Lift

short story; hatred is an ugly thing

*1 > Izzy

There was a point in my life when I wanted to be just like them.  Everyone wanted to be just like them.  They were glamorous, and beautiful....they were everything I was not.  I wanted to be with them, hang out with them, I wanted to BE them.  I thought I could be like them if I were friendly enough.  That was sixth grade and a very naive thought.  In the eighth grade, I had came up to them and asked if I could join their group for a project in science class and they told me there wasn't enough room.  And I would believe them.  Then, I would ask them again for the next project, or try to sit with them at lunch, but they'd leave almost as soon as I sat.  I always thought they were busy or maybe I had to go through some kind of initiation to become their friend.  Then, one day, Catherine, "the leader", pulled me over to the side, pretending to try to make it private, but obviously her friends followed.  She put on this sympathetic smile, her hand on my shoulder, and told me she wanted to have a talk.

"Look, Erin--"

"It's Izzy."

"Izzy."  She smiled.  "It's been fun having you around...but, it's just that we're already friends and, you know, it's nothing personal, but you're driving the men away."

I frowned, confused.  Did I do something wrong?

"It's not you, it's us.  We've been friends for so long...we almost never allow anyone into our silly, little group.  And face it, Erin, you kind of like an ogre.  See, I could give you makeup tips, but I'm pretty sure I'm busy all week and Andy's going on vacation.  Kelsey and Rachel will be practising for the musical all week after school as well.  Maybe some other time, though, okay?"

I got dumped by fake friends.

"Bye, Erin.  Ta ta." she said, giggling with her friends, and walking away.

And I'm an ogre.

______________________________________________________________________________________

Catherine shoved past me, her best friend, Andy, at her side, and the other two followers, Kelsey and Rachel, magnets to their backs.  I had once wanted to be their friend, but now I was obsessed with hating them.  I'm a senior in high school and I still hate them.  I don't think they even remember what they did to me.  How low they thrust my esteem into the ground...  Since that day, I've had this miserable side to me.  Some days I was happy, but then I'd remember my bad luck, or something embarassing that happened last week, and I was miserable all over again.  It was stupid.  What they did to me.  I felt so stupid, pathetic, and most of all, weak.

Catherine has many boyfriends.  One she keeps at school, a good heart and beauty beyond belief, another she hooks up with every weekend, and a thirty year old guy she met online whose become her soulmate.  How do I know this?  That's easy.  She dropped her diary thing on the floor and I went to pick it up and give it back to her...but hatred swallowed me.  I could not bear to part with it before reading some of her nasty s**t she keeps to herself.

I want to post it all on the internet, uncover all her juicy, ugly secrets---to make her feel what I feel.  Like an ogre.  An ugly, disgusting ogre. I try to live by the moto, "A fair face may fade, but a beautiful soul will last forever."  It seems far-fetched, but I'll try.  I try.

It's stupid though, because I feel like I'm in one of those stupid, highschool drama, catty movies where they resolve the problem by de-queening the queen and the geeks suddenly become equal and live happily ever after.  And that only ever happens in the movies.

BUT WAIT--a brilliant thought sprung forward.  This Friday, our whole senior class was being removed from classes to watch some movie about abusive relationships in the auditorium.  Wouldn't it be absolutely unbelievably spectacular if I put it up on display?  Using the auditorium's enormous Smartboard  to display it for everyone to read?  I love it.  The whole idea--I must do it.  Even if I get exposed, even if I get into major trouble, it'll be worth it.  My hatred towards her is stronger than its ever been at this moment.  I just hate her.  I hate her.  Hate her.  HATE her.

_____________________________________________________________________________________ 

    My one and only best friend, Terry, and I were working on the plan to expose Catherine's shiz.  Terry hates her almost as much as I do.  She was the one I came to on that day when Catherine basically called me ugly and shooed me away.  I cried to her and she listened to me.  She's my best friend and I am, hers.  Of course, at first, it seemed like a bad idea to her, but I think temptation couldn't hold her.  We've sworn eachother to secrecy, so that no one will find out. 

    "Oh my God, Terry, I lost it!"

"What?" she asked, panicked.  "Lost what?"

"The diary!  Where'd you put it?  Do you have it?  Because I thought I did, but I don't and---"

"You gave it to me.  It's in my locker."

I laughed, nervously.  "Thank God, I mean, it's Friday, it's our day, we can't initiate this without that trashy diary."

"God, Izzy.  Cool it.  If you're that nervous when we haven't even done anything yet, then I can't imagine you when we're actually putting our plan into action."

______________________________________________________________________________________

I had to pee really badly.  There was only five minutes until we'd go down to the auditorium, and stupid Mrs. Leckner would not answer me.  I've had my arm up for six minutes now and she's ignoring me on purpose.  Stupid c**t.  I started waving my hand.  She sighed, annoyed, and called on me.

"Sorry, Mrs. Leckner, but this is an emergency." I said, getting up to go.

"Alright, get outta here." she answered, and went right back to her lecture.

I ran out as fast as I could.  Terry was going to be so pissed, because I'm so late.  I whizzed by the science and lab rooms, past the english department, and crossed through the courtyard which would lead to the auditorium.  Next to the auditorium was a girl's bathroom, so I could hurry up and pee, then find Terry and go.  I ran into the bathroom and into a stall, pulled down my pants, and peed.  I was just about to get up when I heard someone walk in.  I heard her slump against the cold brick wall of the bathroom and sit down with a thud.  She dropped her books on the ground without a care and tapped her foot lightly, repeatedly.  She seemed nervous, or tired or something.  Restless, maybe.  Then I heard her sniffling; I thought she was crying.  I heard her blow her nose into a tissue, so I stood up on the toilet seat and peeked up to see who it was.  Catherine.  She had her body curled up, her head against her knees, her arms wrapped around her bare legs which were shaking, and she kept jerking like she was terribly sick. 

I never knew Catherine ever cried.  She scolded, she yelled, she whined, and insulted other girls, but I never knew she even had feelings.  Somehow what I was about to do seemed like a horror movie.  Everything seemed so wrong, weird, and out of place.  I feel so...sad.  I wonder why she's so sad.  I hope she feels better, because earlier I wanted her to feel as bad as I did when she broke me down into a pathetic little glob of nothing, but now I don't want anyone to feel how I felt.  I don't want anyone to feel so s****y and crappy.  I don't want anyone to cry the way I did, to feel like a complete idiot when they did nothing wrong.  And in an extremely odd way, I don't want Catherine to feel the way she made me feel.  Disappointed.  Angry.  Upset.  Miserable. Stupid.  Ugly.  So damn f*****g ugly.  And though I don't think I'm ugly anymore, I feel an ugly mass of hatred bleeding inside of me.  It's bubbly, it's potion still kicking, still lively, inside.  This hatred, completely unnecessary, which was what caused all the problems.  I could have taken it for what it was worth, but I hated it.  I hated everyone when Catherine treated me like crap.  I grew an ugly hatred inside of me, something I should have never let in.  Hatred is a wasteful emotion.  And now I must get rid of it.

I let myself out of the stall, disposed of the diary into the trashcan, and walked back to class.  I felt all my problems, all my complications, lift off my shoulders, so I could relax for the first time since I was an ogre.