Five Minutes to Midnight {part 1}

just remember if you really like it, I'll post more. my s/n is socially_outrageous. it's a working progress, so if there are any problems, or stuff u'd like to critizie, plz do, because i love writing and i want to get better as i get older. thanks!

There’s something about Mason Ghendirs that makes me want to grind my head into the concrete floor.  Maybe, it’s just me, but it seems like we’re stuck together all the time.  Twenty four hours a day.  Every f*****g day.  Well, first of all, he’s an a*s.  He lives a few blocks from me and likes to walk up and down the street with his punkass friends like they’re all that.  Second of all, he hates me.  I don’t know what I did to deserve his torment, but he hates me. I can feel it, because with every stare, there’s anger behind his eyes.  It’s like he tracks me down.  He can find me, anywhere, anytime, anyhow.  He doesn’t even have to try.  It’s like some kind of magnetic force that brings him closer to me and it f*****g sucks.  I’m a walking target.  When he sees me, he makes an effort to reduce me into a humiliating pulp with his ego and “charms” in front of his friends, so he looks “cool”.  Usually, I think…what the f**k?  What’s his f*****g deal?  It’s like his grandparents had a huge world war three with my grandparents and now he’s after me, because it would supposedly be all my fault.  Just because I’m alive.  

 

He doesn’t do this to anyone else.  Well, he does—but I’m his favorite victim.  I feel special…

 

Oh and by the way, my name is Regina.  But people call me Genie.  But, hey—I’m deprived.  I’ve got nothing, so don’t go f*****g asking me for f*****g three wishes.  Selfish audience…PSYCHE!  Just playin'... 

 

                I guess I should explain myself and explain my situation.  Well, anyways, I have no siblings.  None.  My parents thought I was a mistake.  They’re afraid to make a second one.

 

                When I was three, I swallowed my granny’s pills and had to get my stomach pumped.  And, uh, I like Froot Loops…um, my favorite color is swirls.  You know, swirls?  Twisted swirl of the rainbow.  Yeah, I knew you knew what I was talking about.

 

                Hmm, let me see…Tito is my BFF.  My black Labrador.  She’s a cutie, but she’s tough.  She won’t stand for your bullsh!t.  Neither will I…except I haven’t actually, well, “sat down”…yet.  But I will.  Just you wait.

 

                I hate people sometimes.  I can be with them for one moment, but then I don’t want to know where you’re going, who you’re with, where Costa Rica is, and how fun it was last summer—I don’t give a f**k.  Sorry, but I can’t handle so many people in one room.  So you can tell I hate the mall just as badly.  Too.  Many.  People.

 

                But, overall, I think I’m a pretty decent person.  You think so too?  What gave it away?

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I hate people today.  I might have already mentioned that.  So I am sitting in Bio class, doodling and scribbling, and doing things I shouldn't be, but I am--anyways, Mr. Green--yes, as in Recycle-My-A*s Green, that Mr. Green--calls on me, wondering what c6-h12-o6 stands for.  Well, if he knows what it is, why is he asking me?

"I'm not sure, Mr. Green." I mutter.

"What?  Speak up.  I'm having trouble hearing."

I squint my eyes at him.  The crackhead has trouble hearing everyday.

"I said, I dunno."

"We just went over this, Genie.  Casey?  Tell Genie what it stands for?"

Stupid, f*****g Casey and her fvcking smartass comments.

"Well, Mr. Green, it's obviously the chemical formula for glucose, fructose, and galactose."

"And Casey?  How can we tell them apart?" he asked again, eyeing me.

She smiled, wickedly.  I so badly want to give her the middle finger. 

"By their chemical structure, of course."

"Suck up." I snort, under my breath.

"What was that, Genie?"

I imagine myself saying, she's a b***h, but don't.  Because..well, I got a 90% in this class...and you know...not a 89%. 

"Nothing." I spat.

Mason nudged my arm.  I seized away from him.  He's like a virus.  He even has the sh!t to sit next to me.

"God, Genie.  You're such a f**k up." he whispered so close I could almost smell his revolting breath.

I didn't say anything.  If I give him the attention, he'll return it later.

Casey returned to her smartass-ness.  Mr. Green returned to his lesson.  Everyone returned to their work.  And I....well, I returned to my doodling.

 

 

Reviews

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There is the feeling of apathy-with-anger here, or perhaps the other way around. It's very clearly suggested.

You really caught me with the first paragraph. It's great.

Suggestion: double-space between them. It helps give your readers a "rest" as the story advances, keeps their attention longer.

I look forward to reading more soon!

Best--