Disclaimer: I don't own School of Rock, zomg. x-x
I was bored and I needed to write something before I start up my FreddyZack fic. Can be seen as FreddyKatie or ZackKatie. Katie's POV, obviously.
You walk down the hallways and you flip your hair, your bag swinging carelessly at your side as you head toward your locker. You smile your stupid smile and I want to fucking kill you.
I hate you, I hate you, I hate you, my God I fucking hate you. You're poisoned honey and you want everyone to love you so that you can destroy them all and not give a damn about it.
And you think it's funny, apparently. How do I know? It's not that hard, darling. You sit on your pedestal and watch them all crumble in pain after having a piece of you. You don't seem to realize it, but they're done wanting to die.
He used to hurt, and I want you to feel twice the pain he felt. I want you to cry and sulk, curled up in your little corner and I want to smile daggers at you so that you feel that much more like shit.You try to start a conversation with me but I'm not going for it. I'm walking away from you, dirty whore, I will always walk away from you, because I'm done, too. Just assume I've suddenly found myself more interested in a fly, or something. I don't care.
You're laughing again, and I want to pull my notebook out of my bag and smack it across your stupid face and get you to shut the hell up. She's talking to you again, and you're talking back with that same ugly smile, and I need to know how she puts up with you.
You give him that flirty, disgusting wave at him again ashe walks byand you giggle. And I pull out my old, unneeded composition book, and toss it at your head before I keep walking. I only stop once, to smile to myself after I hear it smack against the back of your head.
I hope you die, Eleni, you dirty whore. His pain is my pain and it always will be, even if we're never together. I want you to know that I hate you, by the way. I will always hate you for what you did to him. For what you did them... all of them.
It'll come back to get you in the end. It always does.
And when you get hit, it'll be with something much worse than a composition book. I just smirk, and keep walking.
I hate you, and I want you to die.