Chapter One:I don't know. I just don't know.
Part of me wants to fight, the other just wants peace. And I am not sure which side to go with. I do not nessicarily
want to start a fight, but I do not want to just sit there and be harrased either.
But the urge to fight wants to take over. It wants to dominate the body, the mind, the soul. It wants violence to rip out and attack, to lash the face of the harraser.
I can feel it in my blood; I need to fight. Whether it will be verbally, or physically, or whatever else, I still have to fight. The feeling inside of me will not going away until I fight. I know.
But for now, I push the urge aside. I am in the middle of a cafateria, surrounded by too many witnesses, and surrounded by the girls who want to cause me trouble. They spit their lies at me, as clear as the day, like snakes spitting venom at their prey. They do not care about what I think, or what I have to say. Their goal is to make me mad.
Well, that goal will not be achieved today.
I continue to eat my food, ignoring them as they go on and on, blaming their problems on me. Blaming the fact, the fact of something that
never happened, on me. They say that I told a girl that the girl who is currently harrasing me told me that two certain people were together. As in, going out. Love makes me sick sometimes.
Most of the time.
But it is pointless and confusing, I know.
Then she, the main girl, the leader of the group, the one who does all the harrasing (we shall call her Harrasing-Girl), says that everyone she asks says that I told them about it. Yep, let me tell you. I did it. I somehow managed to tell the whole school in less than a day some stupid rumor about two people going out.
Yes, it was I. Arrest me. Sue me. Tell my mother. Do what you wish.
But, whatever you do, it will not change the fact that it was not me. I have proof. Ask my best friend, who I am
always hanging out with. She would know if I were spreading a rumor.
Oh, speaking of that best friend, here she comes now. Best friend to the rescue.
She tells the girl to leave, to stop harrasing me pointlessly. As Harrasing-Girl leaves, she throws a string of curse words aimed towards that good ol' best friend of mine. She ignores it, and we go on, talking like nothing had ever happened in the first place. Good ol' best friend.
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Subject: My (Kinda Serious) Random Story 
Sun Dec 07, 2008 12:27 pm
^^'
