Hey! I'm trying to actually write from now on! Whooptie-doo for me an' you. So, I'd appreciate reviews to give me confidence and keep me on track. Criticism is also always helpful. I recently noticed that people always (usually) put this disclaimer thing in, so I think I should do it to 'cause giving into peer pressure is good for our souls. OK. Here it is.
Disclaimer: I don't own beyblade or Oreos. The only characters in this story I own are the ones that I made up. That's all I can think of for now. Bye.
The Random Nonsense of Rain Kisuki
Chapter 6: I Broke the Principal! Therapy Begins
I love art. I get to play…with clay. Heh. That rhymed. It just so happens that today in art class we have a special assignment, which sadly doesn't involve clay.
'Cause it's our first class of the year, Mr. Valen decided he should get to know us. Now, if this were any other teacher, I would've told him to screw off and mind his own F-in business. But this isn't any other teacher. It's Mr. Valen. And Mr. Valen is the sh*t. He's cool. He lets us get away with lots of things, and can take a joke. If he were the Principal, I might come to school more often.
So, back to the assignment. We have a piece of good, sturdy paper in front of us. We could use any coloring/shading utensils we wanted. We have to draw what we were thinking about before we went to bed last night.
Another awesome point about Mr. Valen is that if it was something we drew seriously, and put our best effort into, then it was art. He says heart is just another word for art. The "he" was just there so "art" could show up twice in the dictionary. Weird, but kind cool.
So, I am expecting lots of perverted drawings to be made, because it was right before bed. I, myself, was thinking about chainsaws, guns, candy, cake, and chocolate. I drew hundreds of them on that one page. It looked like those iSpy books. I happen to be freakin' great at drawing, so everything looked amazing.
Mr. Valen smiled and laughed when he saw mine. It was random, fun, and scary. It was practically like opening up my head and looking inside to see what was rattling around on the cluttered floors of my head-bedroom.
It just so happens that five minutes before class was over, the V.P. barged in and demanded I go to Principal's office for a warning lecture. I'd thrown a fit, cause I had been havin' a helluva good time drawing. When she saw my "art", she decided I was disturbed and that was being inappropriate by threatening others with the guns and chainsaws and whatnot.
So, now I have to repaint the art room after school tomorrow as detention. Mr. Valen had an art club, and the members draw paintings on the wall every year. As a result, the beginning-of-year punishment list started with painting the wall here white. However, even though this was still a punishment, the art club died out last year. So the walls might be white all year. Kinda depressing.
I also am going to start weekly therapy sessions today to discuss my issues. Yes. Apparently I have issues. Now I'm on my way to the principal's office, escorted by the V.P.. I remember in elementary school, when we were learning to spell simple words. The said we could remember how to spell principal easily, cause the principal was our pal. I always thought it was stupid, but it did help lots of kids. I trudged into the main office and the secretary sighed when she saw me.
"What's up, Louise? How was your summer?" I asked her familiarly.
"It was horrible," she sighed, pushing back bits of her puffy, brown hair that escaped a bun. "I got married."
"Oh. I'm sorry." Louise Vivi was an independent woman. She wasn't the type to get married. "But…why?"
"I got drunk in Vegas and married a plumber. Oh, and I didn't get the jackpot on the slot machine."
"I hear plumbers make lots of dough. It's a shame about the slots," I sympathized.
"He doesn't know English or Japanese."
"…Oh. Well, it's hard to fight with someone you can't speak to."
"He can't read the divorce papers, so he won't sign them," she sighed.
"Well, I say you get him a language tutor and spend his money before he can understand what your doing." She laughed.
"Good plan, but I think I'll hire a translator using his money. Then we can get out of each other's life. So, what are you in trouble for?"
"Either baseball in the lobby, hitting the V.P. with the baseball, skipping school, skipping first period and homeroom, b*tching off at the V.P. on multiple occasions, or drawing disturbing and threatening pictures. Maybe all of them. The possibilities are endless!" I chirped.
The V.P. this year is new. I knew the old dean very well, which is probably why he is in intense therapy at an insane asylum.
I was also close to the principal. And the janitor, Jim, and me chat almost every night on AIM. His second closet (the one that he never used) had become my prank storage. He never ratted on me. But I had to clean up every prank I made for him in return. The principal was fed up with me, and honestly, after he made me help the lunch ladies as a punishment, I became fed up with him. He was just about to break, and I doubt that changed over summer.
"The principal is coming in late today because of a meeting. I'd let you in, but he's the only one with a key. He change the lock after Tala let rats loose in there last year," explained Louise. I only nodded in reply At least he thought he was the only one with a key. Heh. I smirked. I left him a present in there, to help him relax like it was still vacation. I didn't even have to wipe my fingerprints or wear gloves for this prank. The principal opened the door, looked at me, sighed, and closed the door behind him. Damn. Why is everyone sighing today?
"What is it this time?" questioned the principal, Mr. Dickenson.
"I'll explain in a minute. I was waiting 'til you got here so you wouldn't think I ditched. I'll be right back. I gotta piss real bad," I ran off, slamming the door behind me. I walked pass the door's window and made some quick footstep sounds, to make it seem like I left. I peeked into the window. I winced, hearing someone walk around the corner.
"You? What are you doing?" That voice! It was Kai. I put a finger to my lips and shhhed him. He did seem like the type to rat on someone. I gestured for him to come over.
"What? The principal's just unlocking the door to his…office," he smirked and looked over at me, catching on quickly, "What did you do to his office?"
"You sure ask a lot of questions. Just watch," I said, pulling out my camera, turning off the flash, and preparing to take lots of pictures.
Bryan's dad was in the military, and his mom was a wanted felon, hiding out in God only knows what country. Therefore he lived by himself. His house held all of our weaponry and prank and spying equipment. It also held our treasured 10 prank scrapbooks. We only have three pages left in the tenth one, so we are going to buy a new one soon. Every page in the scrapbook was dated and had details of the prank, spying, or stalking session (Tala is usually the stalker.). The pages were also decorated with my kick-arse photography and tasteful designing and placement.
I was bouncing on my feet, anticipating. He turned the doorknob and opened the door in a swift movement, thinking it was safe now that he had a new lock. Snap. I took a picture. Water that reached four and a half feet in his closed office rushed out.
Louise jumped onto her desk just in time. I snapped a picture of her. I quickly returned my focus to the principal, and snapped a few pictures of his drenched self. I zoomed in on his face. First he was surprised. Snap. Then he was confused. Snap. Then he was horrified. Snap. And last, he was pissed. Snap. Snap. Snap. He gave so many perfect expressions, it was like he knew I was taking pictures and was posing.
He looks like a big cherry with a hat on, round and red. He had steam coming out of his ears. He started blubbering gibberish and smashing things. Louise called the police and an ambulance, explained the situation, hung up, and looked up from the phone just in time to see the old fart faint. I snapped a picture, Kai and me struggling to hold back laughter when he actually bounced. I just have to include that in the details. I heard sirens.
"Follow me, we can hide in my closet!" I said, ushering Kai down the hallway and stopped in front of a door.
"Your closet?" he raised an eyebrow.
"No one outside of my group and Jim know about it, so keep quiet." I pulled a ring of keys out of my pocket. Each had a label on tape on it. I turned a key in the door, went inside, and yanked Kai in with me. I shut and locked the door. I had a wheely chair I stole from the old dean, and a stool set up. There was all my prank stuff, along with a radio, a calendar, a small table, and some soda cans beside various forms of artery-clogging junk food. It was cramped, but the closet was quite big as far as janitor closets go.
"Nice closet," he said sarcastically. I heard police walking around, investigation, talking. I put the keys on the table and grabbed a pack of Oreos, stuffing my face to pass the time. I looked from Kai to my cookies and back again. I sighed reluctantly.
"Cookie?" I offered, holding the pack out to him. He chuckled, taking a cookie from the box.
We grew deathly quiet when we heard a policeman suggest that if it was a prank, which they thought was likely because my group attended this school, then it was likely the prankster (that's me) is nearby. They began opening doors. I'd locked this one, but they could probably get in anyway.
I opened an air vent and piled my prank supplies, snacks, calendar, and drinks in. I left the radio since it had been here when I first came. I was kind of surprised I had fit all my stuff in the vent. It had worked quite nicely. I picked the keys up and stuffed them in my pocket. I unlocked the door, so we would seem less suspicious.
"Now what?" I mouthed at Kai, "What's our excuse?"
"What do teenage boys usually do with girls in a closet that isn't uncommon?" asked Kai, thinking I was quite stupid.
"Make out," I replied…Oh! "You're not suggesting we make out so we don't look suspicious! I don't want to get caught, but I don't wanna seem like a slut either!" I hissed. I hardly know this guy! How could he suggest something like that? But…between you and me, I wouldn't die if I had to kiss the hottest guy I've ever seen. In fact, I might even prefer it to juvie. I blushed. The footsteps stopped again.
"What's in here?" a policeman asked Louise.
"Just an unused janitor closet," she replied.
"Perfect hiding place for a prankster!" Crap.
"Well?" persisted Kai. I nodded numbly. He stepped closer to me and put his right hand just under my shirt, resting on my hip. He pushed me up against the wall and placed his left hand on the wall next I was pushed against, a half foot away from my head.
He leaned forward and pressed his lips against mine, sending a jolt down my spine, his arm now bent so he could be closer to me. His hand moved up and rested on my mid-back and pulled me a little away from the wall. He put his left hand on the back of my neck and deepened the kiss into a French one, forcing me to bend backward a little, as I was overpowered.
I opened my eyes, which I hadn't realized were closed, and latched my right hand into his silky hair, pulling him closer. I ignored the sound of the doorknob turning. Kai began planting butterfly kisses on the side of my neck that wasn't occupied by his hand. I giggled when he reached a ticklish spot. The door opened quickly at that. I heard a gun clank as it fell on the ground. Kai pulled me closer to him, protectively.
They'd think we were dating and would just rule us off as innocent. Well, technically Kai was…whatever! He was an accessory to the crime, or something like that.
"Oh," said a flustered policeman, "I didn't mean to…S-sorry!" He tried to close the door, but Louise stopped him.
"What do you think you're doing, Rain!? I thought you had been the one to flood the office. I could take that. But this is too much! You aren't some easy slut! Why are you in a closet making out with some bad boy!?" ranted Louise. She was pissed.
"Well," said Kai sarcastically, "I thought we wouldn't be interrupted if we weren't in a hallway. You can see how well that worked out." This guy is a natural born-liar, isn't he? And so, I lost my first kiss to the hottest guy ever, who wasn't that bad of a person. I never got caught for the prank. And I attended my first ever therapy session.
/This Evening/
"And how does that make you feel?" asked a balding, white-haired man with glasses. He was dressed in a suit and was sitting in a chair, notepad and pen in hand, looking at me where I lay on one of those sofa-like bed things. The ones you see people on during therapy in TV shows.
"I dunno. I guess happy. I get enjoyment from a lot of other people's pain. The Vice Principal is no exception. It's not as if she's ever going to have kids Besides, Tala's right. She'll never get a guy if she don' lay off the cheese doodles. And I just don't think that'll happen." I replied.
"You get enjoyment from other people's pain?" he asked, frowning. I nodded in response. "And why do you think you feel that way? Did anything happen, perhaps in your childhood, that would make you want others to hurt?"
"I just don't know Doc. I have issues, remember? I don't know which ones are worth discussing, so I'm discussing 'em all. And let me tell you, there's a sh*tload of them. If we wanna get through them all, once a week isn't gonna cut it." He sighed. He was getting a little stressed
"What do you think your worst issue is?" he asked calmly.
"Probly my temper. That's the one I hear about most. Oh wait, maybe I'm thinking of my no-self-control issue. Or violence issue. Or maybe my attention issue. Huh? I don't even know!"
"Maybe once a week isn't enough...Maybe you're under stress. Do you do any sports? They're great outlets for anger and frustration," said my new school-provided therapist, John.
"Oh yeah! I do a helluva a lot of sports. I play soccer, baseball, basketball, or football everyday with the guys. We rotate between them. Not to mention, I get a lot of exercise beating up nerds and such!" He sighed again. "Hey Doc, you've been sighing a lot. A lot of people have been sighing today. Maybe it's you who's under a lot of stress. Do ya wanna talk? What's up?"
"Well," he sighed, "Lately my wife and I have been having arguments about our dog, Muffy…"
And this is how I began my first day in therapy: still full of issues, and now helping a therapist with his. Rain –a heap of walking issues- out!