("Never Been Kissed")
Prom: PTSD
post traumatic stress disorder
1
Hello. My name is Josie, and I suffer from post traumatic stress disorder. You know I can never say that during my "ptsd" sessions. But I guess it's so much easier to say it to you. Some of the people at that place are crazy. But I'm not anything like them. I don't think I really have a problem with anything about me, whether it is external or internal. You know? But there is one thing that I just can't figure out. Why did my classmates hate me so much? I thought I was nice. I never bothered any body. But the sharks that were my peers only saw me as succulent prey. Why? The more I think about it, the more it angers me. And the more it angers me, the more my heart is filled with rage. And the….whoops! Nosebleed.
It's been six months since my world was turned upside down because of the reoccurrence of high school. I have gained a considerable amount of weight. Some people don't even recognize me anymore. And after that amazing, life altering experience I thought I was over with high school. But little did I know that fate had a name. Ashley Miller, the head leader of the whore squad during my first years of high school, and my enemy. I saw her at Wal-Mart one afternoon. When I walked into super the center and as I grabbed my buggy, I noticed the baked goods that were lined up on the right-hand side of the entrance as if they had waited for me all day. Untouched. Unblemished. I picked up each container one by one, and began to guzzle down every sugary crumb. Collecting the empty containers so as to pay for my brunch, I smelled the bitter stench of sin clouding my surroundings. I turned to my left and I saw her. The tramp was pregnant. She didn't see me. But I watched her wobble to and fro like a penguin. She still had the same look about her as she did back in school. I positioned myself so I wouldn't be seen. I stood at the beginning of check out aisle number one pretending to read a magazine. She made eye contact with me instantly and made haste towards me in a sly manner. I tried to walk away but I turned around and body smacked the snack stand beside me." Josie Gross-….I mean Josie Gellar. What a pleasant surprise." She snorted. "Like wise Ashley. So, how are you? Bloated?" She looked at me as if she was studying my mind through my eyes. "No. Actually I feel very content. My husband is a very successful entrepreneur, and I am 8 months pregnant with his second child. But it seems to me that from our current location you're just having a ball." She grunted. "Well I am successful in my own right, Ashley. But I understand that there is no amount of success that God has given me that could ever amount to the stretch marks of family hood and body deformation that He has given you." I retorted. She looked at me with loathe. "Well Josie, it looks as if God doesn't have to help you with constant weight gain. It seems to me that you've got that part of your life perfectly and absolutely under control. Now if you asked me, and only if you asked me, I'd have to determine that most of your success derived from a pork chop eating contest that never came to be due to the pre-contest late night ramblings of a three hundred pound mastodon devouring every piece of swiney goodness." She said with haste. "Well...well...you're a...you're a bitch!" I replied. "Now hold on one second...
FREEZE