Hey there, you! Alright, so this is my story, I created it. Don't steal it or I'll hunt you down and eat your soul, as I do on a regular basic because I'm an evil scubas. This chapter's not too bad, but the stories rated M for a reason- my mind is filthy. It's also not all human or anything like that. It's the same basic story line except (1) Victoria never tried to kill Bella- you'll see how that changes things later on- and (2) it's three years in the Twilight universe future.
Disclaimer: I don't own Twilight, but Honor is mine to do with as I please. Don't touch her!
I could almost feel their eyes on me; the sea of russet skinned kids that cluttered the hallways. They looked at me like I was a freak of nature, like I didn't belong at all. Most of them parted when I got close, but a few would occasionally get in the way, pushing me with their sides while muttering "pale face" under their breath. And as if that wasn't enough, when I got to the classroom, the teacher eyed me as if I was no good, a complete troublemaker.
A whole week there and nothing had changed. I sat outside during lunch, alone, pretending to read our assigned literature book. I hadn't made a single friend. But I had made a whole bunch of enemies. A whole school full to be exact. In classes, I tried to blend into the shadows in the back of the room. People continually made sly little comments to me whenever they could get close enough for me to hear.
"Look, it's the blue eyed, toe headed bimbo! Careful, don't get too close."
"Hey, paleface, don't forget the sunblock, you might get cloud-burn."
They were stupid, and, if you weren't part of the Russet's, would seem like a poor way to make fun of someone, but it was enough to make groups of people flare up in laughter. I tried my best to ignore it, but sometimes it's hard. You can only take so much before you feel like you're about to explode. And when I explode, things get ugly. Real ugly. I don't break down crying and feeling pathetic for myself, enough said.
It wasn't until that final bell rang that I finally let my shoulders relax a little. Jumping from the desk, I bolted for the door, not caring whatever useless information the teacher was spouting out. The sweet freedom on Saturday and Sunday was only a few minutes away from my grasp. Shoving books in my locker had never taken so freaking long. But, after a short life time, I was outside, surrounded by piles of white and dead brown. Without thinking my chest released a gust of air, causing a cloud of barely visible breath to puff up in front of my mouth.
"Hey, Barbie, where do you think you're going?" A girl called from not too far behind me.
That was my queue to drop the daises and get moving. I pretended that I didn't hear her and began walking. This got me a few more calls, but they stopped and just when I had thought I was home free, a hand grabbed my shoulder, yanking me backwards. I stumbled, but stayed standing.
"Barbie, I'm talking to you." She pushed my shoulder, but released me. I saw a group of her friends, boys and girls, start to slink toward her. A big group of following puppies, that's what they were. Waiting for their master to call upon them and give them something semi-useful to do.
"My name is Honor, not Barbie." I said, gritting my teeth and purposely looking away from her. This chick was about to get all kinds of messed up. Not that she wasn't already.
Mrs. Doomed laughed. "Really? You sure look like a Barbie. Doesn't she look like a Barbie, guys?"
Her group was close enough to hear ad laughed in response. They started to circle me, a ring of tan faces around my fair white one which was almost a match to the snow on the ground.
The girl pulled at a piece of my hair. "I think I should bleach my hair blonde, what do you guys think? Would it look good?"
I flicked her hand away and tried to push myself through the circle, but they weren't going to have that. I noted that a few of them stared to close in, making the space in the middle smaller and smaller. Like the lack of room was really going to help them
"Blonde hair doesn't look good on anyone." One of the guys answered. Kiss up, I remarked to myself. "Sorry, but, you're no acceptation."
The girl smiled, happy she got a point across. "You're right, maybe we should help Barbie our and cut it off for her."
I rolled my eyes and tried to push myself out again, almost making it until Kiss Up grabbed my waist and yanked me back. He smirked at me like he was some kind of tough guy, still grasping my waist. His fingers tightened around my waist, squeezing me uncomfortably.
"You're not going anywhere, not yet." He said, giving me a look that did it. He gave me one of those look overs that showed he was eye-molesting my amazingly pale, perky body. He. Was. Dead.
This is going to be fun, I said to myself.
"Let go of me." My voice was strong, but not very loud. It was pitched specifically to Kiss Up, do just he could hear the severity in my tone.
"Oh, scary." The Mrs. Doomed said. "What are you going to do about it? Yell for someone to come and help you? Pathetic."
I glared at the guy still holding my waist. His eyes widened a little and alarm shimmered in them. He quickly recovered though and put on a face that said make me. That's it, time to break out the big guns; the scariest thing known to mankind. Numbers.
"One."
"Oh no, she's serious now!" Mrs. Doomed said, causing everyone to laugh, though it wasn't as strong an confident as before.
"Two."
"She's almost to three, you better let go. She's gonna' get you!" Again the group put in their collective, uncomfortable laugh track.
I tightened one hand into a fist and coiled my body, completely ready to hold to my promise. Hell, I was even a little excited. Wouldn't it be great to take down a six foot oaf?
"Three."
My fist pulled back just a little bit-
Okay, great job everybody! Hope you're still alive and my freakingly awesome wrighting skills didn't put you in a sudden, irreversible coma :D
It's happened before! I'm just that amazing! *cough, cough*
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