My name is Briar. I was named after Briar Rose, or Sleeping Beauty. Don't know why, my parents don't even like Sleeping Beauty. Their least favourite movie. I've always hated my name, too. Wish I was named something cool, but no. I get shit like Briar.
I'm outside the town restaurant. It has a random ass name that I don't care to remember. I crack open a can of Pepsi and down half of it in one sip. Today was the fucking worst. You know a day is bad when even Heathers can't make it better.
Then I see some random girl from my school pass by on an orange bike. She waves and smiles. She has red hair, dark red hair. It's obviously dyed red, it's a shade that isn't natural. Her eyes are light, either blue or a light green. What's her name again? Eh, probably nothing. Why did she wave at me?
I finish the can of Pepsi and throw it in a garbage bin, walking after the redheaded girl. Her orange bike stands out against all other things, so I see her perfectly. I finally catch up to her and she turns to me. "Briar?"
"Oh! Hey, um, what's your name?" She smiles and looks behind her warily. She looks worried, like I'll hurt her. Why woulf I hurt her?
"My name is Emelia." She turns around again. "Don't tell anyone." She then starts to put her feet back on the pedals, but I touch her shoulder to stop her. "Fuck off, Father might see you!"
"No." I speak, and she turns to me. "Emelia, why are you so scared of everything?"
"Father. He wouldn't want me even looking at other people. I've gotta blast, bye!" She speeds off, and I'm left there with the taste of Pepsi lingering in my mouth. What in the hell is up with her?
"Well, fuck me gently with a chainsaw. What's her problem?" I turned around to go back home.
I see my house; it's easy to spot among the others. See, my house is blue with a red door, while all the others are green with brown doors. I knock on the door to see if my dads are home. "Get on in, bitch, I'm making cookies!" Yes. Dad's home. When the fuck will Pa be home though?
"Hey Dad! Uh, I met this girl, Emelia. Hot as hell." He smiles and puts in food colouring. "I think she's being abused though."
"Well, damn. Who would abuse their child?" He then starts mixing. "If you didn't want kids, you shouldn't have had them. Bitch."
"Dad, can I watch Heathers while you make the cookies?" I asked, and he looked offended.
"So you just gon watch Heathers without me? Bitch, nuh uh. Watch some other shit, Heathers you gotta watch with me." He then puts the batter-like shit in the oven.
