~~~SHILOH~~~
~~Prologue~~
~Written by Monarch Girl~
My name is Shiloh Harmin. I'm a sixteen-year-old growing up in Eastern Pennsylvania. It's a pretty nice place, actually, so long as you put aside the face that the summer is so hot that you feel like you're going to melt into a blob of bubbling flesh on the ground, and that during the winter your body's temperature is about equal to that of an ice cube's.
But besides that, my school is quite good, so long as you discount the often-psychotic teachers there. I mean, try this for starters: when I was still in middle school, the principal there was a complete heathen! If you ever saw a picture of her, you would say, "Michael Jackson?! Head of a school?! I don't trust this.... Wait a second! Michael Jackson does NOT have breasts!" It's true. She's a complete replica of him. So it's no surprise why my friends and I used to laugh idiotically down the hall, speaking of "The Ugly Person," which, believe me, if you ever saw her, you would realize why we titled her with such a phrase.
One of my good friends (if not a little nutty)-Daphne Holland-would always laugh hysterically as she spoke, with uncanny accuracy, of our principal's appearance:
"She has such a leering, waxy face! Her eyes are so green, its like she's possessed by a demon! Her skin isn't even colored normally! I think she bleaches her face, which can also account for her excessive brain damage."
I would follow suit, saying something along the lines of: "I know what you mean! I think she's the ugliest, laziest, slimiest human on earth!" It was true too...if ever there was a truly lazy and sleazy person, it was her, which was really funny since the school was built on the principle of work-until-your-ass-falls-off.
Then, Ashley would finish off the free-for-all insult attack on our unworthy principal with a comment that put both mine and Daphne's to shame. "Oh, Shy (which had been my nickname since fourth grade). She's no human! She's a vulture! A despicable predator, feeding off of the carcasses of her own students and staff. It's from their pain and suffering that she gets her pleasure and is able to keep herself stable! Haven't you seen the way The Ugly Person scavengers through the groups of students, looking desperately to spot just one person who was doing something wrong, if ever- so-slightly. Just one-tenth of an inch of bra strap showing, or one- twentieth of the midriff skin showing, and she will be off running towards that unfortunate teen, crowing with delight, having spotted her meal for the day! Oh, she would pick them all to the bones if she could!" Wow! Way to go, Ashley! She really did have such a way with words when it came to the horrid woman, if you could even call her that. But Ashley wouldn't stop there, she would continue on, often with interesting things to say. "I guess she's jealous or something...you know, all these kids having young, shapely bodies-us including!-with full, successful sex lives ahead of them! And her...well...need I say more?" Ashley definitely didn't need to say more. In fact, we could have left well enough alone there, and moved onto something like Hottie for the Week, or the Retard of the Day (which, I might add, are customs still going on strong between Daphne and me). But, nope. Abbie, feeling a bit of an outcast, would open her mouth and saying something a bit startling, like:
"Yeah! I know what you mean! But she probably does think she's a sex- cat still. You know, she's gotta be one of those middle aged, sagging women who wear tight thongs, skanky bras, wand beg for the privilege to lay their husbands hard and heavy! Can't you picture it? I can!" Uhhhh.... To this day, I REALLY don't get how that girl's head works. And, the more I think about it, the more I definitely DON'T want to know how it works!
But all this with The Ugly Person was 3 years ago, when I was in eighth grade. I've changed a lot since then! Let's see....
My hair? Well...no...I still have annoying, often frizzy, and wavy brown hair. My eyes...no, those are still this weird green-blue color. My height? As much as I'd like to say I gained five inches...I can't. I'm still the short, 5'2" girl I was in eighth grade. Though I do reach at least 5'5" when I put on one of my nice high-heeled boots, or platform sneakers, of which I own at least five pairs of. What can I say. I'm desperate.
Somehow, I feel as though I trailed off. What was I talking about? Oh right...lunatic teachers! Sorry, short attention span. It's not uncommon for me to do this sort of stuff. And I'm supposed to be getting license in less than 2 months! Hah! No wonder why my friends are terrified....
Well, last year I had a pretty interesting teacher too. He taught Geometry. I forgot what his name was, but I do remember his hairdo! I know, I know, it's a pretty weird thing to remember, but his hair...his hair...OMG, I feel like laughing just picturing it! Anyways, it was long-i mean, it went down to his elbows! And it was blonde too! Of all the weird colors! Picture this hair on a fifty-year old, lanky male? Can you do it? It was mad hilarious! His name is long forgotten, but I do remember his nickname. It was Hippie Liver, or HL for short. My "gang" got Hippie because that's what he looked like, and Liver? Well, we wanted a world beginning with "L" to make it so the anachronym of his name would match the triangle theorem of Hypotenuse-Leg, and I guess the day that this was created, we had a dry spell in the way of creativity. So Hippie Liver it came to be.
I know what you're probably thinking by now. That I'm a complete weirdo, am I right? That's OK, though, I'm used to it. My parents insinuate that I have problems everyday. And everyday I have to remind them that I'm an honors-student. Hard to picture, right? With my naughty-minded friends, odd nicknames, and slang talk...it's hard to imagine me being one of those over-achieving, annoying, smart, and perfect prodigies, isn't that right? It is...and it could probably be because I'm not, really. Sometimes I wish Sigmund Freud was still around. That man would have a hell of a time analyzing my life and psychology! I live one of the weirdest, multifaceted lives around! I'm not quite sure that even makes sense! Believe me, you are warned: to read this is to embark on a bumpy mission, full of surprises and oddities endemic to my life! In fact, to any life as a teenager really. If only those overbearing prudes who call themselves adults knew what it is like to be a teenager in this era! All the talk of sex and porn...the obscene amounts of drugs and alcohol and making out at every party...all the HOT shirtless guys you can see...all the...wait a sec here! Weren't the parents today the ones who wouldn't shut up about making love and not war in the 70's? Never mind then....
All I know is, is that that guy who is in my English class is REALLY hot! I mean, the sizzle sizzle kind of hot! And he's trying out for the school play! You can bet your bucks I'm gonna be right there at auditions! With my weird gang behind me. You know what, I think I'm going to stop over at Daphne's house right now to extract some flirting tips from her.
Oh...wait a second...my phone's ringing! Who in the world is calling me? Checking Caller ID.... It's...Ally Wotsil. Great...just what I need right now. She's the biggest brown-noser ever. She's a complete teacher's pet and one of the most annoying people you could possibly ever meet! All the teacher's think she's the smartest individual ever to walk on Earth, but whatever intelligence she has is completely simulated by her disgustingly sweet compliments she always pays to the teachers. She might as well just kiss their feet! And it's all because of her that a group of at least twenty kids think I'm a murderer! Seriously! She is downright jealous of me (probably because she knows I'm smarter than her, since she's just a suck-up ditz), so she created this far-fetched rumor that I planned this whole thing to kill her. And people believed it too, and think I'm a psychotic freak in the highest degree! Forget about my mental health, they should seriously check up on Ally's. God only knows why she's calling me now. Oh well. It doesn't really matter. I just disconnected the phone. Too bad.
I grabbed my thick winter jacket, my gloves, my hat, my scarf, and headed out into the bleak, frigid air towards Daphne's house. Ahh...the nice eight-degree temperatures I love in PA! Forget about blush, the wind alone makes your cheeks a nice, rosy red.
Signing out for now...
~Shiloh~
|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\ |\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\
What's coming up next in Shiloh: PLAY problems. Shiloh has some interesting experiences backstage that center around Andrew, a.k.a. hot guy from English class.
A/N: No, I'm not Shiloh. She's strictly fictional. Review please!
~~Prologue~~
~Written by Monarch Girl~
My name is Shiloh Harmin. I'm a sixteen-year-old growing up in Eastern Pennsylvania. It's a pretty nice place, actually, so long as you put aside the face that the summer is so hot that you feel like you're going to melt into a blob of bubbling flesh on the ground, and that during the winter your body's temperature is about equal to that of an ice cube's.
But besides that, my school is quite good, so long as you discount the often-psychotic teachers there. I mean, try this for starters: when I was still in middle school, the principal there was a complete heathen! If you ever saw a picture of her, you would say, "Michael Jackson?! Head of a school?! I don't trust this.... Wait a second! Michael Jackson does NOT have breasts!" It's true. She's a complete replica of him. So it's no surprise why my friends and I used to laugh idiotically down the hall, speaking of "The Ugly Person," which, believe me, if you ever saw her, you would realize why we titled her with such a phrase.
One of my good friends (if not a little nutty)-Daphne Holland-would always laugh hysterically as she spoke, with uncanny accuracy, of our principal's appearance:
"She has such a leering, waxy face! Her eyes are so green, its like she's possessed by a demon! Her skin isn't even colored normally! I think she bleaches her face, which can also account for her excessive brain damage."
I would follow suit, saying something along the lines of: "I know what you mean! I think she's the ugliest, laziest, slimiest human on earth!" It was true too...if ever there was a truly lazy and sleazy person, it was her, which was really funny since the school was built on the principle of work-until-your-ass-falls-off.
Then, Ashley would finish off the free-for-all insult attack on our unworthy principal with a comment that put both mine and Daphne's to shame. "Oh, Shy (which had been my nickname since fourth grade). She's no human! She's a vulture! A despicable predator, feeding off of the carcasses of her own students and staff. It's from their pain and suffering that she gets her pleasure and is able to keep herself stable! Haven't you seen the way The Ugly Person scavengers through the groups of students, looking desperately to spot just one person who was doing something wrong, if ever- so-slightly. Just one-tenth of an inch of bra strap showing, or one- twentieth of the midriff skin showing, and she will be off running towards that unfortunate teen, crowing with delight, having spotted her meal for the day! Oh, she would pick them all to the bones if she could!" Wow! Way to go, Ashley! She really did have such a way with words when it came to the horrid woman, if you could even call her that. But Ashley wouldn't stop there, she would continue on, often with interesting things to say. "I guess she's jealous or something...you know, all these kids having young, shapely bodies-us including!-with full, successful sex lives ahead of them! And her...well...need I say more?" Ashley definitely didn't need to say more. In fact, we could have left well enough alone there, and moved onto something like Hottie for the Week, or the Retard of the Day (which, I might add, are customs still going on strong between Daphne and me). But, nope. Abbie, feeling a bit of an outcast, would open her mouth and saying something a bit startling, like:
"Yeah! I know what you mean! But she probably does think she's a sex- cat still. You know, she's gotta be one of those middle aged, sagging women who wear tight thongs, skanky bras, wand beg for the privilege to lay their husbands hard and heavy! Can't you picture it? I can!" Uhhhh.... To this day, I REALLY don't get how that girl's head works. And, the more I think about it, the more I definitely DON'T want to know how it works!
But all this with The Ugly Person was 3 years ago, when I was in eighth grade. I've changed a lot since then! Let's see....
My hair? Well...no...I still have annoying, often frizzy, and wavy brown hair. My eyes...no, those are still this weird green-blue color. My height? As much as I'd like to say I gained five inches...I can't. I'm still the short, 5'2" girl I was in eighth grade. Though I do reach at least 5'5" when I put on one of my nice high-heeled boots, or platform sneakers, of which I own at least five pairs of. What can I say. I'm desperate.
Somehow, I feel as though I trailed off. What was I talking about? Oh right...lunatic teachers! Sorry, short attention span. It's not uncommon for me to do this sort of stuff. And I'm supposed to be getting license in less than 2 months! Hah! No wonder why my friends are terrified....
Well, last year I had a pretty interesting teacher too. He taught Geometry. I forgot what his name was, but I do remember his hairdo! I know, I know, it's a pretty weird thing to remember, but his hair...his hair...OMG, I feel like laughing just picturing it! Anyways, it was long-i mean, it went down to his elbows! And it was blonde too! Of all the weird colors! Picture this hair on a fifty-year old, lanky male? Can you do it? It was mad hilarious! His name is long forgotten, but I do remember his nickname. It was Hippie Liver, or HL for short. My "gang" got Hippie because that's what he looked like, and Liver? Well, we wanted a world beginning with "L" to make it so the anachronym of his name would match the triangle theorem of Hypotenuse-Leg, and I guess the day that this was created, we had a dry spell in the way of creativity. So Hippie Liver it came to be.
I know what you're probably thinking by now. That I'm a complete weirdo, am I right? That's OK, though, I'm used to it. My parents insinuate that I have problems everyday. And everyday I have to remind them that I'm an honors-student. Hard to picture, right? With my naughty-minded friends, odd nicknames, and slang talk...it's hard to imagine me being one of those over-achieving, annoying, smart, and perfect prodigies, isn't that right? It is...and it could probably be because I'm not, really. Sometimes I wish Sigmund Freud was still around. That man would have a hell of a time analyzing my life and psychology! I live one of the weirdest, multifaceted lives around! I'm not quite sure that even makes sense! Believe me, you are warned: to read this is to embark on a bumpy mission, full of surprises and oddities endemic to my life! In fact, to any life as a teenager really. If only those overbearing prudes who call themselves adults knew what it is like to be a teenager in this era! All the talk of sex and porn...the obscene amounts of drugs and alcohol and making out at every party...all the HOT shirtless guys you can see...all the...wait a sec here! Weren't the parents today the ones who wouldn't shut up about making love and not war in the 70's? Never mind then....
All I know is, is that that guy who is in my English class is REALLY hot! I mean, the sizzle sizzle kind of hot! And he's trying out for the school play! You can bet your bucks I'm gonna be right there at auditions! With my weird gang behind me. You know what, I think I'm going to stop over at Daphne's house right now to extract some flirting tips from her.
Oh...wait a second...my phone's ringing! Who in the world is calling me? Checking Caller ID.... It's...Ally Wotsil. Great...just what I need right now. She's the biggest brown-noser ever. She's a complete teacher's pet and one of the most annoying people you could possibly ever meet! All the teacher's think she's the smartest individual ever to walk on Earth, but whatever intelligence she has is completely simulated by her disgustingly sweet compliments she always pays to the teachers. She might as well just kiss their feet! And it's all because of her that a group of at least twenty kids think I'm a murderer! Seriously! She is downright jealous of me (probably because she knows I'm smarter than her, since she's just a suck-up ditz), so she created this far-fetched rumor that I planned this whole thing to kill her. And people believed it too, and think I'm a psychotic freak in the highest degree! Forget about my mental health, they should seriously check up on Ally's. God only knows why she's calling me now. Oh well. It doesn't really matter. I just disconnected the phone. Too bad.
I grabbed my thick winter jacket, my gloves, my hat, my scarf, and headed out into the bleak, frigid air towards Daphne's house. Ahh...the nice eight-degree temperatures I love in PA! Forget about blush, the wind alone makes your cheeks a nice, rosy red.
Signing out for now...
~Shiloh~
|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\ |\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\
What's coming up next in Shiloh: PLAY problems. Shiloh has some interesting experiences backstage that center around Andrew, a.k.a. hot guy from English class.
A/N: No, I'm not Shiloh. She's strictly fictional. Review please!