George, I have successfully located Breton Joel. Currently he is sitting three tables over and five tables down from me in the cafeteria, which is where we are supposed to eat, but usually end up gossiping while studiously ignoring the gross substance on our trays that the lunch lady calls food. It took me only a day. So, yesterday, which was Monday, was day 1. Today is day 2 of my operation. My very scary possibly traumatizing operation, which could end in my guts spilled all over the street while wild animals like bears and raccoons sniff at my dead body. Sorry George, I didn't mean to get graphic.
I paused in my writing, picking up my sandwich and cautiously sniffing it. I had made it this morning, bringing it to school in a paper bag, but it was in my locker all morning. Because the lock on my locker had broken, my personal bullies now had access to my things. I carried my books around with my in a backpack, but I couldn't bring my sandwich because it would get squished. Sadly, it was left in my locker, open to any wandering bullies who might want to sabotage it.
Sniffing again, I peeled apart the bread, revealing jelly, peanut butter, and a smelly gym sock. Gross. Making a face, I gingerly plucked the sock off the sandwich and set it on the table. Jay would probably want his sock back, and if I threw it in the garbage with my ruined sandwich I would have to go dumpster diving again. As the sound of my sandwich being thrown in the trash once again alerted my bullies that I hadn't taken a bite of their surprise, they surrounded me. My bullies came from all different tables in the cafeteria. I wasn't bullied by the jocks, or the goths, or the slightly-less-nerdy-than-me-nerds. I was bullied by a jock, a goth, a slightly-less-nerdy-than-me-nerd, a drama queen, a comedy king, and him.
The first to reach my table was slightly-less-nerdy-nerd. It made sense, because his table was closest to mine.
"Hello Harry," I greeted him in a resigned tone. He ignored me, waiting for the rest of his squad to show up. Next came the goth.
"Jeannette, how nice to see you!" I chirped. Happiness made her angry, but I couldn't help it. Her black make-up scared me, and I felt the need to cheer myself up whenever I looked at her.
Drama queen and comedy king showed up together. They belonged to the same table, two tables down and one across from me. "Donna, Joey," I nodded to them as they arrived. I didn't get a response. Never did until he showed up.
The second to last one to arrive was the jock. Jay was my favorite bully, because he was creative about it. It's almost comforting to know that while your bully has no brains, he can still be completely imaginative while torturing you. He wouldn't go anywhere in the world, less likely to succeed, that was Jay. He knew it, and I knew it, and it gave me comfort. This bully would not be running the world one day. I never say anything to Jay, because sarcasm confuses him and so does talking nerds. But I silently offered him a fist bump once he was close enough. He tapped my fist while glaring. He's a bit confused, poor guy thinks we're enemies while I think he's my best friend.
Then he came. Rising leisurely from his table. Three over, five down. He looked like a giant from this far back. It was even scarier up close. "Peter Joel. Nice to see you again. Lovely weather we're having. Oh I'm so rude! How are you today?" I rambled as he came and sat at my table. On cue, all my other bullies sat down too. My table was usually empty except for me, so there was enough room for all of them.
Peter Joel was my main bully. Like a main bodyguard, but kind of serving the opposite purpose. No, never mind, because then he would be an assassin. A fun fact about Peter: after locating my target (Breton Joel), I also found out that Peter was his cousin. That's why they sit at the same table and everything.
"I'm good Georgie, how are you?" Peter replied politely. This is why I never do anything about my bullies. They are so polite to me. And I would make it worse if I tried anything, but mostly because I wouldn't want to ruin the mutual politeness.
"Fine thank you Peter. How has your day been?" I ask, like I do every day.
"Oh Georgie. Georgie, Georgie, Georgie. You polite little girl. My day has been fine. Now tell me Georgie girl, why didn't you eat your lunch today?"
"Oh silly me. I was folding Jay's laundry last night and one of his socks got folded into my sandwich. When I checked my sandwich today, I saw the dirty sock and felt so bad about it, I punished myself by throwing away my lunch. I don't deserve to eat if I can't properly clean my friend's clothes," I said, ending my made up story with a tear and a bowed head to enhance the dramatic effect. Drama queen Donna nodded appreciatively. She always liked when I made up a dramatic story for why I wasn't eating lunch.
"I didn't give you any laundry," Jay said. Poor Jay.
"But how else would your sock end up in my sandwich?" Acting confused was hard. I was ready to burst into either tears or laughter.
"I put it there after gym!" Jay announced proudly.
"Jay. How did you make it to senior year?" Peter asked him. "Go back to your table and keep your mouth closed about this."
"Don't forget your sock!" I called out to him as he turned and started the walk back to the jock table. Jay came scurrying back to my table and grabbed his sock, giving me a smile.
"Thanks Georgie. See you tomorrow!" he said cheerfully.
"Bye Jay!" I said. As soon as he turned around, my smiling face fell. Whenever Peter sent Jay away, it meant something bad was going to happen to me. "So Peter, what will it be today?" I asked, my voice wobbling as I tried to pretend I wasn't afraid.
"Well Georgie, we're unhappy with you today," Peter said, gesturing between himself and Harry. "And so we need to teach you a lesson."
"What did I do this time?" I asked. If I was going to get bullied, I liked to know why.
"Harry here is mad at you because his girlfriend dumped him. I'm mad at you for more personal reasons."
I looked at Harry sympathetically. "Jane broke up with you? You two were adorable together. Aside from Percabeth, you were my OTP. Jarry forever, right? Or, maybe not forever, but for a while. I definitely thought the two of you would last longer than Jeanette and Joey."
Jeanette and Joey (the goth and the comedy king) looked at me incredulously. "We broke up after a day," Jeanette told me. My mouth formed an O.
"Sorry. Well congratulations Harry, your relationship did last longer than them!"
"Enough!" Peter slammed his hand on the table. Usually, this would make people look over here, but since they all knew what was happening, it was old news and they didn't care. "Come on Georgie, get up."
I grabbed my bag and cleared up any trash on my table I had missed. Then I slowly got up and looked at Peter.
"Jeanette, Joey, Donna, you can go," Peter said rudely.
Crap, I was really screwed. Yeah, yeah, less bullies, but at least the four he sent away know when to stop. Harry has anger issues and Peter seems particularly vicious today. I'm more scared now than I was last night when I thought I might have to save Breton from zombies and killer spiders.
I wish my dad would mysteriously show up and tell some random person that his daughter Georgie Talbot needed saving and they have 45 seconds to do it. It would help in this situation. Of course, my dad disappeared 17 years ago, and he wasn't going to come back now.
"Go on Georgie, move!" commanded Peter from behind me. Obediently, I crept forward, following Harry down a hallway, a flight of stairs, another hallway, and through several doors. I didn't know where we were going, but when we finally stopped I recognized the basement of the school.
"I think it would be a good lesson for Georgie if she had to stay in the basement for a while," Harry said pushing me into an abandoned supply closet and kicking my ribs. Peter just watched emotionlessly as Harry kicked my side again, then my leg, then my arm. Then, as Harry walked away, going back upstairs, Peter moved forward.
"Stay away from my cousin. I don't care what my uncle told you. Keep out of it, it's family business. Breton doesn't need help." With that, I was shut into the closet. I heard the snick of the door locking, and then Peter's footsteps going back up the stairs. Not long after his footsteps faded, the bell rang.
"Great, late for class. Again. Mr. Toms is going to kill me. I've been late for his class at least five times this quarter. I'm going to get a detention! Good thing I can keep my grades up. None of my bullies are in that class, so I won't have double catch-up homework. That's good," I said out loud, talking to myself absentmindedly as I tried to think of a way to get out.
"Why do I call them my bullies anyway? I mean, they bully me, so I guess it kind of makes sense, but I feel very possessive of them. I think if they were to bully someone else I would feel betrayed. Maybe it's like Sherlock syndrome, where you feel an emotional attachment to your kidnappers. Or something like that." I reached inside my backpack and pulled out my flashlight and George.
George, so far today I have done nothing to try and save Breton. My reasons are a) because I was too scared to approach him, seeing as he is the school's main bad boy. He's like Peter, but to everyone, and b) I'm currently locked in a supply closet in the basement, thanks to Peter. There is no way out George. I'm stuck. If this is how I die, I want someone to tell my mother that I never liked that My Little Pony blanket she got me in fourth grade. I lied to her about it and told her it was pretty, but I really wanted the Spiderman one. Sorry mom. I also want someone to let Peter and my bullies know that I'm sorry for whatever it was I did to make them bully me. And tell Donna that she's my idol, she's a great actor and she really inspires me. Well did inspire me. The whole point of this is that I'm dead now. Well not right now, because I'm writing right now, but if I'm in here for very long George, I'll starve to death. Or have to use the bathroom, but since I can't I'll get a bladder infection that will kill me. Do you hear that George? I can hear the angels. I can see the stars again my lady. No, why did I write that? Zoe, you shouldn't have died!
George, I have officially lost it. I can actually hear music. And... loud noises. Like someone knocking on the door...
I stuffed George back in my crowded backpack and pressed my ear against the door. I didn't hear anything. But then...
"OW!" Someone had knocked on the door, hard. "That hurt my ear!"
"Oi, who's in there?" an unfamiliar voice asked.
"It's just me. I'm fine, but I might die of starvation, dehydration, or a bladder infection," I told whoever was on the other side of the door.
"What?" they asked.
"Never mind!" I said cheerfully. "Can you help me out?"
"Who are you?" the unfamiliar voice questioned.
"Georgie Talbot, at your service," I said, saluting before realizing they couldn't see me through the door. Obviously.
"Well Georgie Talbot, you better stand back," the person said. So I did. Way back, because they could be trying to blow up the door or something. I waited on minute, then heard a grunt and a big bang, followed by lots of dust. I coughed and swatted away the dust, trying to see who rescued me from this dark place that my bullies had left me in.
"Hello?" I asked, squinting through the dust. I couldn't see anyone, so I stepped out of the little alcove I had hidden in and spoke again.
"Is anyone there? Superman? Is that you?"
"I'm not Superman," a grouchy voice said, right above my ear. I shrieked and ran out the doorway, stepping on top the the door that had been kicked in. "Hey wait up!" Not Superman said.
"Don't kill me!" I yelled, covering my eyes.
"Calm down! I'm not gonna kill you. I was just up in the music room when I heard someone talking through the vent, which leads into this part of the basement. Then I thought I heard something in that closet, and then I kicked the door down which let you out," he said.
Cautiously, I peeked through my fingers. Standing in front of me was a dark shape. I say dark shape because there was a broken lightbulb above his head. No light, so I couldn't see his face.
"Thank you for kicking the door down!" I said, back to being cheerful. I extended my hand in gratitude. "I'm Georgia Talbot, but everyone calls me Georgie."
"Hello Georgie," the figure said, shaking my hand and taking a step closer. As if on cue, the light above him flickered on. "I'm Breton Joel."
George, I have no clue what to do now. Not one single clue. Help?
~~
So, I hope you enjoyed the first chapter!! Thank for reading and please
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Also, a HUGE thank you to DayDreamer48 for the cover I'm currently using and to lookitsnico and DishwasherFreeZone for the other covers!! (I'm currently trying to figure out how to upload the cover photos to the side.) {Update: Covers are uploaded onto more recent chapters!}
P.S. I know, it says Sherlock syndrome! I also know that it is supposed to be Stockholm syndrome! The point is that Georgie doesn't know it's Stockholm, and so she says Sherlock. Sorry, but these comments are really getting on my nerves!! IT'S AN INTENTIONAL MISTAKE!!!