Letters To and From a Stranger
By: g0ldensnidget, a.k.a. Snitch
Author's notes: um… hi all. *looks around carefully, once sure no axes are coming her way, continues:* I'm really, reaaaaaallyyyyyy sorry I've been out for so long… our computer was being formatted, yeah… at least the internet's working now…
Anyway, this chapter's gonna include some swearwords (fuck, mostly), and so maybe this chapter is PG-13. I'll try and keep it to a minimum, however. Enjoy. I enjoyed writing this (almost); it was a good stress-reliever. (hence all the 'fuck's)
(Letter XVIII)
Dear Harry,
Yeah, once a month sounds good… school is getting harder by the hour… here too. But I promise I'll make time for you once a month!
Anyway, I feel completely fucked up. School is a bitch, and I suck at mathematics. First, there's Algebra. Hideous. Then, there's Geometry. Gah. And then, there's both of them, three fucking times a week. And not just in a notebook. Oh no. Our teacher now wants all homework to be turned fucking in. Add all that to the fact that I failed the last exam. The only exam we had this year – and this is a new teacher, I didn't have her last year – and I fucking fail. Not by so much – 52 – but still, I've failed. She probably has a bad impression of me now. Really, I'm not a bad student! Last year, my average was 78! I'll admit, that's not exactly top-spot in the school, but at least I'd never failed! I've never failed an exam in my life! And it has to be Math, of course, fucking Algebra and Geometry. I also failed a quiz… Fuck, I feel so fucking fucked up.
I'm taking a private tutor. Or at least I think I am… the thing is, we haven't gotten the exams themselves back. We only got the grades. But when I'll get mine back, I'll go over every single detail with a magnifying glass and I'm gonna see why I failed. I mean, it's not like I didn't study!! I studied with two of my friend for two and a half fucking hours! And the exam, while I was doing it, was pretty ok – I was sure I'd get at least 70! But no. I failed. I fucking, fucking failed. Fuck. Seriously. That is all I have to say. Fuck.
And no, Harry, 15 is not too young to have a boyfriend in Israel. There's no age limit; kids can be boyfriend and girlfriend from the age of ten if they wish, but if you mean it seriously then I'd say since 7th grade, jr. high, around the age of 13-14. I don't know why I don't have a boyfriend, either. Fuck it, I don't care. It's not like I want a boyfriend. I'm happy with my girl-friends and my guy-friends and my best-opposite-sex-friend. The thing is, none of my girl-friends or guy-friends or my best-opposite-sex-friends are popular or well liked. It's not like we're classic nerds, we don't wear geeky glasses (I do wear glasses, but they're nice, kinda thin lenses, dark-red frames, rectangular. I like 'em.) and actually, a lot of kids have braces. Even the popular kids. But anyway.
You see, Harry, our classes are divided into groups: some groups are the popular kids (whom I prefer to call the snobs, but hey, everybody and his own stereotypes), there are the arses, which are basically all the macho guys who smoke and curse and don't give a fuck about school. There are the other groups – each person has his/her group of close friends, but some of us associate with other groups. For instance: I'm in the year-book group this year, last year in junior high. There are 6 kids in all; 5 of them are kids that are more popular than I am, in some ways. But it's not like I'm not known around the school – on the contrary. It seems that in 7th grade, everybody knew who I was, me and my best-opposite-sex-friend. Remember, we were boyfriend and girlfriend for like 2 weeks? And the whole school knew, and most of the school laughed and teased us; I have no idea why. Anyway, I have no idea what 'label' I'm in, but I don't really care.
Here, girlfriends are not really chosen by their inside. Mostly, they're chosen for their outsides – which I completely do not get, cos their outsides are not all that attractive, in my opinion. They wear way-too-tight pants, with all their fatty-ness hanging out, and way-too-tight shirts, with their boobs in clear view. But I suppose that's what guys like these days, ai? Pigs. Leggy blonds with more boobs than brains is what they're looking for, if you ask me. Sluts. They deserve each other.
Oh god. I've just looked up ,and I see that I've filled an entire page with my rantings about failing Math and not having a boyfriend and how men are pigs… god, I'm pathetic. But I feel better now. This was a stress reliever, I suppose. I hope you've read this far. If you have, then thank you for listening – reading, I mean. Thanks, really.
Love – if you ever need to rant, I'm here –
Rose.
~~~~~~
I'm adding this note a day after I wrote the letter, Harry, that's why it's different paper. And here's what I have to say:
I am going to hunt down my Math teacher and fuck her over. No, of course I don't mean that, but if I could, I'd beat her to a pulp. I WAS SUPPOSED TO GET FUCKING 62 ON THE FUCKING MATH TEST, YOU FUCKING PIECE OF FUCK, NOT FUCKING 52!!!!! I just got the test-paper back, and I calculated all the minuses she wrote, and I got 38. 100 – 38 = 62, not fucking 52!! I am soooo going to hang her on a tree… (don't ask. It's a saying she uses whenever we don't do homework: "I'll hang you on the highest tree I can find!"
Well, FUCK YOU, SARAH!!!! Cos you miscalculated, I got a fucking 62 ("fucking" cos it's still really fucking low), not major-fucking 52!!
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Author's Notes: once again, sorry for the delay. I used up all my anger and frustration on this letter. Hope you like it… and sorry for being so late, you have my most honest apologies.
Reviewers' response:
Fireblade K'Chona – ok, thanks, I appreciate the offer… and anyway, I'm working on another story at the moment, and a few of my friends wanted to join in, so I made them get me some good ideas… most are pretty clichéd, but I'll make them work, round the edges a bit.
melissaL – I hate ditches. Ditches are bitches. Hey, that was cute. ^_~
Sirius' Diamond – don't kill it… heh, glad you like it. I've got some temporary muses, so I should be more or less (less) ok for a bit now…
Bleeding Darknes, formerly Princess Phoenix – I see, the name change is pretty cool. I've been thinking of changing my name, too… should I? And if so, to what?
bluehoax – yep, ditches are bitches.
Riffinton – hey, long time no see. Yep, your friends need counseling. Get them a shrink. D'you want the number or mine? No, kidding. You cant reach my shrink. Muahahahaha…
Topaz Waters – yep, muses are a rare breed nowadays, aren't they? Heh. And – Harry is a softie, what can I do?
Allyrien Chantel de Montreve – hey, you're new to my fic, aren't you? Or at least, you haven't reviewed until now. Or you have, and you've changed your name. Clear this up for me, will ya? Anyway, PotC does indeed rock my … shoes. I'm dying to see Troy. Orli, Sean Bean… Brad Pitt is a snob. And Ewan McGroger? Not my type, he's all yours.
Meethrill – nah, Ron's outta the deal now.
And, last but not least, to the trio of the most hilarious, funny, weird, strange, awesome reviewers ever…
La'Jizika, Amiana, and Leana Queen – first off, hi Lea. Welcome to the madness that is fanfiction and review. As for the rest of you… *shakes head sadly* what'm I going to do with you? You truly are hilarious. I love you; every time I go online and find a new review in my inbox I'm hoping it's you… and if it is, the review is always fun to read. EAT THE PURPLE YOURSELVES!!!