From Riches To Rags I remember when I was a little girl, I had this tea set that my father had bought for me for my fifth birthday. I would play with it for hours, pretending that I was the hostess to famous actors and actresses. Everything was so simple back then, I had no worries, it didn't matter if I had friends or not. My parent's did everything in their power to block out all of the bad things that were happening in the world. they didn't want one ounce of sadness in my life. And honestly, I don't ever remember a time not being happy, and not having what I always wanted. My mother was a legal attorney who almost never lost a case, and my dad, he was the most respected plastic surgeon in the country. To most people I'm sure it looked like we had the perfect family. I won't deny it, we did, we all loved each other very much. I know my father would do anything for my mother. His main goal in life was to keep her happy. My father would buy my mother anything she wanted, clothes, jewlery, expensive trips to the Carribean Beaches. There was never a moment that my mother wasn't buying this, or spending thousands on this dress, or the "In Fashions". I had a very close relationship with my dad. I was his "Little Princess" and he would gloat about me to all of his doctor friends, as my Mother used to call them. I won't deny that I was proud of having a father like the one that I had. Most kids weren't so lucky to have what I had, and still do, and for that I'm greatful. However when I turned sixteen my life had a sudden change of events. Now that I look back on it, I think of it as the turning point in my life where I was not only introduced into the world but thrown into it head first. * * * * School was a hell hole for me. No one liked me, I was considered the "Rich Snobby Girl" If only they would have taken time out to get to know me, then they would have known that there was more to me than just money and a big house. I was pretty much tortured in school. I never once mentioned it to my father or my mother. I didn't need the added drama and pressure in my life. Don't get me wrong I had friends, if that's what you want to call them. they were the girls that hung out with me, to get juicy gossip on me to report back to everyone and make my life a living hell all over again. I was treated like a leper in school. No one wanted to talk to me, walk by me, sit by me or even take a paper off of me that I had to hand back to them. It hurt me so much to be sitting in lunch, alone, with no one to laugh with and tell secrets with. I hated it, I felt the stares on me, I felt them pointing at me and laughing at me. It got so bad, the taunting, the teasing, that I started planning out how to get those back who kept hurting me. The main leader in the war against me was Shelly. I know she hated me, and I was glad. I knew that she was jealous of me, and I was proud of it. Shelly had a group of friends whom she got together just to pick on me. I remember one time when we came back from Christmas Vacation, I went to my locker to get my books. When I opened my locker the foulest stench filled the halls. There was a dead cat, managled and covered with maggots laying right on top of my books. Later I would find out that it was in my locked the entrie time we were on Christmas Vacation. I kept my composure and made sure not to show how hurt I was in front of Shelly and her clan. I knew that she'd get pleasure out of that, and I didn't want her to know that she was suceeding in hurting me. * * * * One situation sticks out in my mind. It was close to the end of the year. Everyone was excited about the summer and their vacations, camps and family outings. I was sitting in lunch alone as usual, thinking of ways to get back at Shelly and her group of idiots. As I was doodling, and feeling sorry for myself, Shelly approached my table. "Looks like Little Miss Priss is all alone again" snearned Shelly I didn't say anything, I looked at her with the same smile I always had. That smile that made it look like I didn't care, that she wasn't bothering me. She started at me, with a plastic smile smeared across her face. "I bet you're daddy wouldn't like to see his pride and joy sitting all alone, now would he?" Shelly laughed. I felt like something was wrong... I looked around the cafeteria and noticed all all were on me. I felt like I was in a examination room. That's when I got the feeling that Shelly was about to do or say something that would send me over the edge. "So I hear you and you're daddy are really close isn't that right?" "So close that sometimes, you sleep in the same bed?" laughed Shelly. My throat tighetened, what was she implying? I hadn't slept in the same bed as my parents since I was a little girl. I answered horsely "I...I...I Don't Know what you mean by that" "Oh you know... it seems you're secret is out, so where does you're daddy touch you eh? You like it don't you?" Shelly said Tauntling. I was taken aback what was she implying? That I slept with my father, sexually? I really don't know what happened next it's all a blur to me. I was later told by the nurse what had happened. I had lunged towards Shelly knocking her to the ground and repeatdly hitting her. Other students and her friends tried to pull me off but it was like I was in a daze. One of the bigger Senior Girls finally pulled me off of Shell and I ran screaming bloody murder from the cafeteria. They found me in the bathroom passed out on the floor. The principal called my mother and had her come get me from school. I couldn't tell my mother what they were saying at school, I was just too ashamed. I didn't want her to think that it was my fault, that I was bringing the taunting on myself. It wasn't true, I tried, I tried so hard to make people like me, to make them accept me. I never made anyone feel like they were less than me. From that day on, I began to plot, plot my revenge on all those who had hurt me, who had made me feel filthy and disgusting, and not good enough to be on this earth. I wanted them all to hurt like I was hurting, to experience what true lonliness felt like. * * * * I didn't return to school for a week, and when I did return I could feel the eyes on me, hear the giggles, and just smell the tension in the air. I went to homeroom like everyday, sat in my chair, struggled to keep the tears in, as the paper balls, and comments were thrown at me like daggers. To hurt me, to bring me down, and make me want to rip my hair out. I noticed today that everyone seemed to keep all of their attention on me. Were they trying to send me over the edge? Pushing me, willing me, begging me to snap? I wanted to laugh at them all, laugh right in their pretty little faces, and scream at the top of my lungs, YOU'LL ALL GET WHAT YOU DESERVE, EACH AND EVERYONE OF YOU." I walked quietly, almost ghost like down the hall, turning into the parking lot and walking straight towards my E Class Mercedes. Opening the passenger side door, I retrieved the shot gun that was neatly and strategically placed undernearth the passenger side seat. I had taken the gun from my fathers gun collection in the basement. I knew the combination because I was always taught what to do if someone ever robbed or tried to break into our home. I looked at my watch, I had only 5 minutes until the cafeteria would be emptied. I crept along the side of the cafeteria building and slid in the Cafeteria workers lunch area. Everyone was still working as I had figured, and I krept to the doors that lead to the cafeteria. A flurry of feelings were swirling around inside me. Panic, Fear, Pleasure, Failure, Accomplishment. I stepped thru the doors, and for a moment my eyes searched the crowd. Searched for Shelly and her clan. I found her.... I don't know how I did it, but I screamed her name and began shooting. I remember seeing the fear in Shelly's eyes and smiling about it. The cafeteria was in chaos. People were running hiding, trying to get away from my bullets. "RUN!!" I screamed, "HIDE!!", "HURT LIKE YOU'VE HURT ME!!!" I sprayed the crowd, hitting some I didn't intend on hitting. Knocking Shelly and her friends to the ground, right where they had knocked me so many times. After I had used all the bullets in the gun I stood there, in awe at what I had just done. Mr Macaffrey threw me to the ground while other teachers standing by retrieved the shot gun. I'm not sure who I had all taken down with the shotgun, but I was told that I had killed Shelly and her friends. That was satisfaction to me, but I was ashamed. Ashamed that I had stooped to their level. But it felt good, I was finally free of all the hurt and anger and torture that those girls put me through day in and day out. * * * * I didn't willingly want to write about the events that lead up to that day, but my only way to cope while awaiting my sentencing is to write. Write and convince myself that "I" was the victim. "I" was the one sent over the edge by those girls, and they needed to pay for what they did to me. And they did. I'm terrified of going in the court room, and facing those crowds of people who hate me, hate me for taking their children away from them. And then that's when I've realized that I've not gotten away from the hurt, hate and torture, that I've just made my own personal hell, made my own bed and for that I must lie in it.
Copyright © 2003 Nicole Mowery |