One

As my so called enemies disappear, I feel no need to reconcile our differences. For they are gone permanently because of the battle. They are dead. And I have killed them.

I sit comfortably on the bathroom floor inside the last stall. I feel the icy floor and wall through my jeans and thin white t-shirt. A shiver runs up my spine quickly, anticipating the day’s close that I know will not come soon enough. Leaning my head against the wall I feel the cold sink into my scalp. I can detect the ridges between each tile. The smoothness of the grey tile and the rough concrete that separates each one. A deep breath. The strong scent of Lysol and bleach burns my nose until I decide to bury my head in my arms. My location on earth: Southridge High School, 179200 Baker Street, West Bridge, Michigan; science wing, 2^nd bathroom next to Mrs. Laney’s room, corner stall on the right. I hear the door swing open and the shuffle of feet makes my whole body tense. Can they see me? Do they know I’m here? My thoughts race, possible solutions rush into my mind: sit on the toilet, crouch standing on the toilet, stand in the corner, go out and face life…

            I remain frozen in place and the footsteps are gone before my thoughts have completed. A sigh of relief escapes my lips and again my mind is wandering. I did not realize the day I started hating school, but it is clear now. I hate being here most of all. In this stall. It’s not even a choice. Honestly, where else could I be? Where else do I fit in? I have no desire to rejoin my old friends, nor do I wish for new ones, who will disappoint me as well. I have no choice but to isolate myself. Only then can I be myself �" which I still have not discovered. But even here, on this isle, I am regulated by their rules and regulations. I am not allowed to be isolated, lonely, or lost in public, because that attracts pity and awkwardness, which are forbidden in my world as a sign of weakness. So I must suffer this burden in silence. Rewind to the days where I did not hate my school, or fast forward to the moment when I am here no longer. The only interruption comes from the ringing school bell. I stand and brush my jeans off. Lunch is over but my stomach is growling. I take a Snickers bar out of my pocket and place it in a nook in the wall. The nook is so cleverly hidden that you’d only notice it if you had stared at the wall for over an hour, I’m sure. The Snickers bar fits perfectly. I’ll save it for tomorrow; I know I’ll be hungry.

            Again my stomach growled, feeling pain and emptiness simultaneously. In the halls I walk swiftly, avoiding eye contact with anyone. The few ‘hellos’ I hear �" I ignore. I assume it was my mistake; they weren’t talking to me. Maybe it was their mistake �" for saying ‘hi’ to me. I entered my Calculus class over ten minutes late; still, I attempted to slip in unnoticed.

            “Thank you for joining us, Nicole,” Mrs. Perkins chimed as she scribbled a problem on the board.

            “You’re welcome,” I responded, taking my usual seat in the back row.

            “Now that you’re here, may we begin, Ms. Gordon?” she asked, turning to face me. I painted a fake smile on my face and nodded eagerly, though I despised her for drawing so much attention to me. “Now does anyone know the limit of x as it approaches 3? I’ve written the problem here on the board.” It became painfully obvious that no one knew the answer, and I sunk down in my seat, hoping Mrs. Perkins would not decide to continue our conversation. “Nicole? Any guesses? I see there is nothing on your desk, so I assume you already know the answer. Am I right?” she spoke sweetly and I groaned loudly, so that the entire class could hear.

            “Infinity?” I guessed, saying the first thing that came to mind.

            “No. The limit does not exist,” she retorted, “maybe you’d know that if you came to class once in a while.” A low rumble of giggles and whispers erupted. Mrs. Perkins’ life purpose was to humiliate her students, but today was not the right day. Her back faced the class again, but I stood anyway. Smiles spread across the room as they anticipated my response.

            “Your right, Miss Perkins,” I began, “if I came to class more often, I would know the answer. I can tell everyone else in class knew since, you know, we learn so much here.” I titled my head to the left, my fingertips just grazed the desk, placed there lightly and strategically. I leaned forward, putting weight on my hands as I continued. “And maybe if you were married, you wouldn’t be such a b***h.” Her jaw dropped to the floor.

            “Excuse me?” she asked as her arms fell to her sides and her eyebrows raised.

            “I didn’t stutter, Mrs. Perkins,” I spat.

            “Ugh! Oh my! You, no… you! Get out of my class!” she screeched, pointing towards the door.

            “That’s my punishment? Sound more like reward,” I mumbled, gathering my coat and bag.

            “And detention!” she added, “today after school!”

            “Nope,” I casually called over my shoulder.

            “What did you say? Should I call the principle too? Have you suspended?” I paused mid-stride, spinning around.

            “No, Miss Perkins, because I have therapy today after school. Can’t you tell? I’m crazy.” I walked out of class before she came up with a response. No, today was not the right day.

            As I enter the hallway, I am shaken from my trance and returned to the state I reside in. School’s not over but I walk towards those glimmering green doors. They’ve been calling me all day and now I am too weak to ignore their cries. I want to taste that fresh air on my tongue, feel a cigarette between my lips. A smile is on my face for the very first time today. I almost finished a whole day �" that’s an accomplishment and this is my reward. Oh well, I’ll try again tomorrow. Or maybe not…who gives a f**k?

 

Reviews

[Tegon Maus]

Hi

Interesting... your hunger comment is the most compelling. I have to wonder if it’s self imposed or a sign of neglect... perhaps a total lack of resources. The smart mouth and “Who gives a f**k?” attitude is typical teenage stuff. I’m not the demographic. I think if this is going to be a story... or book it will need to flow better. Maybe explain better or just hint at why you’re hiding out in the bathroom and why THIS ONE stall offers you a level of comfort the others don’t. Perhaps because of the loss of ‘old friends’.... BFF died in a car crash... long term boyfriend cheated on you with your sister... something to create an emotional thread to carry through to the end of the story. The ‘Bad girl’ thing will wear thin quickly and isn’t enough on it’s own to hold long term interest.

Tegon

[Rose of Gondor]

Delicate imagery fitted to the perfect tense for this story. Nicole has the attitude of an average teenage girl, and may not be too interesting if you continue the stereotype. Give her personality traits that would make her unique. I also wonder why she's hiding in the stall/hiding from the cafeteria when she should be eating and why she wants no friends. Already you've drawn me to this character and made me care about the story. Now it's just the matter of developing Nicole to be her own person instead of making her like the billions of teens across the world. I'm becoming steadily interested in your plot! You begin in a high school setting with a character who hates coming to school...Gosh, I wonder what could happen next!!!

Hope the advice I gave wasn't too terrible, and gosh, this was a great read!

[~Sorcha~]

I like the character, you have typical teen drama going on and all that, bring out how there are teachers we all just wanted to a give a good say to; but honestly, that feels like all there is. You have detailed nothing as of yet to why she hides, why she honestly hates the school and ignores everyone and everything as she can. You have a great start, but you need to go into depth with this for it to go anywhere. Bring more to your character than just a smart a*s. Otherwise, it is a pretty good start. You have pretty good detail, especially in the bathroom itself. I can connect with the character on that point, I used to hide out in the bathroom when I just couldn't be around people. But you really do need to go into why she is there, what makes her seek shelter there and find comfort in the cold prism that the bathroom stall can be seen as.

If you don't mind; the stall is a cold freedom, entrapping her like a prism inside the school, surrounded by those which she hates and in a sense fears, yet this one place, this one solitude is where she feels the most freedom. The cold seeps into her body, freeing her mind to wander, and yet it seems to wander always and forever to why she huddles inside a place so cold, so unfeeling, so empty.
That is the kind of feeling I start to get, but I feel like I am left hanging in a sense when she gets up to go to class. You go through her thoughts slightly in the split second a person enters, but you barely glance it. You could work into it so much more and give so much more depth to your character alone in that one miniscule second, but it feels untouched where so much potential resides.


Submitting into your contest Review 4 Review btw. Run - Sorcha will be mine hehe.

[Sophie]

I loved this! I know so much about her character even though you rarely come right out and say "I'm a smartass." or something. I would love to read more and I'm subscribing (ps, I entered in your contest)

[Archia]

I feel that I so much about Nicole, that I know what's she like, but then I also feel I don't understand her at all, she's much too complicated. I love that, it shows the complexity of her and so much more. At first I thought she was quiet and all that, but then that was all thrown up, but then again, at the end, it's almost like she fell back to that. It's wonderful.
I enjoyed the conversation between her and the teacher, it really showed more about her character and her life. And then the last line, still shows even more about her, and it does give a good opening to the rest of the story.
". Smiles spread across the room as they anticipated my response." This really shows what the others expect of her, and how she must then have a reputation.
There were times though, when I did get confused about her life, and I think it may enhance the story if you do put a bit more of history in, like why she doesn't like her old friends, nor wants to make new ones.
Also I have no idea of what is going to happen in the story, but I'm still deciding if that's a good or bad thing. If you put another chapter up (which I really hope you do), then I think a bit of clarification is needed in it on where this is going. The first chapter just acts like an introduction, but the second chapter needs some structure.
I like how her thoughts are in italics, it's make them more real, almost like she's talking to herself, but not.
I like the idea of her 'trance' being when she's most assertive, instead of the usual other way around.
All in all, I think this is really quite good, and it could end up as an amazing book.

[eatmills]

I disagree with the other reviewers, liked the opening paragraph. All alone in the bathroom stall dreading the reality of life. That was a strong opener allowing the reader to ask the questions why and thus baiting them to want to read more. I like that you have not tied down the story to the complexities of surrounding details forcing the reader to develop their own mental scenery since everyone should have some concept of what a school looks like on the inside. As for the flow I have no issues, it was quick and punchy just like what Nicole's persona seems to be in the snippet.

Editing fixes - "...I titled my head to the left." Should be tilted. If the teacher has never been married shouldn't her title be Ms. and not Mrs.? and Ms. Gordon's title should have been Miss Gordon as Miss is the proper title for young females.

- eatmills

Ps. loved your contest rule.

[Ice Girl]

That was good. I like it.

[Rick Puetter]

Hi ayn0nimus,

Very nicely written. Holds your attention. No problem there. Sometimes a bit wordy and could be tightened. Some technical problems such as sentences ending in prepositions (I do that too, hence the sensitivity), spelling problems (e.g., the teacher would call the principal, not the principle), and minor other issues (e.g., it's not concrete between the tiles but grout). Still, none of these really detract. This is a well written and interesting story.

In summary, high marks. Greatly enjoyed.

Best regards,

Rick

[Andrew Scorah]

This is well written and enough info to let you know your protagonist is troubled by something, you start off by making the reader think that she is shy, awkward and introverted then she goes all ballsy on us with the teacher, with a little thought and planning this could evolve into an excellant story.

[Bri]

This is really good, I love all the descriptions! This kinda makes me wish i had the balls to do that in front of a teacher xD