The weekend brings about rain. A heavy, endless storm that pummels into the windows and violently rocks the shutters. Outside, torrents bend trees sideways, flooding the forest floor with murky rainwater. It is a terrifying sight, yet I cannot pull my eyes away. Monday looms overheard - dangerous and foreboding. A milestone I hope never to reach. I know what will come of that day already - Clo and Marion and Emma endlessly mocking me. It will be more miserable than the rain. I wish I didn't have to go to school. Just skip, stay home, feign illness. But that's impossible, because I cannot give Anna any more indications of being teased, else she forbid me from seeing my friends. So, instead, I pray that Monday never comes. I shut my eyes and pretend that this isn't reality, that everything is different.
When I open my eyes, I'm already on the pavement waiting for the bus. It rolls up and the door creaks open. One last chance to run but I am too scared to take it; instead I slowly walk up the filthy bus steps. Marion and Clo are already seated; they look at me and smirk and my stomach flips because I know I'm in for it.
"Is everything okay?" Clo asks as I take my seat behind them.
"I guess. Why?" She raises her eyebrows.
"I don't know, maybe cause you had to leave for an emergency?"
"Oh, yeah, that."
"What was it anyway?" Marion turns around and leans over by Clo, staring me down in a similar fashion.
"It was, um, private."
"Did you, like, start your period or something?" My cheeks flush a furious red.
"Guess we're lucky she didn't feint at the sight of it."
"That's not it," I blurt out. Their eyes narrow in a terrifying sync.
"Don't tell us - was it your first time?" Clo's syllables drip with sly condescension. I hate it.
"I said that's not it." With what little strength I have, I stand my puny ground.
"Then what was it?" In mere moments, Marion turns that ground to dust. I look up, nervously cowering, at her.
Suddenly, everything is closing in. I try to talk but the words won't come. Why won't they come? I am desperate for something, anything, to say. But instead I speak in silence. Powerless, cowardly silence. Clo and Marion soak in it, defeating me.
"Seriously, Gabby, you need to have some guts." As she talks, Clo begins picking at her cuticles. "What are you, five? It honestly looked so fake, there was nothing to be afraid of."
"Yeah," Marion quickly agrees. "It wasn't even scary. You should've heard us laughing."
"You're right. I'm sorry." Clo abruptly bangs her fist against the seat.
"I said: stop apologizing. It's pathetic." She doesn't say you're pathetic, but I hear it nevertheless. Afraid of slipping up again, I say nothing more. Neither do Marion or Clo, and the rest of the ride to school reeks of loathsome silence. This attitude leaks into the rest of the day - and the next one. They all act disgusted by me, as though I am diseased. They treat me like I am one misstep away from rejection. So I tread cautiously and quietly; I stitch my mouth shut. I will be as invisible as a ghost.
______
On Wednesday next week Clo is absent. In a conversation between Emma and Marion I overhear it's because of her cramps. They lace their voices with sympathy and I do not understand why. Even when I'm dying from my period, Anna shoves me out the door and tosses my bag behind me, shouting have fun at school. So why doesn't incapacitating cramps make Clo weak when anything I do makes me? There must be a reason - I'm just too dumb to see it.
Because Clo is absent I end up partnering with Wendy again. Today her hair is pulled back with bejeweled butterfly clips. They are beautiful, but I could never wear them; on me they'd be childish.
"Hey, how do you draw mountains again?" I pull a brown pencil crayon from my pile of stationary and hand it to her.
"I think just the consecutive circles, right?" We are working on a Topographic map that has to be handed in by the end of the period. Any landscape is suitable, but Wendy insisted we do the himalayan mountains.
"I know, but it just looks off." She lifts her hand off the page, revealing the worst circle I have ever seen.
"Do you need a compass or something?" Wendy looks up at me.
"Are you insulting my drawing skills? You wanna go?" Immediately I shake my hands.
"No no no. Sorry. I didn't mean it like that." Wendy laughs really loud. As if in response, the bell rings.
"Okay class," The teacher announces, "Please return your maps before leaving." Both Wendy and I look down at our disaster in sync.
"God, I hope this is not for marks." A smile cracks along her face and she falls into laughter again. "What am I talking about? This is a masterpiece!" Wendy stands up so fast her chair almost falls behind her. "Alright, I'll hand it in. See you soon." She takes her bag as she walks up to the front. She doesn't return, rather heading straight out the door.
_______
The school day only ends after a long eternity. The bus, still parked in the school lot, reeks of tobacco and ketchup - an odd combination. I tap my pencil against the dusty windowsill, my hand firmly on my notebook, and try to think up another synonym for disgusting. That word has already been used to describe me twice in one page and I need a different one. Appalling? No. Atrocious? Maybe.
When I look up Marion is walking down the aisle. My stomach registers before my brain that Emma is behind her and does a little churn.
"Hi guys," I weakly stutter. Marion barely looks up.
"Hey Gabby." As they sit in front of me, I kind of stand up and lean over the back of their seat. Marion is handing Emma a mint.
"What are you doing on the bus, Emma?" She doesn't even respond with words, just shrugs, fiddles with her candy, then pops it in her mouth. "Okay, cool." My voice melts away, mists away, and I don't know what to do next. So I sit and shamefully shove my notebook into my bag. Then, I shamelessly eavesdrop.
The two of them barely talk, and when they do their voices are muffled. I have to put my ear against their seat in order to make out some words. Even then, only a few are clear enough. Once more, I stand and lean over the back of their seat.
"Hey," I say again. Marion and Emma both turn around.
"Is something wrong?" Marion asks, annoyed.
"Oh, um not really..." I glance out the window quickly before returning to my two friends. "I guess I'm just curious about what you guys are doing.... If that's okay." Without hesitating, Marion rolls her eyes before sighing.
"We're going to see Clo," she begrudgingly admits. "You know how she's unwell, so we wanted to check up on her." Before my mind has time to stop, the next sentence is already coming out.
"Oh, good idea. If it's not too much trouble, could I... possibly... tag along?" The long moment of silence after my words frightens me. Both Marion and Emma turn to each other, and suddenly I feel sick to my stomach. Eventually Emma turns back towards me.
"Actually, I think it might be better if we just go."
"Oh, um, how come?" My words are shaking. So are my hands, my knees, my stomach, everything.
"Just, you know, when you're sick a lot of people around can be overwhelming."
"It's nothing personal," Marion interjects. Then she bites her lower lip. "Well," she continues under her breath, "maybe a little." I think she didn't expect me to hear that last part - but I did. And my watering eyes entirely give it away. "Oh, no, Gabby, don't cry." I cannot distinguish whether it is sympathy or irritation, but the tears begin welling nevertheless.
"I'm sorry," I apologize before sinking back down into my chair. Desperately, I try to wipe away my tears. There's a grumble, then Marion's head pops up above the back of the seat.
"Look, Gabby, I didn't mean to hurt your feelings." She digs her palm into her forehead then grumbles again. "I think Clo just wants some space to cool off."
"Why?" I choke out.
"It doesn't matter, honestly." Immediately after, Marion elicits an ouch as Emma elbows her knee. Marion turns away from me and meets Emma's eyes. "Fine, fine, I'll just tell her." My heartbeat increases as Marion turns back to me.
"Ughh, I don't want Clo to hate me for this." Another ouch. "Please don't cry, okay? Basically we had a talk over the phone a couple nights ago. And, well, Clo ranted a bit about how she's... a little... fed up with you. I still don't fully know why. That enough?" A sinking feeling ravishes me and my tears well back up. "Oh my god, like I said, stop crying. She just needs space, okay? She'll calm down in a bit."
"I'm sorry." I turn back down to my lap, to my beat-up jeans. "Please let me come. I'll talk to Clo, I'll apologize, I'll do whatever's necessary to make it right." My fisted hands are shaking. A single tear falls and soaks into the denim fabric.
"Did you not hear me? She doesn't want you around right now. She literally said herself that she wants distance for a while."
"But what did I do?" I persist. Despite the crowded bus, my voice grows. "I'll fix it, whatever it is." There is an abrupt shuffle as Emma turns and appears beside Marion. She stares me straight down.
"Both of you are so loud. Gabby, get a grip, this is not an end all. Marion, you are about the worst fucking communicator I have ever seen." She quickly glares at Marion before turning back to me. "Clo is pissed because you've been obtrusive and disrespectful. Not only did you verbally attack her in a restaurant, but you also invaded her party only to leave after taking what you wanted. She was freaking crying over the phone cause she can't handle anymore. If you want things to change, learn some gratitude or self-awareness or something. I don't know." After a long glare she turns to sit back down. Suddenly she pauses again. "Oh yeah, and leave her the hell alone." Then she disappears and pulls Marion down with her.
I spend the rest of the bus ride silently crying.
________
Stupid. Ugly. Fat. I toss my pillow onto the floor and scream. Anna's not home so there's no need to keep quiet. I pound my fist against my bed so hard I hear a crack. It hurts but I don't care. I pound my hand into my elbow. Maybe if lucky enough it'll bruise - a reminder of my atrocities.
As the sun sets I rage through my room. Throw objects. Scream out the rest of my voice. Abhorrent. Abomination. Atrocious. Cowardly. Childish. Sickening. I kick until my legs are numb. I cry until my eyes are dry. At the end, I crumple to the floor like a tossed out rag doll. I stay on the ground until my room is entirely black, helpless and lifeless. My tears sink into the wood floor.
Then, through the window, a light. It flickers for only a moment and alights my room. Dark again. I sit up aching, then stand and walk to the windowsill. Another spark briefly ignites further in the woods.
After a long stretch of silence the fairies have returned my plea; they beckon me from their cavern home. There is no hesitation, only impulsivity. I barrel out the back door and into the woods in bare feet. The moss is cold, light frost melts between my toes. I keep running until my feet grow numb, but do not allow them the luxury of rest. Instead I hastily push through the thickening growth, even as tree limbs scrape my arms and I stumble over small rocks.
Eventually, I reach the cave, and enter without hesitation. Azalea sits inside, her glow tepidly echoing against the walls. Lily and Aster talk softly across the stone den. She looks up at me like she knew I was coming all along.
Gabby, dear, what is wrong? Her eyes flood with concern. She studies the marks of misery written all over my face. We could sense your sorrow from all the way out here. Her loving words melt through me. I run and throw myself at her, nestling my face in all her warmth. My tears return to convey what words cannot. Oh, Gabby.
What happened?
Yes, Gabrielle, why are you so distressed? Lily and Aster stop their conversation and approach me. As soon as I pull away from Azalea, they each hug me in turn. The whole room feels so warm, so safe and understanding. I want to stay here, to dissolve, to fully embrace their kindness.
After long minutes of sympathetic silence, the fairies sit me down and insist I tell them everything. So I do. I talk about Marion and Clo and Emma, and my self-hatred, and the sleepover, and pissing Clo off, and how I can never do anything right. In response, Azi pulls me close and rubs my back soothingly. Lily and Aster calm me with kind words. I down their comfort like a drug.
"I'm so stupid," I lament, looking up at Azi with tearful eyes.
No you're not. You're so smart, just like your mother.
"I'm nothing like her. She was beautiful. I'm fat and ugly."
No you're not, Lily insists. You are gorgeous, even if some can't see it.
Yes, Aster agrees, simply stunning.
"I just. I don't know." I turn my head and peer through the cave entrance into the empty forest. There is so much darkness that I cannot see any life or shrubbery, just a void. "Sometimes, I wish I could change," I turn back and face Azi, "I wish I could be different." She hesitates at my words, opens her mouth, then shuts it and nods.
I am sorry. Truly. Azalea brushes a lock of my hair behind my ear, then cups my cheek.
"I just," I pause for a moment. "I'd trade anything to change." The tears come back, reckless and abhorrent and messy. They are just like me.
Suddenly, Lily sits up. She shakes my shoulder to grab my attention.
You know, Gabby, there is a way to -
Before she can finish, Aster puts a hand over her mouth. No, she aggressively whispers. Lily pulls her hand away but says no more. Yet, I want to hear the rest.
"A way to what?" Lily glances at Azalea with a nervous face. I follow her gaze. Azalea is looking at Lily like she is one step away from exiling her. "Azalea," I continue nevertheless, "A way to what?" My heart is thumping in my chest. Deafening, arrhythmic pulses that echo in my ears. After a long sigh, Azalea lowers her head.
If you really want to know, there is a way to change. Everything inside me freezes all at once. Except for my heart, which somehow continues to fiercely beat. I feel small tingles run up and down my arms, and my stomach flip. I am suddenly more terrified than I have ever been.
"How?" My weak voice cracks.
I didn't really want you to know, Azalea concedes. But, if you really, truly, entirely want to change, there is a way.
"I said," I pursue, "How?" With every syllable my voice shakes. It is on a balance beam and about to fall over.
With a high price. Azalea brings her head back up and faces me. Her eyes look into mine, a blue-grey colour like a stormy sea. One that I'm not sure you want to take.
I am shaking, every muscle inside me reverberating. My heart is still beating deep in my chest. The world feels incredibly unearthly, unnatural, like it has stopped spinning - like everything has halted. But I don't stop. I want it so badly, so deeply. The idea of change pulls me forward, through the darkness, taking my hand and dragging me.
"What's the price?" Azalea moves in towards me, her eyes enveloping my entire sight.
Are you sure you want to know? Her warm breath grazes my chin.
"Yes." I am sure. Azalea nods. Lily and Aster are silently watching like wallflowers.
Gabby, what are you hoping to change?
My first thought is that I don't know. Then small ideas creep into my mind. I look down at my body, my disgusting self, and realize that there are lots of things I wish to change. I want to have friends, to be popular. I want respect. I want to not be childish. I want to not be stupid. I want to be beautiful.
I want to be beautiful.
"My body," I answer. Maybe if I'm not so ugly, people will like me and listen to me.
Very well. Azalea backs away from me. I'll warn you again though, there is a high toll.
"I don't care." She looks me dead in the eyes one last time. The world goes silent.
If a beautiful figure is what you desire, She rests a hand below my chest, then you must give up your stomach.