Behind the bully (On Hold)

Chapter 12

I could hear the whispers 100 miles away.

Ok, so maybe I couldn't actually hear the whispers, but I have eyes, and I noticed when people pointed and stared, running from person to person and whispering something unintelligable from this far away, but I could easily guess what they said. 

'Oh, here's Bianca, isn't she such a freak?'

'Look at her wrists! Did you hear about how she almost killed herself? Jees she needs a life'

'Is she ok? I hope not!'

'She's messed up again'

'Wimp'

'Why did she have to be stopped, why didn't she just die?'

I scowled at them, quickly falling back into old habits.

"Bianca. They are not  saying that stuff and stop scowling at them!" I cursed myself, I must have been thinking aloud. I flung around to face Amy angrily, staring her down. She didn't flinch once, reminding me of the time we first met and how, regardless on how I'd treated her, she was the one who was always there for me. I sighed and looked down at my feet in shame.

"Sorry" I muttered. Amy nodded and we walked on in silence.

The stares still followed, and so did the maniac whispering. If I had ever felt like a freak before, I had no idea. 

People cleared paths for me, backing away slowly and silently, not daring to even blink for fear of an outburst from me. After all, I was unpredictable, able to snap at anyone at any time.

It was tempting to growl at some of them, walk up to them and steal their lunch. I noticed some people quietly slinking away into the shadows in a vein attempt for me not to see them. I knew most of them through the 'Bully Game' as I like to call it. That was the one I stole money from on Mondays, oh I copy that one's homework, um that one looks like the one I used as a punching bag last year when she rolled her eyes at me...

I suddenly stopped in shock of what I was thinking. Had I really gotten that bad? Was I really that bad of a bully? Had I truly lost myself that much?

Yes, I had.

Amy noticed I was no longer by her side, turned around and quickly made her way to me. I hung my head in shame, how could she be friends with me? I'd messed everything up and I'd hurt so many people, not to mention poor poor Pig! I fought the tears but it was no use. I couldn't believe how cruel I'd been! What happened to my old morals and values? I would never hurt anyone! I would stick up for everyone no matter who they were! Now it was me people had to stand up to, and they were all too afraid to do it. All that money I'd stolen, all those bruises and cuts I'd inflicted, all the dignity I'd stolen from people, how did I do it? Why did I do it?

The tears started rolling down my cheeks, then more came after that and suddenly they were like a waterfall cascading down my face. I knew everyone was staring but I didn't care anymore. I started sobbing and shaking uncontrollably. I fell to my knees and cried into the dirt, not caring about the dirt now sticking to the tears. I didn't care about anything at this moment, except for hatred of the girl I had turned into.

Amy knealt beside me and put her hand on my shoulder comfortingly. Normally I would shrug it off, but I needed the support right now and Amy was the only person who would give it to me.

"Bi," she said softly, lowering her head to try and get a better view of my face. "Bi, come on, let's go to the toilet" I nodded shakily and tried to get to my feet, but the shaking forced me to topple over and land smash on the ground. It hurt but I didn't care.

"Come on Bi, it's allright, I've got you" I felt Amy's arms around my waste hoisting me up, holding me steady. I nodded again and we slowly made our way to the toilet block sitting neglected around the corner. 

When we entered there were already two girls standing infront of the mirror fixing up their hair and putting make-up on. They turned away and stared at us in fear, well stared at me in fear, before quickly backing up against the wall and watching the doorway in longing; they had dropped their make-up. 

Amy smiled kindly at them and said simply, "It's alright girls, grab your stuff, we're not going to hurt you" They glanced at me in unease, the clearly didn't trust me at all. They ran out the toilet block without even looking back at their make-up, one girl had only half her lipstick on.

I grimaced and punched the wall, but my heart wasn't in it and it turned into more of a bitch slap. Actually no, drop the bitch, it was too shameful a hit to be considered a 'bitch' slap.

"Bi, the walls never did anything to you I'm pretty sure, lay off them a bit would you?" Amy said jokingly. I slouched down and crouched on the spot, leaning against the apparently innocent walls.

"Come on Bi, it's allright" Amy said soothingly, kneeling down beside me and rubbing my back. 

After a long silence broken only by my sobs and Amy's occasional soothing comments, I finally stopped the tears and looked up at her.

"Th-thank you" I stuttered, trying to control the afteraffects of the sobbing. Amy smiled.

"Don't mention it. Let's get your face cleaned up" She stood up and offered her hand to me, I grabbed it and she hauled me up.

The ghastly sight in the mirror made me grimace. Smeared mascara and eyeshadow ran down my face, my eyes shone a bright, devilish red and were puffy, and my hair was a birdsnest from leaning against the toilet wall. Not to mention my cheeks were flushed. I groaned.

"Come on, it's easily fixed, I came prepared" Amy winked at me and I rolled my eyes, she was always prepared. She fished out of her bag, which I didn't realise she was still holding, another smaller but still quite large bag and opened it. 

I don't think I'd ever seen so much make-up in my life.

I looked at Amy wide-eyed. All this belonged to the girl who cared more about natural beauty than artificial beauty, the girl who spends her time trying to sue magazines for using too much photoshop and make-up? She scowled.

"It's not mine it's mum's, she owns some giant make-up place. I figured coming back here would be hard for you so I decided I'd bring some along, just in case you know?" She flipped her hair back in a vein attempt at nonchalance. I wasn't letting her off that easy though.

"What make-up place?" I asked curiously. She fiddled with her hair.

"Um, a place" She murmered.

"A place..." I prompted.

"It doesn't matter, just a place, not very big or anything" I she said dismissively. I frowned at her. Why was she so into keeping this a secret? Clearly it was something she didn't want me to know so I let it be and started rifling through all the cosmetics in the bag. There was at least 10 different types of black mascara, not to mention all the other colours. About fifty shades of blush and probably over 70 types of foundation, how did all this fit into the bag? That wasn't even including the lipstick/lipgloss, eye shadow, eye liner, concealer etc.

I was applying a final shade of eye shadow when some glinting text on the edge of it caught my eye. I looked at it and gasped.

"Georgia's? Georgia's? You mean to tell me your mum works for Georgia's!?" I exclaimed, my voice going up a notch after every word. Amy shrugged and looked at the floor in shame.

"No, she doesn't work for them..." She trailed off. I looked at her confused. Finally Amy let out a sigh and answered, "She is Georgia"