Xenia; Panthers suck
I have been brought forth to tell an unusual tale. A tale of lies, secrets, cheating and— Shit, I can't do this anymore! Screw the old English accent!
Let's just say I'm here to prove that I have the balls to talk about how a very shitty Olympian ruined my life.
But first, a little backstory.
I'm Xenia, and my life sucks.
My life sucked right from my name. Xenia means gifts or offerings. Which is weird because my family isn't all that religious.
I've had only one nagging question about myself; "Mother, why the eff am I so beautiful?"
I've tried to look at least pretty enough to only attract a second look and no more. I've tried cutting my hair by a lot. I've tried rolling in the dirt. I've tried wearing my great grandmother's clothes for crying out loud! But noo, I still look like Aphrodite.
Beauty has killed me. A lot. Do you know how irritating it is when you're walking down the street and more than half the guys there run towards you begging you to be their girlfriend? They don't just stop and stare. They don't even just ask me to be their girlfriend. They go down on their knees and start begging, crying, bargaining, promising. I'm like "dude, no."
I go to school in rags one day trying to look absolutely haggard and messed up, and some guy comes over and he's like, "Hey there, gorgeous."
In my head I'm thinking "whahahahahahayyyy?"
Shit finally got down on my way to the potter's shop.
I like gardening. Now that's beautiful. The waiting and endurance and trouble you have to go through just for the damn thing to pop from the ground teaches you that beauty takes time and work.
"Your mom would be so proud," Father would say.
"Dad, Mother's right here." I'd reply.
"She isn't," He would say.
I was wearing my usual ski mask, shades and other protective gear for when you don't want to get harassed because you're drop dead gorgeous, when I was faced by a panther.
I was like, "Shmeck."
Yes, I didn't really like being beautiful. But I did not want to die.
"Um, sorry Mr. Panther, but I don't think I would make a very tasty meal. Can you, like, please go?" I said while backing up.
The panther just stood the shit still, as if waiting for something.
Another thing I somehow dislike is being ignored.
"Yo, Panther, I'm right here. Why aren't you doing anything?" I asked.
Still sitting there.
I really had no idea what the hell it was waiting for. A regular panther would've ripped me to shreds.
"Fine then. Stay there. I'll be back in a few minutes." I said and walked into the shop. Then I took my ski mask off.
Some weird guy followed me. He just looked at me. He didn't do the whole begging and pleading thing. Then he left.
I got my stuff and hoped Mr Stalker Predator wasn't still there. He was.
I still hadn't put my ski mask on.
Our creepy panther advanced towards me with such a hunger, such stamina that I tried to run the hell outta there.
"Now you— what the heck?"
Panther knocked my feet off the ground, turned into an eagle, and picked me up by my hoodie faster than you can say why the hell.