Pariah

• Madison Beare, Grade 12
• Short Story
• 2013

I tilt my head towards the left, hoping that the teacher will take this for an action of contemplation rather than one of deceit. She falls for it. Her eyes skim over my face, carefully composed in a mask of thought, despite the many ideas in my head that spin wildly out of control. Questions, seemingly without answers, bounce to and fro within my mind, pounding on my skull and demanding answers that I cannot find. With narrowed eyes I survey the small classroom quickly, assessing everyone and everything that may help me find out who started the rumor that has ruined my life. There. In the furthermost left corner of the room sits Eloise. With her perfectly highlighted blonde hair- which I assure you is not natural- and falsely composed attentive gaze, she represents flawlessly what a model student should look like. Known to spread gossip faster than anyone in the whole school, I am sure that she has somehow carried on the rumor to a group of her equally narcissistic friends. I hate her. I hate them all. What right to they have to spread lies about people? To ruin them. Bully them.
I watch with contempt as she shoots her hand into the air, and delicately waves it about in an attempt to draw the teachers attention towards her. Typical. She beams as he calls on her and relays a perfect, textbook answer, basking in the glow of his approval and false astonishment that she has correctly answered.
She turn her head slightly towards the back of the classroom, looking to see who has been watching her- no doubt expecting recognition and congratulations on answering a question everyone else was too lazy to. Her gaze captures mine and a glint of malicious knowing passes through her eyes. The corners of her mouth tilt upwards in a small smirk, taking pleasure in the fact that she has ruined my life. Possibly forever.
Anger rushes through my body and my eyes fill with furious tears and the unfairness of this situation. The fact that she is deemed innocent. Every. Damn. Time.
I can’t take any more of this treatment. Why must the bully always win? How?
At the front of the classroom her friend shakes with silent laughter, casting furtive looks in my direction when she thinks I am not looking. They can discuss my life all they want. I will not grant them the satisfaction and power they gain by bulling me. I refuse to sit quietly by, attempting to ignore them as their malevolent ways destroy my life.
My chair scrapes and squeaks in protest as I jolt to my feet and walk steadily up the isle towards Eloise. Every single person’s eyes linger on my form as I move with resolve in the direction of gaining sweet, sweet revenge.
The look on her face as my fist smashes into her nose is one I will treasure for the rest of my life. The way the smug superiority faded quickly into astonishment and fear when she realized her nose would not be perfect for much longer. But a split second of bliss is all the time I was allowed before the yelling started. The gasps. The stares. The looks of hatred from her friends and alarm from mine. I could hear them thinking that maybe I had taken it too far. And as I looked down at Eloise’s face which was coated in both tears and blood, I realized that I had. Eloise hadn't ruined my life. By revolting with violence, I had just ruined it myself. People feared me. Wouldn't get close to me. I was now a pariah.