of the time. She can't tell if it's out of idiocy or out of indifference. She secretly believes that the red-headed girl could witness a horrifying event occur right in front of her eyes without having any kind of feelings whatsoever. She would be happy to follow the lead of anyone, in good or in bad, because she is similar to an unquestioning sheep. She is as clueless as she is cold-blooded. She is a blade who belongs to any manipulative tongue that cares to use her. People like her are terribly dangerous because they seem harmless to the inattentive eye, but through the hand of a skilful and ruthless mastermind they are the most dangerous weapons one could have.