The Dilemma

When Belle sees a strange change in Stacy, there's only one thing to do: Ask what's going on.

"I'm trying out something new," Stacy says, a smug smile on her face.

Belle snorts at her comment, shaking her head at the ridiculous clothes her best friend is wearing. She has respect for the goths out there, but seeing its style on one of the most shyest girl Belle's ever met just doesn't feel like black should be worn that much in one outfit.

Stacy frowns and pats down on her ripped jeans causing the chains to jingle. "You don't like it?"

"Not that I don't like it... It just doesn't suits..." Belle trails off, cocking her head to the side to see maybe she just needs a different perspective of the look. Skin-tight, ripped, black jeans, bulky black boots, a black tee that Stacy outgrew seven years ago, leather jacket, chains on everything, and practically everything that screamed goth was on her delicate body. Don't like it doesn't feel like the right words at all to state this unbearable sight.

There has been many changes like this in Stacy for the past three months. She first went techno, and it took her four weeks to stop talking like a robot, then she went preppy, dressing up just like Barbie on Valentine's Day, and now, gothic. No words. None. Nada to describe this breakdown.

Belle can only sense something bad going on in her mind. She figured that out the second Stacy received a B- on her essay in social studies. Never has Belle seen Stacy fail that bad. Even the teachers were disappointed.

"Is there something wrong at home? 'Cause if there is, you can always talk to me." Belle softens her voice to make sure nobody else in the hall can hear. It's bad enough that Stacy is going through some breakdown, but to have the school know about it? That just makes having a B- on Stacy's essay feel like heaven.

Stacy doesn't respond right away. Instead, she bites down on her lower lip, staring off at the distance, debating silently in her head. "Well," she starts off slowly, fixing her eyes on Belle's. "My mom believes I lack personality, my dad thinks I'm a lesbian, my brother accused me of stealing, my sister made me lie, and my cousin thinks that I have no life. So basically, I'm channeling all my stress, sadness, and confusion on my body, but in a more healthy way. No worries, I'm not dying or anything, I'm just... Frustrated."

After a few seconds of her rant, Belle nods slowly, making sure she caught every word. "That's all you needed to say," Belle says, smiling softly and linking her arm through Stacy's.

Stacy sighs with relief, her head leaning against Belle's pointed shoulder. She can never think of anyone to replace Belle, especially on a moment like this.

Author's Note

Just a short story for you all to enjoy! :)