Hey, y'all! I am so, so sorry for the week-long wait. For me, that's forever. Wow! 59 reviews! Almost 60! That's relatively impressive, but I'm sure we can all do better, right? By the time this story wraps up (only two more chapters) I would like 75 reviews before I start the sequel. That's right, y'all! There's gonna be an action-packed sequel (MUCH more action-packed than this one, I'll say) and I will post it ONLY when it get 75 reviews on this one! So if you have a keyboard, review, review, review! Anyways, I had writer's block and I kept on procrastinating while finishing the rough draft and editing it and whatnot. Don't you guys HATE writer's block? So, thanks to everyone who has reviewed, followed, and added it to their favorites page! I hope you enjoy this chapter :-)
Disclaimer: I do not own Lab Rats.
Terry Cherry Perry, mainly known as Principal Perry and sometimes T.P. or Principal P, all "whiny and childish." Outside, her mannerisms were immature and jejune*. She was known for her short patience and volatile mood-swings. She couldn't always keep up her callow and puerile attitude forever, though. She had her own dark secrets, too.
Childhood memories were forgotten; as far back as she could remember, her entire life had been set in two places very important to her: in her small home sharing the john with her mother and five cats, and the school, where she reigned as a domineering, tyrannic principal. All things that were vital to her staying happy were there: her wrestling equipment, her dingo outfits, and the jock straps. She knew that, with those to places in her silly little heart, she was happy with those.
But that was before everything—before the bionic freaks Adam, Bree, and Chase had first come to her school, before her dingoes had gotten pudding-popped and disgraced, before she was "trusted" with a very important secret that was so important she was being paid to keep it a secret!
Now what? It seemed as if everything had gone back to normal; it seemed that Adam, Bree, and Chase had settled back into a normal lifestyle; it seemed that that boy Leo Dooley was growing up (she didn't really care, did she?); it seemed that once again, she had to face her darkest thoughts. The thoughts of the truth.
She'd thought that the bionic freaks and their family, since now she was almost considered an ally, would include her more with that really cool lab and all the technology and stuff that she couldn't play with. They were the only ones that actually made her feel somewhat useful! She took her unbridled anger out on penniless, pitiful students, sure, but there was a reason for that. There was a reason for all of that.
"And you aren't a child, so STOP ACTING LIKE ONE!" It replayed itself, hour after hour, in her head.
Her mother had always put her down, always told her that she wasn't enough, wasn't a "good girl," wasn't a polite, young lady.
She had tried; really, she had! But it the end, it just wasn't satisfactory to her picky mother, was it?
Her mother had never really loved her; had always scolded her and criticized her, almost to her breaking point.
And as far as she knew, she didn't even have a breaking point. She was Terry Cherry Perry, the almost invincible principal*! She could do anything she wanted—except prove to her mother that she was a good daughter.
She got out of bed and didn't bother to try and get dressed. Her red, greasy hair was a puffy mess and her undiagnosed skin condition was getting even worse. And her weight… well, she didn't want to get into that.
One of her cats, Mr. Whiskers, hopped up onto the bed and purred. She stroked his soft fur and thought, I guess this is the only good highlight of my life. Am I really doomed to spend the rest of my time on the Earth with five cats as my only positive, bright thing in my life?
Her mother was walking up the cramped stairway, Perry could tell, because she carried a cane with two wooden, low-relief-carved snakes that curled around it, much like the caduceus, that made a loud noise whenever it was pounded on the ground. She could hear her mother a mile away with that thumping cane!
"Terry, have you made your bed?"
Perry made a noise that sounded like a wrestler doing squats mixed with a manly grunt and a lion roar. All in all, that Dooley kid would have called it a "Perry Whine."
"Yes, Mother, I've made my bed!" She hadn't really made her bed, but if she could bar the door, her mother would never know.
She backed up against the door and shouted through the heavy wood, "What do you want this time?"
Her mother banged the cane against the door. "Open up, Terry! I have important news."
Perry grumbled and muttered unpleasant things under her breath that would have curdled milk had her mother heard, but she let her mother in, if not reluctantly.
Her mother surveyed the messy room and stated, flatly, "You haven't made your bed, Terry."
Perry knew that it was best that she should not answer, and that was just what she did.
Her mother nodded, satisfactorily. "You have learned by now." She lowered her backside down on the rumpled bedcovers and with a groan, continued. "A very nice man by the name of Mr. Donald Davenport, brilliant inventor and multi-billionaire, has called me several times, complaining that you are terrorizing his lovely children, especially that sweet girl… Bree? I think that was her name… Anyhow, what have I told you about not terrorizing hapless students?"
Perry shifted uncomfortably and looked anywhere but her mother's eyes.
Her mother whacked the cane against the bedpost. "Answer me, Terry! Why are you scaring the poor students? They deserve better than your wrath!"
Perry made the "Perry Whine" again and finally caved in. "Because you always put me down and I feel that I'm never good enough and then you start yelling at me and then I feel even worse than I already did—"
Her mother cut her off impatiently. "Stop the mumbling, Terry, you know how I hate the mumbling! And stop the nonsense; honestly, I never put you down! Who was there when you lost your first bullfight? Who helped you win the pie-eating contest? Who stood up for you when you lost that bowling contest in Saratoga? Hm?" Her mother had stood up and, with each rising word, hobbled towards Perry and by the hm was in her face, yelling angrily and waving the cane around.
Perry yelled, out of patience, "Just leave me alone!"
Her mother, shocked that Perry would speak back to her, withdrew slowly. "This isn't over, Terry. I want an answer by tonight. A real answer that doesn't complain." With that, she backed out he door and harrumphed down the stairs once more.
Perry had hid behind mean and scary, tyrant-like walls her entire life, but now, all she felt were pangs of sadness. Why couldn't she be enough for her mother and be well liked by kids, if not just tolerable? The answer, she decided, would be found out when she found her security—her true security, not a façade security. And how exactly was she going to find her security? That remained, in it of itself, a mystery with the answer yet to be provided.
Yes. I know. Kinda short. I'm sorry. Perry's a shallow character, similar to Tasha and Eddy, so I wasn't quite sure what to do. I pounced on the idea of her mother putting her down (inspired by watching Tangled) and then here it is! Please review!
Footnote #1: I love the thesaurus! Don't you just love the sound of "jejune?" J-j-j-jejune. Yes, I know I'm being like Adam. I'm crazily unpredictable sometimes :-)
Footnote #2: I realized after I'd finished that this was a rhyme. Haha :-D
(I apologize for any grammatical or spelling errors.)