a/n: Hi! Well, this is my first attempt at angst. Tell me what you think, okay? :) Critiques are open. :) Oh, and I'm not giving up on my other story, I've just began losing interest lately. So, yeah. It's on Hiatus. :) Oh! And please explain to me the purpose and mechanics of a Beta-Reader. I don't really understand it but I wanna try it. Anyway, here's the story. :)
September 15, 2009
9:32 p.m
Hi. I'm Kim. Kim Conweller. And I'm a pessimist. I'd like to think I'm beautiful. I'm special. I'd like to think that I'm worth something. But, of course, that's all BULLSHIT. I'm not beautiful. In fact, I don't even remotely come close to being pretty let alone B E A U T I F U L. I know I'm fat. I know I'm ugly. I have frizzy hair, boring black dull eyes and a flat body. Pure U G L Y. No one likes looking at me. Everyone around me makes it pretty damn obvious. What, with the way they always make fun of me or laugh at me or simply mocking my pain. No one cares now. Only my dad did, but that was a century ago. Before he died. Everyone knows I'm just a waste of space. Everyone knows I'm N O T H I N G. And I accept that. I don't like it but I accept it. I believe it. Truly and deeply within my heart, I K N O W that I'm useless, that I don't belong anywhere. My name is Kim Conweller. And I'm a pessimist.
I woke up to the beeping of my alarm.
Another day of school. Another day for failure. Another day for disappointment.
Walking in the school campus, no one was paying me attention, as per usual. I couldn't help but wonder, though, what kind of shit I'll do today. What kind of P A I N I can give to those people I care about. I really hope it's nothing serious.
September 23, 2009
5:12 p.m
I'm Kim Conweller. And I'm a pessimist. I got the result of the last quiz I took today. I got an F, of course. I am, after all, the dumb one. My sister, Kelsey, is the perfect daughter. She has the looks – shiny black hair, pearly white teeth, curvaceous body, big brown doe eyes- the talent – an amazing stage performer and an absolute artist – the perfect boyfriend and social status – popular, 'IT' couple, everyone's friend – and the best of all, the attitude – she's absolutely happy; glowing, even. She lives to laugh and make others laugh with her. Kelsey rarely shows weakness and when she does, you're one of the lucky ones because you're trusted by The Kelsey. My sister, Kelsey, is absolutely P E R F E C T. However, I'm not entirely stupid. I know that this is just her way to get over our father's death. Instead of being a loser like me, she distracts herself with other things and somehow, it's working for her. How come I can't be like her? Maybe if I were, I wouldn't be hopeless cause. I could find S O M E T H I N G worth living. I honestly believe that I'm a curse, though. All I've given my mom in the past sixteen years of my existence is D I S A P P O I N T M E N T and P A I N. If only I were someone else. But no, I'm not. My name is Kim Conweller. And I'm a pessimist.
I entered the music room, tired and sleepy. Why I took music class is beyond me. God knows I can't play an instrument for shit. I think it had something to do with Sammie's, my seatmate in English, smooth talking skills but I can't be sure.
October 7, 2009
4:57 p.m.
I'm Kim. Kim Conweller. And I'm a pessimist. Today, I actually went to music class instead of ditching it for my usual pastime; pot. I'm truly messed up, aren't I? Moving on, a girl in music class played a piece called A River Flows in You today. I couldn't help but be awed. Alyssa captured the piece perfectly. It was beautiful and truly a work of art. When it was my turn, I tried playing Ba Ba Black Sheep but to no avail. I just have no skills for music. I can't sing, I can't play an instrument, I can't do A N Y T H I N G. After my failed attempt –yes, another one of my constant failure –everyone gave a sarcastic round of applause. Teenagers can be really cruel. Last year, I had art class. God that was fucked up. I couldn't even make a simple square. And I was using rulers! Sometimes, I really wonder what my purpose in life is. Scratch that. Sometimes, I wonder if I actually have a purpose in this thing called life. Today, I realized something. Well, no. I've realized this a long time ago. It's just, I just really saw it now. I have realized that I have no talent at all. I am U N T A L E N T E D. My sister has her various talents. My mom has beauty, a talent and a gift no one has surpassed. Even my dyslexic Uncle Max has a talent, singing. Why was I even still born? I'm so worthless. My name is Kim. And I'm a pessimist.
"Hey, Karen." I heard someone say. I continued walking though, considering my name isn't Karen. "Hey, fat girl! I'm talking to you!" I stopped. So, the voice was talking to me? I turned around to face the voice. I saw the 'populars' in our year coming near me. Oh, no. This wouldn't end well. My personal tormentors are here. "Uh, my name's Kim," I said lowly, when they were near me. "Yeah, okay. Whatever, Karla," Brooke said. Ah, Brooke. The queen bee. The head cheerleader. The biggest bitch on the block. His girlfriend.
I continued looking at the ground because I knew that if I spoke when not spoken to, I would pay. Their payment is not very nice, too. I came out with a bloody nose, splitting headache and broken arms, once. Hopefully, if I keep my mouth shut, it'll never have to happen again.
She smiled, with an evil glint in her icy blue eyes. Her circle of friends, as well as him, was staring at the scene in front of them looking amused. Well, I'm glad some people find this entertaining, I thought sarcastically to myself. "Kim," Brooke started. "It's family day this Saturday," she said. Oh, god. Does she have to be so cruel? I'd rather take a beating than this any day. I willed myself not to cry. Not in front of them at least. I would never give them the satisfaction. "Who are you bringing? Mommy or. . . Daddy?" She smiled, mockingly at me. How I wanted to slap her. How I wanted to bet her slender form to a bloody pulp. How I wanted to make her feel the amount of hurt she put me through. But I wouldn't. I couldn't, anyway. I'm not nearly as brave enough.
Brooke isn't done yet, though. "I'm bringing my dad, you know. God, I love him. He takes care of me, he provides me with the things I need and you know he's just always there." Shut up! Shut up! Please. The tears were in my eyes now. I continued staring at the floor. "Are you bringing yours, Kimmy?" she said, as if talking to a toddler. "I'd love to see him again. Maybe invite him for dinner, sometime?"
"Look at me!" she snapped. It took me a moment but when I did look up, I just wanted to look back down. Her eyes were so C O L D, so A N G R Y. Probably like my eyes, except my eyes look more D E A D than angry. Actually, I'm probably just a walking dead now. A zombie. Lifeless.
Her eyes went wide, feigning shock but full of mischief. "Oh! That's right! Your dad isn't here! He's never coming back, is he? Oh, I am so sorry! "She laughed. Her friends laughed along with her. However, the one that made the tears fall was that he was there and he didn't do anything.
My supposed to be savior was just laughing along with the group.
I locked eyes with him, with Jared, and ran out the door.
J a r e d T h a i l.
October 25, 2009
11:17 p.m.
I'm Kim. And I'm a pessimist. Sometimes, I'd like to imagine that I'm a princess. That I live in a faraway land with dragons and knights. And that I have a prince who will whisk me away to have forever after with him. Too bad that's not the case. That's never the case, I realize. In place of my perfect prince charming is the devil's advocate, Jared Thail. Don't get me wrong, the boy is beyond gorgeous – sexy as hell chocolate brown eyes, full lips, masculine built and silky black hair. The thing with him though is that he is the exact boy version of Brooke. An asshole, for short. He never touched me once but I know what he's like. He and his fellow jackass friend, Paul, shove many Freshmen and Sophomore teens in places that people should never be shoved. They humiliate, hurt and just plain bully. As for the girls, though they each have their respective girlfriends, they still fool around with other girls. The only reason he never touches me is due to the fact that I'm a girl. But, me being the idiot child that I am falls head over heels for him, anyway. Okay, I'm lying. I'm not inlove with the guy, I just like him. Really, really like him. Don't ask me why though because I'm not really sure myself. I think though that it's because of his eyes. They seem so mysterious and it's like he's been through something he shouldn't have to. It's as if how he is now is all for a reason. A protection. From what though, I don't know. I know this C R U S H thing is won't go anywhere but I can't help it. Huh. Not only am I a pessimist, but I'm also a masochist. Wonderful. I've never had a boyfriend before and honestly, I don't think I ever will. So sad, really. But it's the truth. In all honesty, I want to be that girl that boys would follow around just to have a minute of her time, someone who's just so I N T E R E S T I N G. But I'm the exact opposite. Someone who's nothing like that. And that's the story of my life. I'm Kim. And I'm a pessimist.
Jared was absent today. Again. It's been a week and a half already. I wonder if he died or moved away. I'd prefer the latter. He being dead would probably be too much for me to handle. I'm truly pathetic.
At lunch, I went to the cafeteria. I wanted to skip like usual but I didn't get to eat breakfast this morning and my stomach's been rumbling since second period. I had no choice.
As I was walking down the cafeteria, looking for a seat, a foot stepped out from under a table. You could probably guess what happens next. I tripped, falling face first; the contents of my supposedly lunch falling all over my hair and clothes.
It was dead silent as I stood. However, when I slipped from my spilled milk, the taunting laughter of the student body erupted. I wanted to hurt that person so much for the humiliation. This isn't the first time this happened after all and every time it happens, I just watch them push me around. God, these people are horrible. Not one of them tried helping me. Some sent me sympathetic looks but did no motion or sign of helping. I understand. If you associate with the outsider, the freak, you would be spiraling yourself to social damnation.
I looked at the foot sticking out from under the table first. Then I let my eyes wander up to the face of the person. Allana. The second-in-command of Brooke. She was the one who tripped me. Beside her, Brooke was laughing the hardest among everyone as if my fall was the funniest thing on earth. And maybe for them, it is.
November 12, 2009
6:21 p.m.
I'm Kim Conweller. And I'm a pessimist. I hate how I'm such a coward. I hate how I can never stand up for myself. I hate how I always let others get away with what they want from me. I hate how I can never fight back. Most of all, I hate how weak I am. Every little thing those bullies do to me always, A L W A Y S hurt me. I try to stop the tears from flowing, I really do, but most of the time, it's just a little too much. I want to be brave. I want to be someone people would be happy to be friends with because they know I've got their back. I want to be someone who can speak her mind without a problem, no matter who she's talking to. I want to be like Kelsey. But I'm not. I'm Kim. And I'm a pessimist.
My mom, Kelsey and I were eating together for the first time in over four months. Yes, I counted. The whole dinner time was awkward. With small talks, mostly from my sister and mom. I join in a couple hello's but not much. I just silently chew and observe the pitter-patter of the raindrops on our window.
"Don't you think, Kim?" my mom asked, startling me. I was lost. I really haven't been listening and I have no idea what she's talking about.
"Uh, yeah. Definitely," I answered.
"Is everything alright, Kimmy?" My mom questioned. I know it's wrong but my hands were itching to slap her. How come she's only concerned NOW? Why now? Nothing has changed yet she chose now to care? Maybe, she's just tired and felt like things would be easier if she pretended everything was fine. After all, that's the best thing we Conwellers' know how to do: pretend.
I looked over my sister and saw that she was staring at me as if she just remembered she had a sister. I wanted to scratch her eyes out. I wanted to ask her what the fuck happened. We were so close before, truly sisters. Why did it have to stop?
But, of course I didn't do any of the two. I simply forced out a smile and replied a low, "Yeah."
November 17, 2009
2: 12 a.m.
I'm Kim Conweller. And I'm a pessimist. I've always loved fairytales. Even with all the shit going on in my life. I just really loved the idea of happily ever after, ya know? However, me being me doesn't believe it. My family used to be happy. My mom didn't bury herself with work or came home late at night only to drink scotch or whiskey, crying silently until she fell asleep. My sister used to give real laughs and an inviting warm smile. I used to be truly happy. We were all truly happy. It was the one time in my life when I felt A L I V E and W O R T H I T. Thanks to one person. My dad. God, I really miss him. Sometimes, I imagine him still being there giving me a good night kiss and hugging me goodbye before school just to ease the pain of L O S S. Our family wasn't the only one happy to have my dad, too. Everyone in La Push knew him. He may not be an elder but everyone knew of his kindness and gentleness that everyone couldn't help but love him. He was a faithful husband, a caring father, a respectable citizen and a good man. But then the incident happened. The S H O O T I N G. I was fourteen back then. Someone in the high school department came to school drunk bringing a gun. My dad, Lawrence, being the good man that he is, came to the school to help. Back then, I didn't really ask what happened, afraid of the answer. I just remembered being pulled out of my Science Class and was asked to go home. When I got home, I saw my beautiful sister crying. I remember being truly scared then. My sister rarely ever cried, and when she did, it's usually for something serious. When she saw me, she ran up the stairs, banging her door in the process. My mom, however, was so much worse. No, she was not crying but she was simply staring into space. Her eyes void of emotion while muttering, "he'll be back". It was a painful sight. I wondered where my dad was, why he wasn't comforting my mom. I recall asking a police officer where my dad was. I also recall him giving me a sympathetic look. The officer explained to me what happened and I just stared at him, not believing. I remember locking myself for weeks in my room until the funeral. That was when reality hit me. H A R D. That was the first time since my father D I E D that I cried. In the funeral, half the town was there. Everyone gave me their condolences. Even thinking about it now still makes me angry. They have no right to tell me it's going to be okay. They weren't the one who lost a father. They weren't the one who lost a best friend. They weren't the one who lost half her self-worth. They didn't know half of the pain I was feeling. They weren't the one whose dad can't walk them down the aisle on her wedding day or give a congratulatory hug in graduation. No. It was me. Kim Conweller. The pessimist.
I smiled to myself know that today was the day I've been waiting for. I couldn't have been happier. Today, at four o'clock. I smiled again. I couldn't wait.
If someone were to know of my plan, they would think I'm insane. But, am I really? All I want is to be reunited with someone I love who loves me back, and it's happening T O D A Y. With this thought, I was so happy, I almost felt giddy.
All around the school, I heard Jared had come back from his two weeks and a half absence. Oh, today just keeps getting better and better.
"Have you seen him? He is so hot now."
"I call dibs on him!"
"Where is he now? I want to see him! I demand a make-out session!"
The last one came from Brooke. It was just too funny but I held in my laughter.
"Conweller?"
"Present." It was attendance check-up in History. The infamous Jared was in this class but the devil was nowhere to be seen. I would know, I am his seatmate after all. Plus, he's the talk of the school since I came in the school gates.
After a couple more names were called, the door suddenly burst open. There in the doorway was none other than Jared. He looked different. Good D I F F E R E N T. His height shot up a good foot or two, maybe about 6'5 now, totally towering over my 5'8. His shoulder broadened and even under his black shirt, the six-pack was well-defined. His eyes were cold and sharp watching everyone watch him. His sexy lips were twisted in a frown. And, finally, his long silky black hair was cropped short to a buzz cut.
He stopped at the teacher's desk, mumbling an apology and asking for the things he's missed before coming over to our shared desk. He ignored all the calls his friends were giving him as he headed for our desk. He sat on his chair, not looking at me once. As usual.
I noticed, while we were copying notes, Jared's frame was tense and he was visibly shaking. I was about to ask him if he was alright when his pencil broke. He mumbled a curse and shot his head up.
He looked pissed off when he faced me, tapping me lightly on the shoulder. However, when his eyes met mine, his whole face changed.
It was almost comical how his eyes went wide, his mouth hung open and how his body seemed to freeze. Well, I guess since this is the last time I'll be seeing him, all of them, really, I might as well unleash the bitch inside of me.
"What's wrong with you? Never seen a girl's face before? " I said in an icy tone. He continued staring. I glared at him and went back to my paperwork. After a good ten minutes though, I noticed he was still staring at me. This time, so did Mr. Wade.
"Mr. Thail! I'm sure Ms. Conweller is a very attractive young lady but could you please focus on our lesson and woo her later?"
I snorted. How ironic is it that the day I decide to end my problems would be the day I get called attractive, not to mention being stared at by Jared? Very ironic, indeed.
Jared seemed to snap out of whatever daze he was in and faced the board. But for some reason, he continued stealing glances at me throughout the class. Everytime I caught him, I made sure I gave him a pissed off look to deliver my message.
The bell couldn't ring fast enough, but when it did, I bolted right out the door. Unfortunately, so did Jared. With his long legs, he caught up with me in no time. Before he spoke to me though, I whirled around to face him.
I formed my face into what I hoped to be a pissed off look and started talking. "What do you want, Thail? I have no time for you. It's almost third period and I'll be late. By the way, did your parents ever tell you that it's rude to stare?" I said, angrily.
"You're beautiful," he blurted out.
To say I was shocked would be an understatement. However, that shock turned to suspicion then to anger as I caught on to his game.
"Look, Thail. I don't know what game you're playing or what trick you're pulling. Whatever it is, I want out. Tell me what you want the others to hear and I'll say it. Just leave me the fuck alone." I threw at him.
He smiled, goofily. "Tell the whole school you're mine."
I stared at him in utter shock. So did the other people in the hallway, actually. I forgot there were other people here, too. Oops.
"You're crazy." I hissed. His smile fell. "Well, I'm all yours –" he stopped. I waited for him to continue but then I realized why he stopped. He didn't know my name. Asshole. I have been his classmate since kindergarten not to mention the subject of his girlfriend's bullying and he still has no idea what my name is? Damn fucker.
He must have noticed my expression because he looked nervous. He looked around trying to see if anyone could tell him my name. The hallways were dead silent. "What's my name, Jared?" I asked, dangerously.
He looked lost. "I- well- I, I. I don't know," he looked down, ashamed. The laughter of the whole school was burning my ear. My eyes started to water but I refuse to let them fall.
I slapped him. When he looked up, I met his eyes and put all the hate I had for the world in that one look and spat, "Kim". After I said it, he looked so sad and angry. It looked like he wanted to be anywhere but here, actually. I looked at the crowd angrily and bellowed "What are you all looking at? Go to class!" Everyone listened to me and proceeded to their business. I looked back at Jared and he still looked angry. Well, the nerve of him. He's the one who doesn't know my name and he's angry? Jerk.
I turned and walked away. But before I could get that far, a hot hand grabbed my wrist. I sighed and looked around. At least no one's here anymore. I looked at the hand then looked at Jared. "What now?" I hissed.
"Why do you hate me so much?" he asked, looking so pained I almost felt bad. Almost.
I gaped at him. Then I formed my eyes into slits and Jared flinched, probably from the anger radiating off of me. "Well, Thail." I spat his name like it was acid. "There are many answers to that question."
He looked so defeated. "What do you mean?"
I couldn't control my temper anymore. "Your little slut bullies me everyday, Jared!" I screamed while poking his shoulder. "She hurts me physically and emotionally every fucking day. She makes fun of everything I lost and reminds me of my flaws. Every. Single. Day." I craned my neck to meet his eyes. "The reason why I H A T E you so much is because everytime she hurts me you're there. And what do you do? Nothing! Absolutely nothing! All you do is watch her finish me and most of the time, even laugh at me! Do you know how that breaks me?" I didn't even realize I was crying until I a drop fell on the corner of my lips. I hastily wiped my eyes and cheeks. I looked up at Jared and saw recognition, guilt, regret and anger there. He was also shaking, too.
When he spoke, his voice was shaky. "That – we – that girl was you?"
I glared at him. "Yes, dumbshit. That girl is me." And with that, I ran. Not to my next class but to my car. I couldn't wait until four anymore. I had to do it now. I can't take the pain anymore.
I need my dad.
I reached the farthest cliff from La Push in no time. This is it. I'm ending all my worldly troubles and be in the hands of my loving father again. I smiled a teary smile. Finally. I couldn't wait to be with my dad anymore.
As I reached the tip of the cliff, I thought about the people I'll be leaving. They're not much, really. My mom, who's never really there. I think she'll be a little sad but probably a lot happier that I'm gone. Kelsey, well, she'll continue living her life. She'll be sad for awhile but she'll move on. And lastly, Jared. I don't even know why or how he popped up in my head. My knight in shining armor. I almost laughed. How childish of me. If, and only if, he really were magically interested in me, I think it's too late. He's hurt me so much in the past it would be hard to forgive. And even if I were able to, I could never truly heal. Honestly, I'm done already. I'm leaving for good and nothing or no one can stop me.
I'll be with you real soon, daddy. Give me a few more minutes and we'll be together.
As I was about to jump, I heard the faintest sound of a wolf howl. Ironically, it sounds as if he was telling me to wait for him. That he could save me. I laughed humorlessly. Sorry, wolf. I'm far way in too deep pain to simply let go.
Then I jumped.
The last thing I thought of before succumbing to unconsciousness was:
Hi. My name is Kim Conweller. And I'm a twisted pessimist.
Reviewwww! :)
