A/N: This is a one-shot, unless someone would actually want me to write more on it. Constructive criticism would be very well appreciated, and I'll try to respond to any reviews I may get.

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Judine sat in the back of the classroom, ignoring the woman's words. It would come like a slap to the face, bringing back the urges and memories that haunt her. This woman who threw the insults at Judine wasn't real, she knew this. She was only the pessimism, anger, and depression that the girl would feel. You're nothing. Ugly, fat, worthless white trash. That's all you'll ever be. They'd all be better off if you were dead. She was the reason Judine couldn't let go of that petty teenage angst.

Judine wasn't ugly, she told herself this and even believed it much of the time. Still, she wasn't anything special in any way. Her hair was dark brown, eyes a green-ish color, and skin pale. The girl normally wore blue jeans and a t-shirt, or occasionally something a bit more "elegantly gothic", and her long hair was mostly kept down. She was also shorter than most girls her age and she was chubby.

Judine often fantasized about slicing open her wrists and bleeding her life away, or murdering the whole of her school's student body. How much joy would either give her, if only for a little while. She was a horrible, worthless person. She was disgusting and stupid. When Judine would look into a mirror, unless she was feeling a bit narcissistic (as many girls do), she'd imagine the cliche of breaking the mirror in disgust with what she saw.

"Miss Everson," the teacher repeated, bringing Judine out of her thoughts. She looked around, confusion clearly written on her face.

"You're turn to read. Third paragraph, page 173." He sounded annoyed that she hadn't been paying attention, but said nothing more as the girl did as she was told. Yet again, it was just another day at school. There were only a few hours left that she'd be trapped in the horrid place, at least until the next day.

As 3 o' clock neared, Judine sat in her last class patiently waiting for the last bell to ring. Most people were talking of senseless things, gossip and plans that meant nothing to her. She heard someone laugh at another's stupidity, and felt as if they were talking about her. It was unlikely that they were, but she couldn't help but to feel that way. Judine wanted to cover both her ears with her hands to drown out the chitter-chatter, but only layed her head down and doodled.

Listen to them, they don't deserve to live. Why do you continue to let them go on about their foolishness? Cause them suffering, relish in their agony. You know you want to. Judine continued to doodle, paying no attention to the woman. She knew right from wrong, so she'd never commit a homicide. Even as her anger grew, Judine kept it suppressed from reality.

What are you doing? You pathetic little whore. You can't do anything right. You can't even kill them. Why don't you fucking kill yourself then? She put her hand up to the back of her choker, where a safety pin was used as a clasp. It's what she'd used plenty of times before, but she couldn't now. Judine was surrounded by people, and she had to resist the urge to harm herself again. She'd done so well, she wasn't trying to starve herself and she'd gone a couple of weeks without self-harming. She had to keep going. You know you want to. Don't you remember the pleasure you'd have from your skin tearing open and you're seeing the blood trickle out? Don't you want that? And don't you want to feel your stomach's emptiness again? It'll make you feel better.

The bell finally rang, bringing Judine out of her mind's darkness again. She walked as quickly as she could to the bus and began listening to her mp3 player. The music would keep the woman away from her. It would keep Judine from thinking, from listening, for a while...