HELL HATH NO FURY

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Practising the Art of Murder

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“OOOMPH.” I groaned as the massive roll of pink duct tape (seriously who the hell has bright fluoro pink duct tape. Ew.) came into collision with my head.

“Woops. Sorry, loser.”

Pfft. As if she meant it. Urgh, fat, ugly cow.

You might think that that would have been a terrible thing to say about someone, but trust me; she had it coming.

Meet the Queen Bitch. Paula Miles.

Let me give you an overview of Paula, shall I?

Coming from a half Latino and half Australian background, Paula was gorgeous. Alike most queen B’s, she has the w hole perfect hair, perfect body, perfect exotic look totally going for her. Her hair came down to her lower back and her big brown eyes were always glowing. Her only flaw was her lips. They were much to thin and she couldn’t even give a nice smile with them (I blame the constant scowl that’s on her face).

I would also like to add, that she was a bitch to the max. She was blonde, and the most idiotic person on the world; sometimes I wonder how she could even live without a heart and a brain. She was a major player; using the world slut would be an understatement. She ruled the school and she was the perfect little teachers pet because of her wealth and popularity; her parents are famous stars. Oh and I forget, big boobs and big ass. Need I say more?

BUT, As MUCH as I would have loved that to be true; the bits about her being a complete idiot, it was all lies.

In fact she was one of the smartest kids in the school. Acing nearly every one of her touch classes and even taking advanced maths, I found it hard to believe that no one called her a geek. She wasn’t blonde. She didn’t have overly huge boobs or bootie for that matter. Everything about her seemed perfect. She could do anything.

“No problem,” I said smiling. Grabbing the tape from the ground, I reached out to give it to her; much to her surprise.

Ha! She really thinks I’d just give it to her!

Quickly retracting my arm, I chucked the unbelievably heavy mass at her forehead. Not having enough time to react, the tape just slid past her fingers and hit her on the side of her forehead.

Bullseye.

I snickered evilly as she stumbled far backwards, and had to have her clones support her up.

Snot face. She’s just lucky I’m in a good mood this morning, or I would have done something worse. Like snip her poly tail off, or replace her hairspray with fixative (oh her hair would be ruined for weeks

Note to self for future pranks: fixative in hair.

Rubbing the side of my head that got hit, I knelt down to pick up all my sheets that I dropped when that stupid excuse for a taping mechanism came into contact with my friggin’ head. Yes. I am still pissed off.But at least now I might have given her a mild concussion.

“Here, let me help.” I heard a male voice come from behind me.

“No no, I'm fine really.” But unfortunately my assignment wasn’t; the cover of the CD split in two and the sheets spread all over.

“But I don’t think these are,” he said with a soft laugh, reading my mind, as he bent down and collected the scattered documents.

“Yeah…” I mumbled, rushing so that I could just get out of the scene I had created; mostly because one of the most popular guys in the school had stopped to help the art freak. Oh yeah. Those people were definitely staring by now.

“I saw what happened, are you ok?” I finally looked up into those clear grey concerned eyes.

Why should you care?

“Pffffft,” I let a very un-lady like snort, “I think you should be as Paula that. And ‘course I am. I can handle my own, thankyouverymuch.” I slightly snapped. Okay not the best idea to do. But luckily the humour in his eyes showed that he wasn’t offended.

“I know you can. And I kind of admire you for it…” He added the last bit so quietly that I thought I made it up.

Nope. I’m almost certain I heard it.

“Wh-” I was about to find out exactly what he meant but before I could, his friends came strolling up to him, acting as if I were invisible and cutting me off.

Taking no offence to this since it was just like the usual day-to-day occurrence, I grabbed all of my things. Meeting Sean’s eyes barely as I stood up I saw him apologetically smile faintly at me, while his friends crowded around him.

Ladies and gentlemen. Sean Knight.

Yet another character in the tragic movie of my life.

He was basically the other half of Paula.

Smart. Gorgeous. Popular beyond belief. Sought out by every member of the opposite sex. Even had the perfect body. But unlike Queen Bitch, he did have a heart.

Even though he could be extremely cocky, he had his incredibly caring moments. Sometimes.

No wonder why he gets at least 2 stalkers a month. No joke.

His jet black hair was shaggy and covered a bit of his clear grey eyes. He was flawless, for lack of a better word.

We weren’t friends, but we got along now and then. Nodding in his direction to show that I understood, I walked off towards my art class.

Finally. Some thinking time.

Half an hour later found me painting on my almost complete canvas with a massive splodge of paint on my temple which I hadn’t yet realised. Art class for me was always the one class where I could just relax, let my mind wander and not worry about anything I didn’t want to. Where I could day dream. Where I could let loose, be myself. Where I could wallow in my thoughts. Where I could-

SPLAT.

Oh. My. Holy. Tea Towels.

“Aaaaaaaaaaaaaah!” I screamed in a crackly tone and turned directly around to see who the culprit for ruining my artwork was.

“What the HELL Sean!” The fact that Sean had been transferred into my art class this lesson didn’t cross my mind as anger welled up inside me.

Roughly making hand gestures to my now destroyed painting, I felt the blood rush to my head; not in embarrassment, but in total fury.

Wait. What? Sean? Here?

There we go! Please excuse my brain; it’s a tad slow the morning.

Grinning mischievously at me he winked at went back to his own painting.

“URGH!” I moaned, in a definitely un-lady like way.

Oh he’s going to pay. But first, let’s see how much I can salvage my painting.

Turning back to my ruined painting. (It has spent about 4 lessons painting this master piece too!) There was a large black splat on the left side (which unfortunately the side I has already painted, THANKS SEAN) I tried to wipe if off with some paper towel, but to my incredible luck I just was spreading it further. And to boot, I realised the paint had slid vertically down my painting and had made its home all over my new purple converse.

Holy bananas! He got the converse!

Oh, he’s so going down now.

If there was THE most important rule about me, it would be that ‘You mess with the shoes, I mess with you.” And no, in that way.

In my anger bent attitude, I grabbed my paint brush and started stabbing my painting with the opposite end as if I was trying to murder the piece of canvas.

Hell yes, I’m infuriated. No one ruins my art. Or my shoes. NO one.

Making sure to create a scene, I must have stabbed it over 20 times all over before the teacher finally noticed and confronted me.

“Aviary? Is everything alight?” Mrs Lyle asked timidly.

“Yes ma’am, everything’s just peachy keen! The sky’s blue, the grass is green, and the love is in the air while Beethoven’s symphony plays lightly in the background.” I had my teeth clenched and an evilly sick smile painted my face.

This is my code for “You better run, fool.”

To Sean, that is.

“O-oh, okay….” She said softly and walked off.

I didn’t really want to scare Mrs Lyle; she was such an awesome teacher, but to put it bluntly….

I was pissed out of my mind. And I was out for revenge.

Oh! This would be a perfect opportunity to scare the living daylights out of him before I ensue my torture.

Turning ever so slowly back so that I was facing Sean (who, with amazing time, was already looking in my direction) I locked eyes with him. His wide eyes searched mine as I still held my sickenly sweet smile. I motioned towards the tormented canvas next to me, then pointed to him.

If it were possible, I saw his eyes widen even more.

And for the finally ladies and gentlemen.

I mimed “You’re next,” incredibly slow to him, making sure he got every syllable.

Hearing him audibly gulp, and his Adams Apple bop slowly up then down, I turned around to dispose of my painting and start a new one.

Oh yes, he’s going to get what’s coming to him. And bad.

Like they say, ‘Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned.’

…

Does anyone here agree that school homework should be band? Yeah, me too.

I’m so sorry I haven’t updated my other stories, but I just needed something new to start getting back into writing.

So what do you guys think of this new story?

I have put up a pole on my profile if ya wanna answer ! –hint hint, nudge nudge, wink wink-

Love y’all
x.