Do I even have to remind anyone that it is like almost that dreadful time of year again? If I still going to my old school, which thankfully I'm not, then I'd be heading back on Monday (or maybe Tuesday?). I'd be thinking about what a shitty year I was about to have, and betting how many days it would take for the priniciple, Mrs.____, to make me use disinfectant wipe to take off the makeup I''m not wearing, burn my retinas, and get yelled at for not wearing anything. Still, I wouldn't be nervous because it's the same old Catholic school I'd been going to since preschool; where my grandpa was the crossing guard, my grandma the librarian, my science teacher that us we looked lovely today, my English teacher with the rug and couch in her room, and my homeroom teacher that constantly told us she wouldn't have stayed if it weren't for us. How touching.
Am I sad that I'm not going back? I'll miss my friends, my middle school teachers, seeing my grandparents everyday, and getting up at eight. But I had such a terrible time at that school, and it's all your fault, prinicible. I would say your full name, you don't live in my town, but you do live close by. And I'm not that mean. I'd like to tell you, you're such a bitch. You targeted Jordan and I, and made us use those wipes that really hurt, to wipe off makeup we weren't wearing. Did it ever occur to you that Jordan's eyelashes were so close together and dark, it always looks like she has eyeliner on? Or that my eyelashes are just thick and black? Sorry, that we just look good naturally. And you couldn't even catch us when we had it on. I know you targeted us. Tara would have on teal eyeliner, but she never scrubbed her face. Katrina wore eyeliner and mascara everyday. Little precious, Sammie, who never did anything wrong, wore eyeliner by the gallon. But none of them ever got yelled at. None of them were ever accused of anything. I hope, that if I ever do anything worthwhile in my life (which you have already told me I won't), that I get to make a speech and call you out. In fact, I hope you somehow stumble upon this. I hate you that much. You did much more to us than the makeup stuff, but I'll keep my mouth shut about the other things for now. I can't wait to visit this year and look like a whore.
Anyhow, I'm stuck at this public high school, which I'm already sure is better than Catholic. It's an interesting story how I wound up here, but that's for another time too. My teachers sound too eager, and I refuse to go to a poetry slam. I'm not looking forward to getting up at 6:30, and going to school. I'm not looking forward to being in school 4, with all the smart people. I could just really want one class with someone I know and I like. And altogether I don't want to go to high school, because knowing me, I'll just end up alone. It's still better than the old school.
And I'm so good at pretending that I'm just my happy, funny normal self, that everyone believes me. Maybe that's a good thing, 'cause that's what I'm aiming for. Then again, it would be nice for someone to see through this bullshit. Or not. I don't know anymore. Maybe I should actually take my bipolar pills, instead of flushing them down the toilet. Eh, who knows, I have to go consider reading Cut, but ultimately fail and then go to the movies with my friends.
You know you love me,
Bianca
*huggles Bianca*
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