"Dipper! You came back!" I cheered, running over to our small group. Recognizing his presence, my mood just kinda lightened up a bit, my heartbeat picking up a step. This night has just been really great, and this dorks surprisingly not too bad. Still a dork, but not too bad.
He actually wasn't gone for very long. Maybe he changed his mind and decided to exorcise the ghost a bit later. Well, whatever's going on, I'm happy he's back.
Dipper however didn't seem to share my mood. Looking over with enraged brown eyes, he pointed at me accusingly.
"You lied to me!" he shouted, my smile and mood dropping instantly. What?
"All of you did! All you had to do was let the townsfolk into the party and you could've broken the curse! But you made me do your dirty work instead!" he spouted. I looked down nervously.
That's right. The lie. I tricked him into getting rid of the ghost so that we wouldn't have to deal with him ourselves. I,...honestly kinda forgot about it. Wait, just when did that happen? When was it when I forgot that I was supposed to be playing Dipper for a fool? Was it when we were being chased by the ghost? When he trapped it in the mirror? Was it when I hugged him? I don't know.
I watched as my Father blatantly insulted Dipper mid-explanation. "My Kind!?" Dipper gasped in offense before looking to me. "I was right about you all along. Your just as bad as your parents" he said, a frown present on my face.
"Another link in the world's worst chain" he coldly labeled me.
I felt my heart shatter in that very moment. No. This can't be happening! Not after what had just happened! All these upset emotions were just bubbling over in me. Like a pot of boiling water about to spill. Unable to contain it all, I shot back at Dipper. I really don't want to lose him.
"I'm sorry! They made me!" I pointed at my parents. It was the truth! It was my Father's idea to do this afterall. I'm not the mastermind in this operation. I never was. "I should've told you, but-" my Father's hand shot out, ringing that bell.
My heart stopped. It was beating, and then it stopped for a moment. Reflexively, I shut my trap and retract my defensive position to one of submission. I blushed in embarrassment. Sorry you have to see me like this!
I looked down in shame as the conversation carried on. I looked down in shame as Dipper stomped away. I looked down in shame as he was denied service. I looked down in shame until her was gone.
"Well, i'm glad that was taken care of" Father said in satisfaction, still standing tall and proud. I could feel someone's gaze glance down at me.
"Pacifica, sweetie, why don't you and I go and enjoy the party" my Mother suggested.
Party? I just lost a good friend thanks to you guys, and you want me to party? My jaw quivering, it took all of my willpower to keep incoming tears from spilling over. I looked up at her, a broken look on my face. I opened up my mouth to try to say something back at my parents, but nothing came. Any voice there was was trapped in my throat. So instead, I just turned away.
At first I was merely walking away from the scene, though that soon turned to a mad dash. The only trace I left behind were the echoing clicks of my heeled shoes. With each step I took, it felt like I was going to burst. No. Just a little longer. I can't cry just yet. Seeing the torn painting Dipper and I broke through earlier, I decide to hide there. Away from my parents. Away from the public. Away from the world.
Upon hopping in, that's when I finally blew. I cried and wailed my shattered heart out. This might make a good hiding place in the future. Removing my gloves, I cupped my face as black tears rained down. I'll redo the makeup later. All that mattered now was that I lost him. I had him, and I lost him.
And everything was going just perfectly too. If only he didn't find out, everything would've been just fine. Everything would've been just fine. The ghost would've been exorcised, and Dipper and I would enjoy the party together.
"*hic*stupid ghost...*sniff*...stupid parents" I choked out inbetween sobs. It's not my fault. I was just another pawn in a chess game. I didn't plan this. I didn't mean for this. I didn't mean for any of this! It's not my fault this happened! It's not my fault!
Aimlessly wandering around a dark room, I eventually feel something tap against my foot. Clearing my blurred vision, my eyes adjusted to the dark. I make out the shape of a flashlight. Might be a good idea. Picking up the object, I flicked the switch in a faint hope of this thing still working. Success. Looking around, the first thing I find is a portrait of my parents. I only look at them in spite.
Turning around, I find a bit of a surprise. The paintings from the dressing room! What're they- wait, what? Shining the light over the image, my redened eyes grew wide.
These people, they're all Northwests. My ancestors. Ancestors I knew by name. Skimming over these details, I let out a choked gasp. The alterations between the public image and these versions were so dramatic. As my brain registered each and every detail, I nearly went manic at the realization of what is infront of me.
These are records of terrible things my family has done.
No. This can't be. I was always told something different. That the Northwests were heroes in this town. I had so much to be proud of. I don't come from a long line of this! There's just no way!
Turning around, I find myself face to face in a mirror. My blue eyes have been cried red. They were as wide as saucers. Black streaky tears stained my face, purple eyeshadow smudged. Mud scuffed and stained my shoes. Patches of feathers and fluff were missing from the black trimming and collar of my dress. Behind me were the various portraits of these terrible things.
Just another link in the world's worst chain
Dipper's words echoed in my head. "No!" I shouted, clutching my head with my free hand. "I'm not like that!"
Just another link in the world's worst chain
Despite having my eyes wide open, all I could see was not in front of them. Even when I closed them, the images were still there.
I started having these rapid flashbacks. The bullying. The teasing. Those times when I would tear my peers apart mercilessly with knife-like words. The cheating. More than once. Over and over again. I bribed and cheated my way to the top. I never let anyone else even have a chance. The backs I have stabbed. The lies. So many times I lied and tricked others into doing my bidding.
Like tonight.
Trying to shake it all off, I looked into the mirror once more. Even when I see just me, the flashbacks still hadn't ended. "I'm not like that" I lied to myself, remembering her.
The lowly weirdo girl. Mabel. I said allot of mean things to her, didn't I?
"That sounds like a fat old lady's name"
"Are you always this silly!?"
"You look and act ridiculous!"
"Oh, I didn't know it was 'hobos golf free' day!"
"Enjoy second place"
"Aww, it thinks it's gonna win"
I went out of my way to make her miserable. To make sure that whenever Mabel tried to make a name for herself, I would take those would-be 15 minutes of fame away from her. Even if it meant cheating and bribing. I remember bribing that McHobo to get myself a plastic crown. And then personally setting up a blind date between Toby and Shandra to get Mabel off the papers. For what? Victory? I always had to win at everything.
Snapping my head back up, I glanced at the paintings once more, and then back at myself. In a near whisper voice, an old phrase slipped through my lips: "History is written by the winners."
I guess the Northwests won allot.
Just another link in the world's worst chain
The phrase repeated in my mind once more as I looked in the mirror. This time though, I didn't deny it. As the quote plagued my mind, I finally sunk to my knees.
It's no wonder why Dipper hates me so much. I really am the worst. I'm a terrible person. I don't even deserve to have someone special like him in my life. Shifting to a crouched position, I wipe away the smudged makeup and slipped my gloves on. I already cried myself out. Flashlight gripped in hand, I numbly flick it on and off, playing around with morse code. Dits and dahs flick by uneventfully. I really don't deserve him. He hates me. And for good reason. I really am a terrible person. A bad seed from a long line of bad apples. Another link in the world's worst chain.
.. .-. . .- .-.. .-.. -.- .-.. .. -.- . -.. -.- - ..- -.. .. .-. .-. . .-.