Disney REBEL - Anthology / CLOSED

Disney Rebel by @izzywriter2

"I don't think you heard me clearly the first time," I murmured sweetly to the freshman, who, for her benefit, was holding her ground. "Back the hell off or we're gonna have issues."

The little girl blinked fiercely. She was wearing way too much eyeliner and her eyelashes were clumpy with mascara.

I hated this new generation of self-proclaimed "bad girls." Not only were they almost always terrified of fighting, but once you actually engaged them, they would immediately begin crying, go running to a teacher, or complain about a chipped nail.

My generation of "bad girls" was made of tougher stuff. A drop of daddy issues here...a pinch of self-loathing there...and you had yourself one tattooed, motorcycle-riding girl with issues for days. It was like a screwed-up fairy tale potion.

This little punk was continuing to hold her ground, despite my best intimidation efforts. I sighed, removing my sunglasses from the top of my head and handing them to Elsa, who was watching the budding fight disinterestedly.

Then, I rolled my head and drove my fist into the freshman's cheekbone.

Immediately after, I backed off momentarily, waiting for the tears to come - but none did. The little girl just clenched her jaw, squeezed her eyes shut for a couple of seconds, and, without warning, attacked me.

The freshman grabbed my hair, yanking my head back as she did so. Her concentration on doing so gave me the opening I needed: I stiffened my hand before driving it into the girl's stomach. She exhaled heavily, releasing my hair to double over and clutch her stomach.

I wasted no time in grabbing her throat and shoving her against the wall of the school, scalp still smarting from having my hair pulled. "What's your name, little girl?" I cooed, somewhat interested as to the identity of the toughest kid I had met in a while.

"Merida," the little redhead managed to choke out.

I was about to say something more when I heard a wordless shout and glanced over to find my social studies teacher jogging towards us, potbelly jiggling. Groaning, I released Merida and took a step back with my hands raised in submission.

"Both of you, principal's office, now," panted the teacher, out of breath from his short jog.

Elsa waved a solemn goodbye over the teacher's shoulder, and I resisted the urge to flip her off as she turned and strolled off. I was in enough trouble as it was.

*

"I just - I don't know how to make you stop, Ella," my stepmother, Evie, told me wearily as we climbed into her minivan.

I just chewed on my lip, sullenly crossing my arms and staring out of the passenger window. I could feel the curious gazes of my two bratty stepsisters in the backseat, staring at both Evie and me.

"You're getting grounded again, that's for sure," Evie continued, her words tight with frustration.

"Of course I am," I muttered.

"What?"

I didn't even bother repeating myself, instead continuing to stare sullenly out of the window as Evie sighed and began to drive us home.

Once we had arrived, I immediately made for the staircase, attempting to escape to my room

"Oh, I don't think so, girlie," Evie growled. She grabbed my wrist, squeezing just tight enough to make me wince, and shoved a piece of paper into my hands. "I want every chore on that list completed before dinner. Do you understand me?"

I nodded jerkily, fury bubbling within me. As Evie turned away, I finally snapped.

"They don't have to do any chores."