This chappie is short. Very short compared to my chappies. But I like it. MOOWAHHAHAA.
Enjoy.
Disclaimer: Shhhh...
Louisa came up to me just as I was packing my bag with books from my locker in the breezeway. It was the end of the day and I was dying to get home to Jesse. I felt a tap-tap-tap on my shoulder and I spun round.
"Hi!" Louisa squealed. I grunted in reply and shouldered my bag, heading out to the car park.
"Um, could I...could I talk to you?" She stammered, I groaned then snapped, "Make it quick." She looked down and said, "Oh, but...I really would like to talk to you now...it's kinda urgent...we could walk home while chatting, if it would be any easier?" I stared at her.
"Alright," I said dejectedly. "Lemme just tell Brad." So I slouched over to the car and informed Dopey I would be walking home because "it is such a lovely day." Then I slung my bag into the car, and stalked back over to Louisa. She grinned and started walking to the gates briskly. I growled and followed.
We walked quite a while in silence. Odd, I thought, isn't the reason we're walking because she wanted to talk? But when I glanced at her, she didn't look like she was in a talking mood. Her face was grim and her mouth was a straight, thin line. In fact, she looked kinda annoyed. I frowned and turned away, concentrating on not being caught unawares by lurking poison oak.
You never know.
"So..." I began after a mile, "Anything in particular bothering you?" I turned my head towards Louisa and found her lips had thinned even more. She stopped abruptly.
"Actually, Susie, there is."
"Suze," I corrected snappily. I didn't like her tone of voice. It was hot, I was tired, and I was aching for Jesse. So what was this bitch in such a mood for?
"Whatever, bitch." Okay, that got my attention.
"What did you just-"
"I am fed up of you thinking you are better than me, just because you are alive. You think you can steal all those guys from me? You can't. I am prettier than you. Every guy wants me. Not you Susie, me. Paul is mine. Sean is mine. Jesse is mine."
Her lips were almost invisible and her eyes were slits. Her fists were also shaking uncontrollably – spasming out and hitting her thighs hard. Not that she noticed.
The loose pavement slabs were also quivering on the floor. And a flock of bird flew from various tree along the roads.
Uh oh.
"One: Paul is not mine. He never will be. I don't want him to be. Just because he doesn't want you, doesn't mean it's my fault. It's your fault for being so clingy and..." I searched for the right word, "slutty."
Her nose lifted at one corner and she snarled.
"Two: Sean is not mine either. And, no offence, I don't think you're his type. He prefers brunettes."
The trees along the side-walk were shaking dangerously.
"Three: Jesse is mine. You will never have Jesse, OK? Hands off. And finally: I don't think I'm better than you because I'm alive. I know I'm better than you because I have standards."
Like I said, I wasn't in the best of moods.
With an almighty roar, the freak-bitch grabbed my arm – hard, it felt like someone had wrapped a burning cloth around my arm – and hurled me into the road.
Normally, this would've pissed me off majorly, but it would've been OK. You know? Nothing too bad. Like I said, we mediators recover quickly from accidents and we don't get hurt easily.
I landed with a thud and a surprised yelp in the road. I had a brief second to catch Louisa waving sadistically at me, her head tilted to one side, before the pickup hit me.
And everything went black.
We mediators recover quickly from accidents...
...
Not anymore.