Chapter 15: Blackmail Possibilities
Please, I don't have the nerve to run away. I'd crap myself before I get to that point. But that was a pretty good idea if you ask me.
'me & zack r gonna be together forever!!!!! <3 he bettr ask me out before i snap'
Ignored. Not being rude or anything, but I need to sort out my own problems before I can help with other people's. And I have a whole encyclopedia worth of problems: girl problems, guy problems, girl and guy problems, health problems, mental problems, mental health problems. Even my problems have problems. It's sad.
My laptop looks lonely on my dresser all by itself. Let me comfort it. I grab my lavender computer and place it in my lap as I lay on my bed. Wherever this comforter came from needs to get an award. I've never felt anything so soft in my life besides Ryan. Cuddling would be nice for once.
The light illuminates my face as I browse Facebook looking at drama just seeping through the screen.
Jessica Tidley
what she did was dead wrong. i dnt really see da big deal in it. aint nobody scared of u misty.. she coo wit me and u just bein childish.
#grow up dis aint kindergarden
Harry Moss
well dang misty. just put her out there like that. she didnt even do anything to you. i do the same things and to me you just were bein a creep on her.
Gary Rickett
that wasnt really appropriate to do misty. i think you should take the pictures down before you get into trouble. the pictures arent all that anyways. it really wont change anything. shes a nice person and youre a jerk.
Great. Misty is on her scavenger hunt for dirt, and attempted to ruin yet another person's life. I don't even understand why I added her as a friend. Curiosity is a powerful thing. Guess I'll have to give in to it and go to Misty's page and see what the crap she's whining about.
Who puts a profile picture as them in the bathroom? I don't want to know all of that. I'm pretty sure we all do just about the same thing as you in the bathroom, Misty. Go find a hobby or something that doesn't involve standing on street corners. Trying to pretend you're naturally rich, skunk, please. We all know where the money is coming from.
Misty Harper
heyy!! ;D check out the new pic album i got!! rose is NOT who ya thinnk ;)) #dirrrtyy
Butt pickin', nose burnin', corner standin', scrunch bag is not trying to blackmail me. She can't. I don't even talk to her so she has nothing on me. Probably some lame photos that she pasted my head onto and was like, "I eat pizza for breakfast" or something else stupid. Just because she's a stupid person in general.
The photo album is titled, "Roses are red. . . and raunchyy". Is that the best she could think of? This has got to be some type of joke. Come on, cameras. . . you can pop out now, I know this is a joke. Not even the lamest person on Earth would name an album that. Heck, they wouldn't even name their dead cat that.
And what's up with the extra letters? She's only making the word more complicated than it already is. For goodness sakes we live in America where there are such things as silent E's and the same sound for two different letters--quit making it complex, idiot.
My mouse hovers over the first picture and clicks on it. When it fully loads, it's a picture of me from behind in front of a large tan-bricked house with a strained look on my face. . .
As I pick my wedgie.
This brat got a picture of me from last week picking my wedgie after the motorcycle ride! I could've sworn nobody was outside when that even happened. I looked around! It was completely empty besides some old man, probably with 2/2 vision, walking his chihuahua. He was the only person outside and I know for a fact he doesn't know Misty or had a camera. Better yet, know how to work one.
The next picture in there is me laying on the floor, tongue hanging all out, eyes uneven, it basically looks like I'm trying to lick the floor and there's a crowd of people surrounding me and my flying, dark hair. Where the heck is this picture at? It's all darkly lit in there and multicolored specks are reflecting from the floor. Well I know I wasn't at a bachelorette party or anythi--oh, no.
She was at Purple Moon, too? If she's trying to let people know she's sane, it's not really working. It actually looks more like she's my personal stalker. She saw me dance and made it look like the most revolting thing ever. The caption reads:
'omg, rose.... donnt wearr yyourself out girll. you can licck the floor all u wannaa xD'
Boy, Misty has it coming. The rest of the pictures aren't extremely embarrassing, but it's enough to tick me off. Don't anyone dare to even try and make a joke out of me or my friends because if you do, expect there to be an arranged funeral. I'll even let you pick out your casket.
The end of my bed creaks and I ignore it. Maybe my foot twitched or something. Suddenly, heavy breathing fills my hair and my head snaps up to see. . . myself? Wait no, not just myself but two of me. One blocking the door, jaw clenched and arms crossed and the other leaning down in front of me with deep blue eyes. For one: My eyes aren't blue, they're hazel, and two: My nostrils can't flare to a size that's able to fit a freaking cell phone up into it.
The Rose in front of me slowly closes my laptop as I stare at her with wide eyes, frozen in place. How do "I" know where the real "I" live? Nope, that's not weird at all.
She calmly takes a hold of the front of my shirt, thrusts me to the floor, and immediately the other me that was by the door comes over and grabs my hands preventing me from using them.
"Don't worry, Rose. We'll be kind enough to let you live." Her fist takes a hard jab to my stomach making me wretch in pain and a squirt of blood release from my mouth. "For now." The airways to my throat feel like they're being pinched shut and I can't do a thing about it. "Hold her." Isn't she already freakin' doing that?!
Rose in front takes some steps backwards and grabs my sofa chair leg, breaking it off. Well, good. Now I need a new couch. She plays with it a bit bouncing it up and down in her hand before she chucks it at my head, hitting my cheek dead on and more blood hurls from my mouth. Clorox stain remover better work for this.
What's their purpose? Are they here to torment me for fun? Sent by somebody? Mad because the bottle she stole from me of lotion was half empty? In between breaths I manage to calm my heart rate a little. "What're you here for?" My arms above my head are stretched to the extent where I feel like they'll fall off if she applies any more pressure.
"Oh look; it speaks. I have a feeling you know exactly why we're here. We all warned you to stay away. You didn't have to have these special little powers. They were supposed to be mine. But you got in the way." A stinging sensation came across my cheek and I feel some warm blood flowing down it too. She back slapped me. Why am I not fighting back? I should've thought of this a while ago.
Get angry, Rose. Get angry and go buck wild on them. Go freakazoid.
That's my not so organized plan, then. My view becomes clearer and I gain a sudden burst of energy and charge across the room body-slamming her into the ground. "I can live how I want." Not the least bit of worry shows in her face and then she does something really creepy. She smirks at me.
"Honey, that's the problem."
So, there's a moment when you know you're screwed and that's right now because her eyes turn dark red, her smile quickly fades and her voice lowers five hundred octaves. "You can't."
"Rose! What're you doing up there?! I need my ointment rubbed!"
Running out of luck, I see her trying to make some move that I'm sure will end my life before I get my senior citizen discounts, and make my ceiling fan drop towards her body as I roll off of her. That wasn't a good idea. What if I get hot tonight? I'll have to open my window and allow the bugs to party while I sleep.
The Rose that's on the ground notices the fan heading towards her and yells out a deep "No" before being hit by it and her body burst into blue dust and powder. That's weird. I was hoping for blood and maybe some heaving but not. . . that. The Rose that was holding me back saw what had happened and no less than a nano second later jumps out of my window. Who cares where she goes, just as long as she's away from me.
Now my room's messed up. Congratulations guys, I have more chores to do.
"Rose Amelia Parker! Get down here and rub my ointment before it spreads again!"
What exactly is "it"? I don't even know.
.:*~*:._.:*~*:.♥.:*~*:._.:*~*:.
"So'd you beat yourself up again last night or something?" Leave it to Zoey to make a joke out of something. . . joke-less.
I skim my cheek with my hand. Gosh, being judged is never any fun. That dumb brat left a scratch on my cheek. Unfortunately, my scar didn't leave my face when it was prayed for at church either. It's just less visible, but still very visible. "Sure did. Thought I needed to teach myself a lesson. Anyways what's up? You got 'The Look' on your face." Haven't seen that one in a while.
"What's up? Your cheek." She belts out a hardy laugh and slaps her knee causing a few passerby's to stare at her like she's psycho--because she is. "What're you looking at? I don't remember mentioning your name in my sentence did I? No." Man, she can be mean. The little sophomores scurried off towards the school gym and Zoey turned back to me rolling her eyes.
"So annoying. But no, really. What's up is that Thalia chick is becoming, like, an idol to everyone. They've been making posters for her to come out about who she is all around Virginia Beach schools. The news promoted it last night and now all the little rodents in school are running around making flyer's and crap. It's dumb. I mean, she's not gonna come out just because there are posters." She gives me this You're-Kidding-Me-Right? look.
Darn, didn't think this through. She's got a point. I'm most definitely not coming out now. Guess I'll play along.
"Yeah, I know right? It is dumb." I try to roll my eyes and look casual by huffing out my words. Not even working. Trying Harder Mode: On. "Who makes flyer's anyways? She could be home-schooled for all we know."
Yes! Bingo! I'm a freaking genius! Go, me!
"Exactly! But I doubt she's home-schooled because somebody told the news that she has a boyfriend. And it's sort of hard to be in a relationship or get one if you're home-schooled. But you never know. They're taking this too far to me." Never in my life have I loved Zoey so much.
Most of the time, she makes me want to drive a Popsicle stick through her cornea.
"Well, I don't feel like talking about her, she's probably annoyed with all the attention." A simple agreeing grunt comes from Zoey. So enthusiastic. "What else is going on? Did Ben get in trouble with the cops for naturally polluting yet?" Oh, the stink.
She lets out a short laugh crossing her arms. "No. But he will soon if he doesn't have a confrontation with soap and water." Her greenish eyes look behind me and she gets the biggest smile on her face, barrelling toward someone. No need to turn around. It's Zack. She basically blew up my phone all Sunday and was rambling on and on about how close they've gotten.
Good for her that she's not living some double or maybe triple life that would interfere with her daily living. Then there's me going along a pathway to doom. Then I'll trip over air and keep going again.
I haul my backpack up on my shoulder and start walking towards Mr. B's room. School doesn't start for another ten minutes but whatever, I'll walk alone since Ryan doesn't know how to reply to text messages. Maybe his parents found out he was dating an awkward girl so they banned him from associating with my kind.
I'm just going to go with that so my feelings aren't hurt.
My feet hit the fungus floor in English class and I stop in my tracks. Crap-alonie they did not just do this. There's no flipping way that they actually took the time last night and this morning to do this. Are they really that desperate for Thalia? Since when was this cool? Never. It's not cool and if I was Thalia (which I am), I would take this as stalkerish and obsessive.
Only the Limbers and students with no lives dec-out an English room trying to convince a superhero to show her identity. All over the white-bricked walls are posters. Posters, posters, school assignments of people who failed, and more posters.
Thalia show yourself! I have cookies!
What if I'm allergic?
Thalia!!! Tell us who you really are! Children love you!
What if I hate the sound of children's laughter?
If you don't come out and tell us who you are, where you live, and if I'll be your new boyfriend... I'll cut you.
If anything, that'll scare me away and it's a death threat. Not exactly the best way to get a girl.
"Hey, Rose? Yeah, move. You're blocking the whole doorway." Who dares to speak to me in such a lingo?! I whip around to face class jerk, Richie. Never mind, Rich, go on. I don't even have time for you and your fat mouth today.
Moving aside, he purposely bumps into me and makes way to his seat. If only he knew who I was he would not have just done that knowing I can toss him out the window. And just hope some vulture thinks he's dead and pecks away at his empty head.
That'd be nice.
Still gazing at the psych-posters, I make way to my desk and sit my butt down before I end up knocking somebody out. Remain calm and think of the happy things in life. Like the fact that someday you know Richie will be in prison for taxidermizing a Bald Eagle.
The final bell rings its gut wrenching tune and Mr. B closes the door. He even walks weird. He kicks out one foot carelessly making the illusion that he's a walking piece of jello.
"Okay, class-i-deers! As you can see, or not see, but most likely see; today the whole county is recognizing our new hero! We know she attends one of the schools here and we aren't sure which one so we're offering things to encourage her to show out!" He bites his lower lip and pumps his fist in the air enthusiastically, causing his "greaser" hair to flop out of control. Wouldn't be shocked if it was a wig.
"So if anybody here has any clue as to who she is or some help, let us know straight away! Don't even waste your finkley time with it!" Is that even a word? Just shut up, Anthony. That's right. I used your first name.
Emily's hand raises up in front of me and Mr. B calls on her. "Yes, I was wondering why it's such a big deal. Can't she have her privacy? I mean, she's already saving the city do we really need to know anything else?" Oh, Emily. I'm so glad you don't know it was me who prank called you. Because if people eventually found out, you'd murder me personally.
"Because she's freakin' hot and we're gonna sabotage her relationship. Who doesn't like a chick who's inked? Shows she's fierce," Tim says from next to me. Right. Let's see how far you'd get with that since that guy is Ryan, your best friend. The class laughs at his comment. But I don't find it funny. Steal Ryan and I'll steal you.
"What's up with you, Rose? Being all quiet and crap. Don't worry, your smooching buddy is running late." He playfully nudges my left arm and makes it slide up some. "Hey, did you get tatted?"
"Tatted? Why would I have a tat--" Tattoo! Oh my gosh, I didn't even think of trying to cover up today! I shove the half sleeve as far as it'll go down my arm and jolt up from my seat. Crud, this is terrible! This isn't supposed to happen! I was supposed to run out and grab the tattoo cover up at Walgreen's whenever I had to grab my mom's bottle of Super Anit-Itch Lotion!
"Ms. Parker, where do you think you're going? Class has started." Naw, dip. I'm protecting myself from you enraged dumb clucks. A chair screeches from behind me as I'm almost at the door.
"Don't worry, Mr. B. I got her." Richie, if you come within a blinking distance from me, we're going to tassel. Arms snake their way around my waist and lift me up pressing my back against his stomach. "C'mon, chicka. We have school work to do." He starts dragging me backwards, ignoring my protests.
There's a moment in time when you have options. Sometimes they're good options, sometimes they're options that'll make you rather go streaking in a retirement home. My option here is to either tell Ryan and let him know that I was man handled, or to handle this man myself.
Impulse decision.
"Let me go, Richie!" Kicking and screaming; a good movie and a good defense mechanism that won't blow my cover. My anger is piling up on top of each other like tackle football and as much as I want to contain it, I can't. This is too powerful, even for me. Maybe say, "Hey, I just farted on you.", to get him off. Embarrassing, but it's better than my body malfunctioning and creating an atomic explosion of projectiles.
"I said," Warmth overflows in my eyes. Crap, too late. "Let. Go!" The desk beside me lifts up, overturning sideways, then smacks into Richie with ease, and I hit his hand off from around me right before he falls to the floor, coughing for oxygen with a big desk basically laying over him. Boy, you're over-dramatic and I'm done for.
Without waiting for the class' response I grab my backpack and bolt out of the room. The bathroom; that's where I'll go until next period. Or maybe I'll never come out and hide in there until Taylor Swift makes another song about her boyfriend.
My shoes are the only sounds coming from the hallway as I run, panting, down it towards the woman's restroom. The worst that could happen is some drug addict is in there smoking pot. My nose will probably disintegrate in there but I don't want to stay in Mr. B's class either.
Reaching the the door for the bathroom I calmly walk into the pink glittered wall room taking in a deep breath. Thankfully, there's no pot-smoker's today and it surprisingly smells like a can of air freshener. Maybe Sea Island Cotton?
I hear footsteps rounding the half wall and see me passing by and out of the doorway. Seeing me. Seeing me. Seeing me.
Oh my gosh, seeing me! I do a double take and look outside the door from the door frame and am shown an empty hallway; no one in sight. That chick is sneaky. Let me get a hold on her one more time. I'll make sure she lays off. Should've learned her lesson.
"Hey, Rose." I turn around and see Johnny, the nose boy from Misty's party, leaning against a row of beaten, green lockers. Shoo fly, don't bother me. Why are you even next to the girl's restroom? I'm actually taken now and not only will have my boyfriend sent after you, but the whole soccer team. And they kick way harder than it looks, just saying.
"Don't talk to me. Did you not get the memo the first time I beat your butt left, right, upside down and inside out?" Obviously, he didn't or he'd leave. . . now.
He takes some steps closer to me and smirks. "Babe, don't be that way." Babe? You didn't just cross the line, you picked it up and threw it a mile behind you.
His hand touches my waist cautiously as if he's scared I'll react. Heck yeah, I'm gonna react. I grip it with all my strength, considering it's a lot, and hold it by his side. "If you're smart, you won't lay your fungus hand on me again." Regretfully removing my strong and firm grip, no less than a second later he reaches out again and right when I'm yanked closer to him, he's slammed against the lockers. Hard enough to break a few neck muscles if I was to judge.
"Don't ever touch her again." Ryan's forearm is holding Johnny to the locker as he gasps for air.
"Alright, man. I got it."
My hero.
Well, actually I'm the hero but that's irrelevant.
Johnny runs off down the hall looking like a gorilla. King of the Apes, everybody. "You okay, Rosie?" Ryan's hands grab either side of my face and he looks deep into my hazel eyes. I'm not going to lie to you, Ryan. At least, not yet. Maybe when my secret identity is on the line but for now, I won't lie.
"I'm fine. He's just a jerk." More like a wide-faced, two-timing, son of a shovel, fart-scented, old perv. But I think jerk will suffice.
"Well, I gotta run down and sign into the main office. I'll be in fourth period so see you soon, okay? I gotta talk to you." Oh no. The talk. It's a talk. The talk that means we break up, I'm left lonely for five years, meet a new man, find out he's a murderer and then grow up alone until I die at sixty-seven from high cholesterol. This is going to be a suckish life for me.
I'm still stone still in my spot even when he goes down the stairs and I'm isolated again. Nothing positive today at all. Who even knows where the crap Misty is. Probably too scared that I'll confront her for trying to embarrass me yesterday.
I start to walk to the lower level bathroom and take my phone out to check the time and it falls, skidding across the floor. Great; now I have to walk all the way back over there to get it. Not happening. My hand gestures to my left and the phone picks itself up off the ground and back into my cold hands. Easy as aim, lift, guide.
"What the heck did you just do?!" Smooth, Rose. Smooth. I turn around and face Cora. At least it's not some stranger who'd be all crazy and report me to the cops who'll stab me with questions.
"It's not even what it look--"
"Shut up, Rose! I saw you! Wait, don't shut up! Un-shut up!" What's she bipolar or something, now? What do you want?
I start to take cautious steps to her as if she'll blow. "Cora, you need to calm dow--"
"Calm down?! Calm down?! Let's see you calm down after your best friend magically lifts her phone from the floor! Would you just calm down?! I don't think so! You freakin' lifted it from the floor without laying a speck of flesh on it! Do you wanna explain this or something?" Do I want to explain it? No. Will I not explain it and let you walk away to tell the whole world? No, that'll be a problem.
"Cora! Seriously! Calm down! It was a magic trick!"
She lets out a hardy laugh. "Magic trick my great grandma! That was freakin' magic!" Well, let's make me sound like a witch, eh? Before I speak, the bell rings for second period.
"Can we talk about this later? I'll explain it all but just not right now. And please don't tell anyone, Cora." Because if you do there will be issues and a policeman at my house, searching for evidence.
She crosses her arms and starts to think about it. Just agree so I can go hide somewhere, girl. "Fine. I was only here to 'check on you' in the first place. You're coming over my house after school." Sure, just demand me to go places why don't you? I have a half-life too, you know.
No, I don't. No normal child can do what I do. I'm defying the laws of life as I breathe. Rotten kids fill the hallway going to classes and our school's two-toned, Do-Re-Mi bell rings signalling an announcement.
"Hello, students of Lakeview! Ryan Skaggs, here. I have an important announcement to make for you all! The 2012 Lake's Got It Talent Show auditions will be held, Thursday! Get into the fall spirit and try out! Hope to see you there! Have a great day, Wolves. Keep a positive attitude!"
Crud, more stress. Three gray hairs? Coming right up.
*authors note: how bout that new line divider? :D if it doesnt show up on ipod and iphone or whatever, imma get rid of it.. vote and comment :) Chapterly Question: Aw snap! Cora knows! Whatcha think'll happen? ;) Who's your favorite character? Why?*