i just felt in the mood to write some cutiepines (genderbent parapines)! just to lay of stress & stuff. they're a bit older here, maybe in freshman or sophomore year ovo
this is short, but i hope you enjoy it anyway! uwu
Bright day, shining sun. How ironic, it was the opposite of what she was feeling. Where's the thunder & the dark clouds? The rain?
The lesson being taught was nothing but a blur, each word being spoken a cause of complete and utterboredom. It was distracting, however, which was good. And bad, if you were to look at things academically. But that thought was just a fleck of dust lost in a river of them. And worse, those thoughts were collecting. Flooding. They were uncontrollable & unstoppable, at this point.
Bullying never seemed to stop, no matter where you'd go. Hallways. Bathrooms. And what for? Stupid, immature, insensitive people. It was disgusting, how hate spread everywhere, right? No escape. Just like this classroom. And no, she's not cutting classes. Terrible first impression. Bad idea. She folds her arms as her position changes every few minutes, and wow, being ignored was underrated. This was great. No one cares. And that's not sarcastic. Despite this room being a prison, at least here, she'd be left ALONE. Her hands trace to her pockets, looking for any spare pieces of candy, and unfortunately, there's none. Damn. Back to drowning in thoughts.
No, no. People won't like you thinking. Because you're so cynical. It'll show.
And they'll hate you for it. Ugh. Why do people hate things they've never
even been through? It didn't make sense. But okay, whatever. Think of
things you've seen today. More distraction. Yes.
Most of the time, though, the only thing cobalts would see was the floor. Her feet. Taking steps, walking, the normal. Eye contact was evil, anyway. But there were a few odd things about this town. A few ghosts, yes. Though, they didn't seem too friendly. Most of them were ignorant. It's your first day anyway, relax. They could be shy? Then a few other kids being bullied, too. She wished she could help, really, but that spark was not kindled well enough to go a blaze, at the moment. Not enough fuel. She longed for that. Bravery. Life would be so much easier with it. And then after that, just school, then walking home, then avoiding people, then ... repeat, probably... but what then? ... why did they have to move? ... she'd have to ... to ...
Oh, the bell. Thank the gods it's over. Pack things. Leave. Get the hell out of here.
She does as she did most of the days, her eyes on the floor. Mouth shut. Usual routine. Safe.
But walking home, she again sees someone being bullied. Short kid, though, her face seemed familiar. She was in her class, maybe? And for a while, she just stays there and watches. Her frame is idle, her hand clutching her backpack strap, eyes viewing the scene. At that point, she wasn't very sure what happened, but she found her fuel. The fuel to get her to actually do something about it. Anger. This was so unfair. So unfair. So unfair!
Norma Babcock had moved to Gravity Falls, Oregon.
Maybe she should start anew.
Have new beginnings.