So NOT a Conformist

Because Of My Stupid Little Game

Out of all the times Ive ever worn pink. All the times Ive ever listened to *shudder* one direction. All the times Ive ever pretended. For once in my life, I was doing it for a good reason.
The past few weeks, not one of the Goth kids, attempted to confront me about my sudden change in personality. And that was good. Slightly upsetting. But good. I mean, I wanted to believe theyd cared enough to at least ask, but it was perfect that they didnt.
I'd been spending the past few weeks with Wendy. Becoming her closest friend. Learning everything there was to know about her. I watched her so closely. I knew her favorite brand of lotion; Bath&Bodywork. Her favorite song; Premadonna girl. Her favorite color; yellow. I knew her favorite subject; Science.
I knew what she hated too. She hated rock music. She hated the color red (unless it was lipstick). She hated pizza (and she called ME a freak). She hated dogs. She hated potato chips. She hated the smell of pine. But most of all, she hated her relationship.
Wendy made, ruining her so simple. She handed all the information to me, on a silver platter. Glazed in Caramel. Topped with a mother fucking cherry.
And what made it even better, is she totally trusted me with all her secrets. Like, she had a boob job. She's totally jealous of everything Bebe. Her hair is naturally frizzy. Sometimes she goes to bed with her old stuffed toys. She says she has to at least once a week or, they'll get lonely and feel abandoned, and try to kill her in her sleep.
The only tho that sucked, is that I had no one to give any of this info to. I didnt have any friends left. But on the plus side, I almost never thought about Michael anymore. Im always so focused on my plan, that I never really get the time to.
Another thing, Eric's friends, started making odd gestures towards me. Like, theyd wave at the bus stop, or smile at me during lunch. Kenny more than the others. And when they did, I was kinda super shocked and could only nod awkwardly.

It was a Monday morning and I was gathering the things I needed for the day. When my cell buzzed. I grabbed it and read a text from an unknown number.

#: South Park Elm. Playground. 6:30 P.M. sharp. Dont be late.

Me: um... who's this?

#: South Park Elm. Playground. 6:30 P.M. sharp. Don't be late.

Me: okay?

I got no response after that, so while gathering my stuff, I decided to pack a can of pepper spray. Incase it was some creep.
I wondered briefly if I was actually dumb enough to go. After I realized I was. I let it go, and lit a cigarette before heading out the door. I met Wendy in the bus and pretended to Listen as she went on about how Stan and her went on the "The most totally horrible date in the history of sucky cheap lame dates".
As we pulled u poo to the school, I saw Henrietta wrapped up in Michaels arms sobbing. Pete and Fickle were both no where to be seen, and I was worried.
When I walked from the bus to the door, we passed them, while doing so Henri glared daggers into my skull, and michael looked me in the eyes briefly before turning away. His eyes held pain, and not a heart broken pain, or a lonely pain, or a injury pain. It was a mourning pain. The pain of loss. The kind of pain you feel when your entire world falls to pieces and there's not a damn thing you can do to fix it. It scared me.
I planned on going over to see what was going on. Until I saw that pain, and I panicked. I just kept walking. I was a coward. And I just kept walking.

I went to my locker and opened it to find it flooded with notes. The notes spilled everywhere. They scattered across the tiles, and I quickly swept them into my bag, trying to grab them all before anyone else had the chance to snatch them. I zipped my bag and shut my locker. I took my bag with me to homeroom.
When I entered the class, there were only a few students sat there. The teacher was perched on his chair staring blankly at the wall. I crossed over to the back of the room, finding a seat in a secluded area. I had a feeling the notes were from the same mysterious texter. And just like when I'd recieved the texts, I got an uneasy feeling in the pit of my stomach.
I unzipped my bag, and pulled a handful on the notes out and began unfolding the first.

Your fault.

Was all it said. I opened a second.

Your fault.

I opened the others. The alk had the same words, written in a shitty hand.

Your fault.

Okay, now I was freaked out. I didnt understand what was going on. What was my fault? Who sent these? Did it have anything to d ok with why Henri was crying? Or why Pete and Firk weren't there?
These were questions I hoped would be answered at 6:30. I needed to know. I was scared. Worried.
After homeroom, I skipped first period and went to wash up in the bathroom. I walked into an empty stall, and dropped my jaw.
In huge, bold, black letters, along the backside of the stall was another message;

SADIE CARTMAN IS A MURDERER!!!!

What?!?! What did this even mean? I've never hurt anyone! Not seriously, anyways. Whoever was harassing me, was probably, just some joker, who thinks she's funny.
Either way, I was determined. I may not be a murderer now, but I will be. Tonight, at 6:30 sharp.

After school, I paced around the garage for hours. I was so nervous. Who was I really going to meet there? Should I really be as terrified as i am? Or is it someone trying to play a joke on me? I guess I'd have to find out.

I made my way through the gates of South Park Elm. And crossed over to the playground. It was 6:28. No one was around. Sob I sat on a lonely swing and waited patiently for my harasser. I could feel a bubble of fear in my stomach. It swelled with every second that passed by. There was someone who obviously wasn't very don of me, and I was about to come face to face with them.
I looked at my phone, and watched the 30 switch to a 31, just as I felt a hand press to my shoulder.
I screamed and jumped up, to see my mysterious texter. Pete.

"You killed him Sadie." He spoke calmly. His piercing eyes, drilling holes into my own.
"What? Who? What?" I asked breathlessly and confused. I didnt do anything, and u wanted to know what I was being accused of.
"Sadie. Someone has been killed. The death certificate claims it was suicide. But we both know that's not true. This is all your fault. We both know it." His voice stayed calm throughout everything. Monotone. Emotionless.
"What do bbc.co you mean Pete, who? Who killed themselves?" I tried to think of whi he could be talking about. But my mind was so hazed. I couldn't focus long enough to even remember Pete's last name.
"Because of your little game Sadie. Because you showed up. And you got close to us all. And then left. Is that why you've befriended Wendy? Are you going to do the same to her? Just leave her. Outvof no where?" He asked. I tried to answer. But I couldn't.
He was right. I'd just left them. I realized, nobody had actually died. It was a metaphor. I killed him. Left him alone. And he resented me for it. "I-im sorry Pete. I didnt mean ti hurt you..." I whispered. Tears slowly flowed from my eyes, and down my cheeks.
"Sorry? How stupid are you? Sorry wont change whatbhe did. It wont makebit better. Sorry wont pull the bleach from Firkles cold dead lips..." he spat the words. Losing his calm. Forcing them. Branding the syllables into my brain.
Then it clicked. There was no metaphor. Firkle was dead. Because of me.

______________________________________

Sorry for taking absolutely forever to update. Rough times at home. Dont worry though.

This chapter was hard to write. Its always hard for an author to kill an innocent character. I hope you forgive me for taking little Firkles life.

I live you all. Follow. Vote. Comment. And thanks for reading ♥♡♥♡♥♡♥♡♥♡♥♡♥♡♥♡♥♡♥♡♥♡