"You know, you don't always have to be so mean," Harold stated as he paddled his canoe next to a beaten-up Heather, who was walking on land.
"EXCUSE me?" Heather asked, both surprised and disgusted at the auburn-haired geek's remark.
"Maybe if you were nicer, someone here might actually like you," Harold continued, completely unfazed.
"People like me?" Heather snapped. "I'm POPULAR!"
"Then how come no one wanted you on their team?"
"You're alone. What's your damage?"
"I'm alone by choice. I'm kind of like a lone wolf."
Heather paused. Then, she broke down.
"I don't like being mean all the time," she sobbed, sitting down onto a rock. "It's kind of become this habit of mine. Do you think that it's fun being the one that everyone hates? Look at me! I don't even have any hair!"
"Maybe you're so afraid everyone will reject you that you push them away first," Harold said gently. "I'm guessing either your parents are divorced, or you were really fat and pimply once."
Heather stiffened. "So when did you become such an expert?" she asked.
Heather shivered, even though her thick winter clothes were more than enough to protect her from the biting February cold. Walking home from school down the bustling streets of Vancouver never felt so lonely. Today, seventh grade was worse than usual: a girl in Heather's math class, whom she had tried to befriend, called her "fat and pimply", among other things, in front of the whole entire class.
This wasn't the first time Heather was insulted like this, of course. Even though her brother had teased her at home, and her schoolmates often called her names, Heather only felt that the insults got worse every time.
A golden lucky cat sculpture in a nearby shop window caught Heather's eye, and a rare smile formed on her spotty face. She had almost forgotten, but today was chun jie – Chinese New Year. For every year of her life, Heather saw this holiday as a time to celebrate and be happy no matter what the circumstances.
Everything in my life has been going wrong. But maybe today will be different, Heather thought, hopeful. Maybe today, my mom might actually start caring about me, like she did before. Maybe today, I'll actually be happy.
Her breath billowing in small clouds, Heather dashed down the Vancouver streets as fast as her short, slightly chubby legs could carry her. She stopped to quickly say "jie ri kuai le" – "happy holidays" – or "gong xi fa cai" – "much happiness and prosperity" – to a few passerby, but she didn't stop running until she reached the door to her apartment. Forgetting to knock, she flung open the door, expecting the place to be decorated with red lanterns and other symbols of good luck.
Heather's home was empty.
Well, not really. All the furniture in the main room was there, but the apartment contained virtually no holiday spirit. There wasn't a single decoration in sight, the television was blank, the kitchen was silent, and the drabness of the sofas and rugs made the whole place look more hopeless than celebratory.
She wasn't sure exactly why this had happened, but Heather knew one thing: this was the first Chinese New Year that her mother didn't celebrate in any way.
Stifling her tears, Heather walked deeper into her home and discovered her mother doing what she seemingly did every day since baba left: sitting at a study desk piled with various forms and papers while staring at a computer screen with an expression that looked like she was in pain.
"Mama?" Heather called, but her mother did not respond.
"Mama!" Heather exclaimed. Then she said in Chinese, "Where are the decorations? Remember? It's Chinese New Year!"
Heather's mother sighed and turned around in her chair. Even though she was only forty, the woman looked almost ten years older than her age with her tired eyes, wrinkles, and gray hair.
"Heather," her mother stated in English, sadly but matter-of-factly, "We do not have time to celebrate this year. Right now, I have to deal with a lawsuit as well as search for a job. I'm sorry, but I didn't have time to put up the decorations." She sighed. "Things have been really tough for me, you, and your brother ever since the divorce."
Heather shuddered. It was that word again. The word that meant her father was never, ever going to come back.
"Mei guan xi, mama," Heather persisted, wondering why her mother was not answering her in Chinese the way she had done before the trouble with baba. "No worries, mother. I'll put up the decorations instead. I'll even cook the feast, if you're really busy. Nothing should stop us from celebrating!"
Heather's mother shook her head and turned around. "I'm sorry… but I don't think this year is really worth celebrating." Her voice was strained. At that moment, the phone on the desk rang, and the expression on her face darkened. "Heather, I have to answer the phone. Will you please go to your room?"
"But –" Heather protested. She had wanted to talk with her mother about what had happened in school today. But the woman had already picked up the phone and was talking into it, unable to answer her daughter.
Heather sighed in defeat and walked slowly to her bedroom. A single tear glistened on her cheek, but Heather felt like she had to cry some more. Even though it was Chinese New Year, it was stupid to even hope that her mother would pay any attention to her. Ever since her father left, her had mother spent almost every day staring at documents or talking on the phone. Whenever mama had the rare opportunity to pay attention to her children, she almost always directed that attention towards Heather's brother, who was a junior in high school and always seemed more important than Heather.
I knew that my mother wouldn't care about Chinese New Year this year, Heather thought sadly as she opened the light purple door to her room. It's not like she – or anyone else, for that matter – even cares about me anymore.
Heather was about to head straight for her bed when a small red box on her dresser drawer caught her eye. She smiled slightly, for she knew that the box contained a very special object: a small red lantern that she had decorated herself so many years ago. Throughout all these years, Heather always made sure to hang the lantern on her window every time Chinese New Year rolled around. For her, it was a true symbol of happiness and prosperity.
I know mama has stopped caring, but maybe, just maybe, I can celebrate my own Chinese New Year, Heather thought dubiously, feeling a slight flicker of hope. She picked up the box and walked towards the window. But when she walked past the tall wall mirror, and took a glance at her reflection, all the warmth she had briefly felt vanished into thin air.
Heather knew this feeling. She experienced this whenever she looked into a mirror: no matter how happy she was, one peek into any mirror never failed to erase that happiness. And yet, for this past year, Heather couldn't stop doing it. The mirror was something Heather found herself staring at almost every day. At this moment, just like the countless moments in the past, all the tears she had been holding in suddenly came pouring out as she seemed to see who she was.
I'm a hopeless, sad, ugly, fat, and pimply girl.
Look at me, Heather thought sadly. I will never pass for a perfect girl, or a perfect daughter. I'm such a terrible-looking failure. I'm just so heavy and fat… so that's why no one, not even my own mother, likes or cares about me. That's why my life stinks so much right now.
Heather's face twisted into a frown of pure hatred as she thought of the pretty, popular girls in her school. Why couldn't she be like them? Why couldn't she be a part of the most feared and respected group in her school, the group whom everyone had to like?
"But I can be popular," Heather said out loud in English, turning away from her sorry reflection in the mirror. "No – I will become popular," she said with greater conviction.
She walked over to the window and stared at the city skyline.
"I'll become thin and pretty, with all the right clothes. I'll become just like them – the girls in school who are always surrounded by crowds. Then, I'll be respected by everyone. Then, I'll get what I want. Then, nobody – nobody – will have the right to ignore me or call me 'fat and pimply' ever again."
A writhing feeling was stirring in Heather's heart. It was like little worms and snakes were slithering disgustingly up and down her throat. But at the same time, she liked the feeling. It was as if a new, powerful side of her had finally surfaced and was ready to take revenge on everyone who had wronged her.
Heather stared disapprovingly at the small red box that contained her lantern. All of a sudden, all its previous significance seemed to disappear. In a sudden rage, without thinking about who or what it might hit, she flung open the window and hurled the box down into the streets below.
I don't need that stupid lantern anymore, Heather thought, slamming the window shut. All these years, it hasn't made me pretty and popular. You know what? I hate Chinese New Year. I hate everyone. From now on, I'm going to become popular at all costs, and I won't let anyone or anything get in my way.
That night, Heather didn't eat at all because her thoughts had formed a tight knot in her stomach. She was too busy thinking about how to join the popular crowd. The change in Heather didn't stop there, however. From then on, she held everyone at a cold distance. From then on, she was so bent on being feared and respected that she didn't realize how her actions alienated everyone. Heather never spoke a single word of Chinese again.
A/N:
1.) This actually isn't my first Total Drama story - I just decided to upload this first because today is Heather Appreciation Day on Tumblr.
2.) I plan on writing "Before the Darkness" stories on all the other main TD antagonists (Justin, Courtney, Alejandro, and Scott).
3.) Heather has been confirmed to be Asian. If you're wondering why I made Heather Chinese, it's because I'm Chinese myself and I wanted to be able to relate to her.