The Monday after the party was very scary for me. Nothing really drastic happened, but man, it gave me a fright.
I had drama class first period. That class consisted of a few people I was friends with, Hanna's "boyfriend" -they hardly even talked-, and then a bunch of other random people (most I which I hated). Oh, and also this kid Ken who like me and Bret, who was really creepy about liking Clarissa.
This was only a week after Clarissa had hated me. -I still dot know why to this day- The assignment was to write about what is bothering you most at this moment in time.
This is like telling a girl to draw a self portrait and not eat herself alive based on her smallest imperfections. I thought of the things I could write about.
1- The clown incident. No, that was too vulnerable an area in my mind to write about.
2- Literally having diarrhea because of stress. Ew. Bad idea.
3- Lilian changing. That would take too long to fully explain
4- Clarissa not talking to me.
Jesus. There are so many things wrong with my life right now. Why an I letting my life go down the drain like this? I already have so many problems. Why am letting myself get into this spiral of increasingly worsening portal of lies, despair, and scars. - Wow that sounded deep-
5- being 99% sure I'm suffering from depression.
Okay, I need to calm down. I'm not going into a spiral of increasingly worsening portal of lies, despair, and scars. I have to remember what Bobby told me. When in doubt, be fabulous. He always seemed to give the best advice. And he literally didn't even say anything. He jut said his logic. But his simple way of wording things in just the right way to flatter and inspire me at the same time made him appealing.
I really felt like I could tell him anything. I don't know why. He always seems to just get me into a good mood and then innocently asks me things. He doesn't try to pressure me into telling him anything. And that just makes me feel like I could tell him my life story. I regret much if what I've told him. But, it's a good feeling to get some of this off my chest.
Sorry, back to the story. So after at least half the period thinking about which subject matter would be least mentally grueling to write of, I decided to write about the incident with Clarissa.
We wrote about these problems for about a month. I was terrified Clarissa might see my book. Yes, we were back to being sisters, but I didn't want her to hear my true feelings on the issue. After about our 10th class writing Mr. Carlo ( the drama teacher) decided, then, to tell us we would be presenting our entries in front of the whole class.
And in moment, I swear, I was screwed.