Make Over

Pip Pirrip stood next to Stark's Pond, watching as the moonlight glinted off the frozen surface.

'It's beautiful', he thought to himself.

Pip was wringing his hands together as he shivered in the cold of the midwinter night. He left his house in such a hurry he forgot to grab his coat or shoes. So he stood there in his shorts and t-shirt, snow numbing his feet with its coldness. His left cheek, still stinging from the earlier slap he suffered, stung even worse as the cold bit at him. He'd eventually have to go home. Jut not now. Just a little longer and he will. Pip's lower lip trembled slightly, but not a single tear slid down his face. He really wanted to just lay down and sob. But he couldn't because then they would have won and he couldn't have that. He couldn't let them know he was hurting. They wouldn't care anyways. No one cares about him.

He was just Pip.

Everyone hated him. Everyone bullied him. No one like him, no one loved him. Not even his foster parents. His stinging cheek was a reminder of that. He wished his parents were with him, but alas. His mother had died giving birth to him and his father from a illness not long after. Oh, how he wanted to know them.

Pip was shaking by this point, the cold slowly overpowering his still figure as he stood there. It creeped up from his feet to his legs to his torso and arms and finally down to his fingertips. The blonde didn't care at that moment. Not one bit. But he had to get home or else he'd be in bigger trouble. The young boy sighed as he slowly turned around and started walking, wincing at the numbness of his feet.

The wind picked up and Pip shook as he walked. The night would've been beautiful had he not been freezing and numb. He eventually took a shortcut behind the school as he trudged home through the icy cold snow.

"Hey!"

Pip almost fell as he heard that shout, thinking it was more bullies out late or even the Middle or North Park students that enjoyed tormenting him. But as he turned around, he let out a sigh of relief. It was none of the above.

It was just the Goth Kids.

Pip watched as they slowly approached him. He didn't have anything against the Goth Kids and they've never bothered him, so things should be good between them. Right?

The girl stepped forward.

"What happened to your face?" She asked curiously and gently gripped his jaw, turning his face to the side for a closer look.. Pip inwardly curse, a bruise must be forming already.

She gingerly touched her other hand to his cheek, causing him to wince slightly.

"Oh, nothing. I just fell is all." Pip put on the most convincing smile he could muster. None of them looked convinced and Henrietta let his jaw go.

The one with black and red hair spoke up. Pete, if he remembered correctly.

"We see how all the conformists treat you. It's not right."

Michael, the tall goth, stepped in.

"We've been meaning to ask you something." Pip just watched them as the youngest, Firkle, began to talk as well.

"Would you like to turn away from conformists and become one of us?" Pip was frozen in shock and his lips moved without him knowing it.

"Why, of course."

No sooner had the words left his mouth that he was being dragged by a shockingly excited Henrietta towards an all black hearse. They were followed closely by Pete, Michael, and Firkle. Michael got in the drivers' side with Firkle in the passenger. Pete opened the door in the back where a coffin would've been put in and Henrietta climbed in first, followed by Pip then Pete. They had installed two rows of black leather seats on either side of the back, facing each other. Pip sat on one side awkwardly as Pete and Henrietta sat on the other side. The hearse barely made any noise as Michael started it and began driving. Pip sat there quietly as Pete and Henrietta stared at him curiously.

"Your feet are bleeding." Pete cocked his head to the side as his stare intensified. Pip looked down and indeed Pete was right, his feet were cracked and bleeding. Oh Crumpets! Pip smiled slightly and shook his head.

"Oh, don't worry." He twiddled his thumbs as he sat there. They stared at him with calculating gazes that made Pip nervous. Would they take their invitation back, leaving Pip all alone again? Oh, he hoped not! The hearse stopped.

"We're here." Pip jumped slightly at the sound of Michael's monotone voice. He followed the others out of the hearse and into a dark green house. The interior was brightly lit and there was a wall full of pictures of a young girl and boy as they grow up. Pip theorized that this must be Henrietta's home. They went upstairs and walked down the hall before coming to an all black door with the words 'Keep Out' spray painted in red.

Pip followed them in without hesitation.

Henrietta's room was painted black with Gothic posters and decorations spread out. They were tons of candles lit and Pip vaguely wondered if Henrietta's parents worried that she would burn the house down. He looked to where Henrietta was standing by the chair she pulled from her vanity.

"Sit." It was a simple command made by the goth girl but held no room for argument.

Pip sat in the chair. Pete and Firkle disappeared out the door and Henrietta began going to town. She removed Pip's signature hat from his head and set it on the vanity. Pip's eyes locked on the hat and he suddenly felt nervous.

The door opened quietly and Pete and Firkle came back. Firkle, standing on his tip toes, pressed a a rag willed with ice and tied off to his slightly swelling cheek. Pete took a small box from Michael and knelt on the floor. Pip couldn't help but look down as the red-on-black haired boy began to treat and wrap his still bleeding feet. He was being so gently about it too and seemed to know exactly what he was doing.

A hiss left Pip's throat and Pete sent him a surprisingly apologetic look.

"I think I have some hair dye around hear somewhere..."

What did Pip get himself into?