Before the story starts, I would like to thank my readers and critics for reading and critiquing my little work. I may not answer back but I thought I should let you know that I've read your feedbacks and that they are greatly appreciated. This story will end probably within the next 2 or 3 chapters. So stay with me for just a little longer and please, don't be afraid to tell me that I'm wrong or that something needs to be improved.

With much gratitude,
winter meadow

ps: I found ilikefineprint's advice helpful and decided to use italics for flashbacks. Thought I should let you know.

pps: I just realized that I'm making jocks and cheerleaders look like idiots. Please, if you ARE a jock or cheerleader, don't be offended. I'm simply portraying the stereotypical jock & cheerleader done thousands of times in the past.

Everything is still. Everything is dead silent. Then she hears a painfully high pitched noise, at first so soft that it is almost inaudible; it gradually grows louder and louder, the sound waves bounce off the nonchalant windows of the buildings. Her finger nails dig into her scalp as she grabs her hair and pulls on it. Suddenly a strong pressure on her temporal lobes, slowly moving above her right eye sockets, attack her head mercilessly. A girl appears before her eyes, petite of stature, wearing a flowing white gown. Her nose is cringed, her eyes vicious, and her teeth clenched together. The irritable yelp becomes more and more clear and she comes to realize that it is she who is screaming in pain – the pain of remembering all that has passed...

13 left.

She can feel them. Pairs and pairs of them, just glaring at her. Do they know too? Does everyone know what an idiot she's been? Has he been telling everyone that she's been depressed simply because he cheated on her and dumped her in front of everyone? She can see from the corner of her eyes a group of girls looking at her, whispering to each other. They giggle. Afraid that she's been watching them for too long, she picks up her things and quickly walks away. She can see the door of the History Hall now. It's mere twelve feet away but the door seems to grow smaller and smaller, moving away from her. She notices his friend, the quarterback who is going out with the head cheerleader. How stereotypical. He gives a little nudge to his buddy leaning against the rusty lockers, busily texting some brainless chick. It could be another jock or him. But probably a cheerleader. After all, the winter formal is coming up; the grand Yacht Dance. He looks up at her and watches her walk by. The quarterback says something to him and they laugh. They must be talking about how desperate and stupid she is. The door opens abruptly and a group of kids rush in, laughing, talking, texting. At first they don't notice her. Then one of them, a preppy girl with a plaited skirt and a sweater-vest, whispers something into some guy next to her. His jaws drop, and he covers his mouth with his soft looking hands. Then they all whisper to each other simultaneously. She tries to avoid direct eye contact with them but she can't. They're still standing in front of the door blocking her way. As she approaches them, she hears one of them say "…and I heard that she's blaming him for…"followed by muffled words. Her face becomes flushed with red and she puts her head down as she walks past them. But those eyes just keep following her. And the whispers seem to grow louder and louder. Finally she opens the door and everyone is looking at her. Her muscles tense up and nobody moves. Why won't they stop? What is so amazingly interesting about her that they all have to stop? She ignores this awkwardness and continues to march down the hall. She passes by the attendance office, where even the office clerk seems to stare at her and whisper something to the counselor standing next to her. A couple of freshmen walk past by her, looking at her, watching her, and whispering something to each other. Another group of kids standing in front of the deep blue lockers talking while watching her move across the hall. Then another group of kids on the opposite side next to the water fountain pointing at her, whispering, giggling. Everyone is whispering something about her to each other.

"Stop."

She stops walking. She can feel her arms shaking, her folders falling out of them.

"I said stop."

The vice principle walking by hears her soft plea and puts his hand on her shoulder.

"Did you say something?"
Silence.
"Are you alright?"
No answer.
"Is something bothering you?"
"Just stop."
"I'm sorry, did you say something?"
"I said just stop. Stop. Stop. Stop. Stop. Stop. STOP!!!"
He takes a step back.
"JUST STOP LOOKING AT ME! STOP LOOKING AT ME LIKE THAT! WHY ARE YOU STARING AT ME?"
She catches the freshmen watching her, frightened.
"WHAT IS SO INTERESTING THAT YOU TWO CAN'T STOP WHISPERING ABOUT ME? WHAT THE FUCK IS SO DAMN INTERESTING!!!!!!!!!"
The vice principle takes out his walkie-talkie and asks for some assistance.
"I ASKED YOU A THE FUCK IS SO DAMN INTERESTING?"
She turns to the group of kids next to the fountain.
"AND YOU! WHAT THE HELL IS SO FUNNY? I SAID WHAT THE FUCK IS SO FUNNY!!!!"

Silence.

Now everyone was really staring at her. But no one dared to whisper to each other. She collapses onto the floor, sobbing. Countless pairs of eyes are still glaring at her as the echoes of her screams fill the hallway. The teachers open their doors to see what's going on.

"Please… Stop looking at me. I know it was stupid, I know. So stop looking at me like that. I can hear all of you whispering all the time, pointing at me, looking at me, laughing at me. Just stop…"

She continues to mumble as the security pulls her off the floor. While she gets escorted out of the hallway, she hears the vice principle asking the freshmen if they'd been talking about her.

"Oh no, not at all. We were just talking about a movie we saw last weekend."
"Yeah, I mean I've never even seen her before"
"So you two weren't even actually staring at her?"
"No! I mean we might have been looking at her direction because we were facing forward but…"

No. They were staring at her and whispering about her. Why would they say that? Why would they make her look psychotic?

"No, that's not true! They were watching me! I saw them watching me and whispering!"

She twists out of the security's arms and lunge at the freshmen. She falls on top of him and she grabs his shirt collar. She starts shaking him back and forth while he tries to resist her. But her anger and insanity cannot be stopped.

"WHY WOULD YOU SAY THAT? WHY WOULD YOU LIE TO ME? WHY!!!! WHY!!!!!!!"

Why?

10 stories left.