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Jesus Was Gother Than You.

Shriek · 2005-11-04T22:20:46Z

Jesus Was Gother Than You. Written November 4, 2005 Personally, I don’t understand what everyone finds so attractive about you and that lime green makeup you powder over your eyes every morning. It’s loud, blatantly obnoxious, makes your eyes look small and beady. Fits your personality perfectly, of course. It’s too bad you can’t be as opaque as that awful green powder makes you seem, sweetie. I notice you and your electric eyelids slithering towards me during fifth period lunch. My stomach delivers a foreboding lurch as I breathe in your suffocating cigarette and hairspray fumes. Tempting as it is to vomit my chicken-cheese-and-mayo sandwich all over the front of your 'the Killers' t-shirt, I refrain and push the lump of dairy, meat, and bread to the top of my soft palate. You tower over my chair, hand on your hip, eyes flitting around my abandoned lunch table before settling on my emaciated form. A smirk of arrogance is plastered on your ugly little face—you have the entire world on your side, and you know it. I’ve got a chemistry textbook, a few napkins littered with lyrics, and a half eaten sandwich. “Hi.” I am frostily polite, defiantly swallowing the lump-turned-brick in my throat. “Anyone sitting here?” you laugh, your voice dripping with mockery. You take a seat without waiting for my reply and drum your black manicured fingernails casually on the sticky tabletop. “So my friends and I were wondering,” you say, gesturing over to the table where you eat with your legion of followers. “Are you a lesbian?” You ask this almost nonchalantly, opening my bag of Cheez-Its and dumping them onto the table. “Word is you’re thinking of taking Emily Mitchell to homecoming.” You smile, flashing those pointy white fangs mercilessly. I focus on a patch of grime caked on the cafeteria wall, suppressing emotion. “Leave me alone, Dani,” I force through clenched teeth. “What? Am I bothering you?” you ask, your devilish grin feigning innocence. I watch as you trace a Cheez-It across the table with your pinkie finger. Yes. I take another bite of my sandwich. “Lyndsey,” you say, your expression of concern reading fake and unconvincing. “I’m shocked that we can’t talk like two civilized people anymore! Why, it was only yesterday that—“ That what? That we entered high school and you, little by little, stopped returning my calls, stopped acknowledging my ‘hey’ in the halls, stopped responding to my existence? Only yesterday that you started cutting yourself in order to be popular, in order to fit in with your little band of wrist-slitting, cigarette puffing brand-named pals? Only yesterday that you ran off to get wasted every weekend, using me as your damned excuse whenever Daddy asked where you were? Only yesterday that you let your friends beat up my brother and take his money— and his dignity? EVEN THOUGH YOU KNEW THAT HE WAS AUTISTIC? EVEN THOUGH YOU’VE KNOWN HIM SINCE YOU WERE SEVEN YEARS OLD? EVEN THOUGH YOU KNEW HE WAS HELPLESS AND SENSITIVE AND MY BROTHER ?! Was it only yesterday, Dani? Only yesterday that you called me “Jesus’ ass-kissing, self-righteous little whore” instead of your self-described “best friend”? “—we could tolerate each other.” Silence. You pout, pushing your lip ring into my field of vision. I want to rip it off your face. Instead, I bite my own lip and fight tears. “Are you done yet?” I choke. “Because I could have sworn I asked you to leave me THE HELL alone .” I hear my voice break. A tear spills down my cheek. I hate you. I watch your eyes narrow into slits; your tar-coated lips pull into a snarl. "Bitch,” you hiss under your breath before getting up, pivoting on your heel, and walking away. I gather my books, scoop up the remaining Cheez-Its in my palm, and dump them into the garbage as I exit the cafeteria. What a waste.

Shriek

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Points 890

Reviews 196

Fri Apr 14, 2006 10:51 pm

Shriek says... · Fri Apr 14, 2006 10:51 pm

Wow! You have no idea how surprised I was to see this old thing pulled back up on the front page. Thanks again, TBR. : )

Reich: Hey, thank you. That means a lot coming from one of the older, well respected members of the site.
Dammerung: Thanks for the comment! I appreciate it.

i thought you were shallow, but then i fell in deep.

Quote

The secret of life is honesty and fair dealing. If you can fake that, you've got it made.
— Groucho Marx

Jesus Was Gother Than You.

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