Polly
The door opened.
“…How are you?”
I hate it when people ask me how I feel. It’s not like they actually care. It’s just polite when you greet someone to ask them how they are, but honestly, dose it really make a difference if I say I’m great, or if I’m not.
“Fine” I said, my universal response, it means, I’m not good, I’m not great.
I just am.
“How have you been this past week?” she goes by the name of Grace, and the fancy certificates on the wall behind her gave her the right to poke and probe around my life- right the wrongs-set me straight.
“Things have been…meh…my dad has moved out of his room and now he sleeps in his office, two floors between them. Maybe that’ll fix it. Beau doesn’t even bother to hide himself when he’s smoking…or drinking. Mom came out of her room the other day, and he had a cigarette hanging from his mout…” Grace held her hand up and I came to a slow stop.
I shifted my weight and the plastic cover on the couch cracked; I felt exposed.
Cracked: pictures on her desk of kittens.
Cracked: Grace Mulholland Guidance Counselor.
Cracked: Tick-tock-tick.
Crack crack: lavender incense.
Crack crack: exposed- the stain on graces polyester sweater shines Napolitana.
“Well it’s all good to tell me about your family, but your actually here to talk about you…how are you? How are you feeling?”
Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls. Step right up, step right up. Come closer. You won’t believe your eyes behind closed doors. Witness something you’ve never seen before, heard before, dreamt before Polly Whittaker reveals all in the flesh’
Grace is like my personal diary, I can tell all and I can lock her up and throw away the key without a word.
“What going on with you?” everything in the room slowed down, like in the movies everything around me blurred and her speech became slurred as she tried to get through to me.
“Tellmeaboutyou? You? Whatisgoingonwithyou? Where? Wherearetheothersnow? Birdy? Vee? Henna?”
I hated Grace, I hate everything about Grace. I wanted her to go die, I hate thatshe had the right to ask me such questions and play around with me as if I was her personal own ragdoll. I hated that she has the power to choose who I was. Over who I wanted to be----
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My Works
Teen FictionA collection of my all works and musings for you to read what u fancy! This is where I put my stuff when its on hold, I'll bring it back out when I'm going to continue it but let me know if there is something you like, and if you want me to continue...
