People have always asked me why I'm so short, or why my hair is so red, or why my face is so covered I freckles. All I want in life is to be little miss perfect just like that one girl, Meghan Stronghold. She had the perfect petite body, long, silky smooth hair in two perfect boxer braids. She was the it girl at the time. No one could be more perfectly perfect. She was even a nice person; she was the one to lead me around this whole school In the first place. She was the person I aspired to be.
"Oops... looks like I didn't see the midget on the lockers!" Martie Posted on her Instagram feed after she took a picture of me with her latte spilled all on my new chucks. I threw the empty cup at Martie's face and she looked at me with fury in their eyes. I took my books and smacked them on her bulgey muffin-top. She threw her stiletto at my nose. I could feel the blood starting to slowly trickle down my upper lip... but, I can't let her win. Not this time anyways.
I dropped my books down on the floor just as I threw a big punch into her stomach, distracting her enough so I could slip her in front of me so I could yank her ponytail as hard as I could. The crowd was starting to gather around me, screaming and chanting to fight, or where to direct my next punch. I could hear nothing. I was filled to the brim with adrenaline at this point. I'm pretty sure that martie was already passed out when I was stomping on her ugly face. All I had in my head at that point, was to make martie stevens. Suffer. Badly.
