Mean Girl

Alexia had no respect for me. Since the 3rd grade when she moved into my neighborhood 3 houses down from mine; she has turned my once peaceful world upside down. I was never the most popular kid in our class before Alexia moved in, but I was still liked and respected by the students and my teachers. I never talked back, I always turned in my homework, and I even help tutor other kids after school like I was a teacher-aid. I have never been told I was pretty, smart, or special in all my life, so I just went through life day to day usually ignored by the boys and barely acknowledged by the girls in my class. I was shy and never had enough nerve to go up to any group of girls to ask if I could play with them. Mostly during lunch period I would sit at the table in the back corner of the lunch room and eat by myself. I didn’t seem to have anything in common with the other girls anyways. They always were giggling and pointing at which boy Susan or Tammy liked that day. Or they would just compare each others outfits and bicker about whose ensemble was prettier than the others. My parents were earthy people and never paid much attention to the latest fashion or anything materialistic at all. We were probably the only family on our block that didn’t have any televisions in the house. My parents gave me books and we would play board games together as a family to pass the time. Both my parents are archeologist and so at least 3 times a year I am pulled out of school to accompany my parents on an excavation somewhere exotic. By the time I was in 8th grade I have been to over 20 countries. Egypt was my most favorite trip of them all, because seeing a pyramid in a book or a movie from school never captures the true beauty and magic the man made structures really have. Because of the way I have been raised I have always been the odd person out at school socials. Alexia only made me stand out more by the way she would instinctually seek me out to make my days at school hell. Alexia was 100% gorgeous even in 3rd grade when she walked into our classroom for the first time she beamed a bright light. Her golden hair hung wavy down to the middle of her back. She would always fling it across her shoulder wafting her strawberry shampoo smell right into the boys face and they all would be in awe of her magnificence. Her clothes always looked brand new and I could never tell if she ever got dirty. Even at recess playing 4 square or Tetherball she always came back to class spotless and not a hair out of place. All the girls wanted to be her best friend and all the boys wanted to be her boyfriend. I would just stare at here like the way my mom stared at a new artifact found under a rock. At first I thought she was amazing and full of grace. I guess when she looked at me she felt the complete opposite. I would sometimes catch her staring at me in class with her nose crinkled up with distain and malice all over her face. She would look at me like I had been bathing with pigs and lived in an underground cave. I never understood why she never liked me. She hardly spoke to me until one day in 6th grade. We got locker assignments and for some reason the Gods were angry with me and made the both us locker partners. As soon as she found out her partner was me; the game was on for her. She made sure every day of school was made difficult for me to deal with. She would be standing by our locker with her group of friends, and when she would see me coming, she would say very loudly, “Here comes the Lord of the Flies!, she is so ugly the government moved Halloween to her birthday!” They would all cackle like a group of witches around a cauldron. I would never make eye contact, and just try to hurry and get what I needed out of that locker as fast as I could because the insults never stopped, they just got louder and worse than the last one. People would stop what they were doing just to watch, listen, and laugh at me being humiliated day after day.


By the time we were both in high school she would still make sly comments as she passed me in the hall, but she didn’t make a show about it like she did during middle school. I was a depressed teenager, I was isolated and alone most days. Senior year I was walking home from school one day and after that day my life has never been the same. The normally busy street was unusually empty while I was walking along the sidewalk, and then I heard the rumble of an engine coming from behind me. I didn’t bother to look to see who it was because nobody looks to see who I am. My head was down looking at the sidewalk cracks as I walked along and suddenly I hear someone scream, “Bomb is dropping!!” And next thing I knew I was hit from the top of my head with a large cup of chocolate milkshake. The cup and straw fell to the ground and my entire head and upper body was drenched with the wet cold shake. In shock I look up to see who did this to me and there she was hanging out of her boyfriend’s sun roof yelling “Loooser!!!!” as he drove away. I heard them all laughing. I began to cry. My eyes immediately swelled and hot streams of tears were flowing from me like the shake was flowing off my head. I wanted to just kill myself after that. Year after year Alexia has gone out of her way to make me feel like I was not good enough to be on this earth. As far as she was concerned I was dead to her already. I had nothing to clean up with, so I just kept walking home with chocolate milkshake all over me. With every step it would just drip off my head and fingers leaving a trail like I was a slug. At the time I felt like a slug or something worse. I finally turned on my block and I found myself standing in front of Alexia’s house. Her boyfriend’s car was parked in her driveway and I could here them laughing and carrying on in the house. I was so angry! I wanted revenge. 10 years she has tortured me and I never retaliated once. Today was the day to fight back!

Breathing hard and blinded by my tears I walked to my house. Neither of my parents were home, they were actually out of the country and wouldn’t be back for another 5 days. I walked upstairs, took off my clothes, and took a quick shower. Still blinded by my anger, I put on some black sweat pants and shirt and ran downstairs to our garage. I found what I was looking for. I grabbed the can of gasoline and a book of matches. I was in a trance, my mind was blank, and my eyes could only see red. I casually walked to Alexia’s house and began to pour the gasoline around the parameter of her house. I sprayed all of the door knobs and windows with a sealant I found in the garage. It was the middle of the afternoon and nobody saw what I was doing. Alexia and her friends didn’t hear what I was doing either. After saturating the house really good I took the match book out of my pocket. I stood there, frozen in time, dazed; my mind was still in a trance. It was like I was having an out of body experience. I began to walk back home, but just before I left her lawn I struck the match and threw it in her yard.

I woke up a few hours later in my bed. My room was dark and the house was empty. The sound of the sirens didn’t wake me up, but the silence in my head and my house is what startled me. Now I was back in my body and I remembered what I had done only a few hours earlier. I looked out my window and I could see black smoke still rising where Alexia’s house once stood. I ran outside to see what I did for myself, and the fire truck, police, and ambulance was still parked outside her house. The firemen put the fire out, but the house was burnt so badly only the support beams stood. The entire neighborhood was outside crowded behind the yellow tape. I swallowed hard. I walked up to my neighbor Mrs. Jefferson and asked her what happened like I didn’t already know. She looked at me with tears in her eyes. She said, “Oh my goodness, it’s so horrible. I can’t believe this happened in our neighborhood!” She began to cry harder now and her body shook. I instinctually held her. I tried to comfort her and tell her it was an accident. Just as those words part my lips I seen the EMT people wheel out 4 body bags; slowly loading them up in the back of the ambulance’s. As I held Mrs. Jefferson still crying on my shoulder, I felt numb and emotionless. I actually felt relief like a load has been lifted from my chest. In between sniffles Mrs. Jefferson said she over heard one of the detectives say that looked like a homicide and foul play was a definite factor. She said that she hopes they catch the monster that did such a thing to 4 young beautiful kids. I just patted her on her back and said, “I am sure they will do everything in their power to find out who did this.”

V-Day writing assignment

You're alone at home watching an episode of Law and Order when you hear a light knock at your door. You hesitantly get up from the couch to answer it, but find no one is there. You look around curiously only to find a Valentine's day card sitting on your welcome mat.





'Who is knocking on my door at this time of night?' I said to myself outloud as I wrapped my snuggie over my torso and slowly walk towards the door. I tip toed softly over the carpet and gently looked through the peep hole. I see nothing. I stand there waiting for another knock; I hear nothing except the stupid State Farm commercial on T.V. I peep through my living room curtains and nobody is there. I took a deep breath and slowly opened the front door. I see nothing but the dark night, street lights, and at my feet I saw a sealed envelope. 'What tha?' I said outloud again. I am scared now because I live alone and hardly never get visitors, especially uninvited visitors. I grab the envelope and rush to close the door. I put the chain on and double locked every lock to feel a little more safe. The envelope was lumpy like something other than a letter or card was inside. With nothing but the T.V. making noise in my house I walk back to my couch and sit down. I placed the envelope on my coffee table and just stared at it for only a minute. It was a deep red color with one large pink heart sticker sealing it closed on the back. There is no name or address on it anywhere. I can't tell if maybe this was delivered to the wrong house, maybe my neighbor Kimberly was supposed to get this. She is young, cute, and always goes on dates with random guys. I thought about taking it over to her, but I had no proof it belonged to her. I guess the only way to find out who it is for is to open it. I don't know why I am so scared, but this feels so wrong and strange. I picked up the evelope and with my index finger I opened the pink heart sticker seal and slowley pulled out a card. Just as I pulled it out half way something wet began to seep out of it. I felt something drip on my big toe and when I looked down I noticed it was as crimson as the color of th envelope. I jerked irractly while still holding the card and the rest of it came out on my coffee table. It was indeed a Valentine card because of the gaudy heart designs on the front, but I couldn't get over the shock of the severed finger taped to the fron of the card. I couldn't scream, I just jumped on the arm of my couch and began to hyperventalate. I must of passed out because awhile later I woke up on my living room floor next to my couch. My head hurt real bad too, I must have fell on my side table on my way down. I slowley looked at my table and the card was gone! The blood stain was still on my big toe, but the card and any evidence of it being in my house was gone. I quickly got up from the floor; which was a bad idea because the blood didn't catch up to my brain and I almost passed out again. I caught myself on my chair before I fell and made myself breath slowly. That breath quickly turned into panic because I also noticed my T.V. was no longer on. The house was pitch dark and I didn't know if I was alone anymore. I ran to the kitchen to call the police, but just as I reached the doorway a large man came walking towards me. I stopped in mid stride, my eyes were wide open trying to focuse in the dark, and my instincts took over as I began to run the opposite direction. Fear was coursing through my veins like venom and my heart was skipping beats as I ran away from my kitchen towards my front door. I heard his gradual footsteps coming after me and all I could do was pray. 'Dammit!' I yelled, the door was not easy to get out of because I locked every lock on it! I fumbled with the chain until that unlatched, I began to twist the first lock when I felt a large wet hand on my right shoulder. I jumped and turned around to only see my ex-husband standing there with a wide grin and a very sharp knife. I began to scream for help, but he pushed his hand hard against my face. I could taste his wet salty skin, that dripped with something I could not see. He said, "Happy Valentine's Day sweetie! Did you miss me?" I couldn't answer him because my mouth was muffled and I just kept trying to scream for help. Nobody could hear me. That is when I noticed his ring finger; the one that use to wear our wedding ring was missing and his hand was bleeding perfusly from his wound. 'He cut off his own finger?' I thought to myself. I knew he was crazy, but never to the point of insanity like now. Through his hand I wanted to bite his wound hoping I could maybe get away, but I couldn't because he was too strong and I couldn't move my head at all.


The scene turned black.



The homocide detectives found the card in the kitchen after followng the trail of blood. There were two dead bodies in the house; a woman's body who had her throat slit from ear to ear laying by the front door, and a man's body with multiple stab wounds in his torso that looked self inflicted and a missing ring finger.



Inside the card read:

My love grew deep

like the 6foot steep

hole I dug for your sleep

every waking moment

of the rest of your life

will only be remembered

by the edge of my knife!

Love is forever,

Gary

The Formula

The undefined terms
point the way to
the line that never ends
into a plane of nothingness.
The geometrical spiral
warms the center of my radius
and quivers the diameter through
my circumference and wets the parameter
in a way...
In a way a line has no beginning or end
like the circle of my soul
searching how to use pie to
my advantage.
Studying each dimension
the area measures the interior
of my veins
pulsing through each square unit
of my plane
Increasing the volume of passion
rising with each cubic unit
until I'm overflowing into
obtuse positions
that invite complementary vertical angles
that will keep you strait for hours
Eventually the vertex of our love will come to an endpoint.
180 degrees later the light of our ray will fade
into another dimension.