Inside a Hypocritical Faker

I made it through my second and third class ok, I mean same old same old. No one talked to me. I had math and P.E. I never dressed out for P.E, never saw the need to be judged on how well I could run. Everyone knew that the preppy ass girls passed because the coach, a big perv., gave them a 100 if the looked slutty, which they always do. So I waited for the bell to ring so I could go to lunch. I packed up my sketch book and walked towards the lunch room. I grabbed a plate of nachos and a lot of jalapeños and walked to MY table. I call it MY table because no one else would risk their reputation by sitting with me. I pulled out my note book and pen. I started writing as I ate. "Whacha writing?" I looked up, there was Cat smiling at me. I was a little shocked. "Um a paper for my lit. class next block," I said as I closed my note book. She sat her food down, "Is it ok if I eat with you?" I laughed a little, more like scoffed. "Sure but just know no one will now talk to you, because of it." I took another bit of my chips, then looked at her. She had a questioning look on her face. I rolled my eyes. "You haven't heard?" She shook her head "no". I sighed, "Ok well when I was 6 this man with bright blue eyes killed my family. He was looking for me. Why? I don't know. Once everyone found out about it they simply came up with the idea that I was crazy, killed my OWN family, and made up the whole story with the guy." I told it plain and simple. I never went in to the details, the drug up too many memories. Cat didn't look shocked, more of understandment. "You already heard the rumors," I said out loud. Of course she has, everyone does. She nodded her head, "I did but I wanted to get you view." I was taken back by this. She was the first person to just not assume. Cat laughed and it was a very pleasant sound.

We spent all lunch just talking, and for once I didn't mind it. I usually HATE talking with other people, but seeing as Cat wanted to talk to ME, I went along with it. The bell for fourth block rang. I got up and started to head that way. "Lilly! Wait up," Cat yelled as she fought the swarm of kids to get next to me. "Yeah?" She smiled at me, "I think I have the same class as you do!" I chuckled a little. She reminded me of a sweet little puppy. "Come on," I said smiling at her.

When we walked into class, everyone just stared at us. "Um Ms. Jamie, this is Catherin. She is new here." Ms. Smith was my favorite teacher. She encouraged my writing, and was nice to me. She smiled, "Nice to meet you. She can have the seat next to yours." Maybe this day would finish off ok...

We sat down and I took out my paper I had been writing and gave it to the person in front of me, well more like two desks ahead. We were told to read some short story and to analyze it. The story was of a girl that lived in a tall building and threw her self off of it to see how the people below her lived. It was a metaphor showing how time is wasted and how a person could want the time they wasted but never have it returned. We were busy reading and writing when Ms. Smith stood up at her desk with a smile on her face, "Ok everyone stop for a moment. I want to read you this paper that someone wrote." MY stomach dropped basically out of my ass and spilled on the floor. Plead dear what higher power is up there, don't let it be mine! "This student did a very swell job with the topic," She began and started to read to paper, " 'I am bent, not broken...' " As soon as I heard the first few words, I knew it was mine. Ms. Smith said she would NEVER read my writing out loud!!!! I tried to keep my breathing calm, as to not alert any one that the paper was mine. " 'I have been thru hell, unlike most people. Everyone seems to find a reason to smile, as if it was the simplest thing, but for me it seems to get harder and harder. I am talked about as if I am some oddity, like if people don't talk about I would disappear. I used to have thin skin, and took every word said about me to heart, but now I, now I simply don't give a fuck. When people talk about me, I see it as helping them. I mean if someone is soo low they don't feel important and need to talk about other people, then I am glad I helped them feel better. Words cut a person deep, and leave scars, mentally and physically....' " The class was quiet. The topic was about bullying, and how it affected society. I took the topic to heart, seeing it as a way to vent my ideas and feelings and not get shot down for them. Ms. Smith smiled at me, "To the writer of this paper, you did a very well job and am glad to have you in me class." I let out a bent up breath. I knew if she would have read more, that the part about my family dying would give it away that it was mine. Cat raised her hand, " Who's paper was that?" Everyone looked at her, then at me. I sat there as if I didn't feel their glares trying to strangle me. I felt bad for Cat, she didn't really know what she go herself into, and I was kinda glad too. I know that sounds mean but it's true. "Well Catherin-" "Cat," She spat out. "Ok, Cat, I don't give out names of my writers and normally I don't read their papers but this," she paused and looked down at the paper and smiled, "this one touched my heart." I felt a little joy in knowing I made someone happy without having to hurt myself.

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