With the last year of middle school upon us, I had my eyes set on the new kid of the block. He came in on a motorcycle. How was that even possible at 15? I didn't know but I certainly didn't care. He wore a leather jacket and kept his black hair slicked back. Oh my god. Drool-worthy much! Yes, this new guy would be mine.
Yes. It was decided. I was going to ride that motorcycle with my arms wrapped around him. The girl currently sitting on her thrown would have to take a mighty fall. I was very good at taking what I wanted. I'd done it many times before. Down she goes. Like a house of cards, everything she had built would come undone.
You are welcome Miss Stranger. I was doing you a favor. You can't keep a god in chains and this bull right here has horns. Yes, I was referring to myself. I learned from Big Oaf how to take what I wanted so I owe him one. That experience taught me that perception is more important than reality. He showed me that the truth didn't matter, all that matter what the perception was, that was the truth.
How you are perceived is the truth. The truth is inconsequential. If everyone thought you were a slut at your school, did that make you a slut? Well, were you treated like a slut? Did it make you feel like a slut? The truth shall set you free they say...they don't know what it is like to be a teenage girl. The truth doesn't matter.
Miss Stranger was formidable and taking her down did not bring me joy but I needed my reward and I would have it.
Of course, with all decisions, there come consequences. Miss Stranger didn't rise to her throne by being weak. In fact, I watched her slam a girl' face into a car windshield and crack the shield with her face. It.was.amazing. I had never seen such raw strength. Fighting her would not be an option. I would have him but I was going to have to go about it a different way.
If you are thinking that you would never do that or that you are better than me. I don't care. I really don't. If you were at my school, sitting in one of my classes you would have wanted to be me. You would have wanted to be my friend or at the least know that I knew of your existence.
You would have envied me. I'm not blaming you for your judgment. It is easy to look back and say "You were such a Bitch!" There. Feel better now?
It would not have occurred to you for even the briefest of moments that it was not easy being me. You would see me walking down the halls and you would probably secretly wish that I would fall on my face so you could feel just a little bit better about yourself. When I smiled at you, that might have just been the best moment of your life.
Did it make you feel good to know that I noticed you? How would it make you feel now to know that I don't even remember your name? So, you are better than me...saying to yourself that you wouldn't steal someone else's man. Maybe you are right, but ask yourself. Would you not steal him because it wasn't the right thing to do or because you couldn't do it?
Not every woman can steal a man. Nearly every woman can borrow a man. Spread your legs and he'll give you a ride but to steal him...well, that takes effort. He has to see you as more valuable than what he is leaving behind. He has to crave for what only you can provide. That takes more. So much more than what you have to offer. Don't you think?
You have to ask yourself just how far are you willing to go and how much are you willing to give up of yourself to reach your goals. If you want him, what are you willing to do to get him. Victory isn't for the meek. It is for the strong.
Unfortunately, when you don't know how to define real strength you ultimately settle for disguised weakness. Such was my fate. Mean girls, we get what we want but at what cost? What is lost when you search amongst the ashes? What is found when you attempt to seek redemption?
It took me too long to find the answer. The tragedy is, I believed that I was better than her because I stole him. Of course, I stole him. Don't be ridiculous, he was mine within 2 weeks of him getting there and he stayed mine for the rest of the bloody year.
No, I am NOT going to tell you what I did to get him because it doesn't matter. What matters is what happened next. When you do something that you are not proud of it eats at you, a little at a time until at some point in time you no longer identify with the person staring back at you.
My value had come from my ability to take from someone else. It should have come from within. I see that now. It should have come from making the world a better place but we can't go backward, only forward.
I didn't understand these truths before. I didn't know I was a mean girl. I was...just being who I thought I needed to be. Taking him was easy and by the time I was done, she didn't try to stop me. She had resolved to her fate. Yes, I was that good. You are welcome Miss Stranger. I did you a favor. He wasn't worthy of you. You'll thank me later.
Author's Note: I had decided not to share how I stole him because I wanted the purpose of the chapter to be about the conflict in the motivation rather than the action. Would you have liked to see more or were you happy with what I gave you? If you liked it please mark it and thank you for reading.
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