The Shy Girl.

The fragile body of the girl was jerking from cries. It’s over. Everything is over. These miserable people had ruined everything. Her world was crashed in small pieces; her true self which she was forced to reveal was thrown stones at and pierced by those painful words, stabbed by this gigantic amount of critic. How could they do this to her? All these people, didn’t they felt wrong while they were doing this? Didn’t they felt guilty?

She had realized that it was her fault; she knew that she should had put the notebook away, knew that she shouldn’t had left it on her desk in the classroom, while she went to the canteen. But, it doesn’t make their fault less, they shouldn’t have touched it. She remembered returning to the classroom and seeing The Big Bad Guy reading it, laughing at it, showing it to The Nasty Boys.

Who was she to argue? She was just a mouse-type girl with huge black glasses, which contrasted with her pale skin and dark brown hair. The Shy Girl. The Shy Girl should never stand up against The Big Bad Guy and The Nasty Boys. She should obey. And she knew it, knew it very well. But deep inside she was a rebel.

She grasped the notebook from their hands, kicked one of The Nasty Boys, slapped the other one and then she leaped like a wild cat on The Big Bad Guy, making him collapse on the floor. She brought her face close to his and uttered, “I can let you shatter my confidence, but I will never let you shatter my dreams.” Then she gave him such a wild look that he thought that The Shy Girl had become The Brave One. But The Big Bad Guy was so despicable that he couldn’t miss a chance on bringing her down back to The Shy Girl position, so he grinned at her. She didn’t understand his smile; she was scared. The Big Bad Guy shook her off his body like she was a dust, annoying dust that keeps sticking to you even if you don’t want it to stick. He got back on his feet and bellowed, “Listen to me. You are nobody, all your stupid poems are just a parody. I am the boss here.” And they laughed.

The Shy Girl stared in disbelief at her classmates, the ones who she counted as friends. She gazed at their laughing faces, and then, The Shy Girl became The Clown.

She couldn’t take it anymore, so she clutched her bag, snathed the notebook and rushed off. She was hurt, but she knew that her revenge is going to be sweet. Standing there, in the corridor of her school, her mascara running, her bag dirty from kicks it had received she got her plan.

It took her three days to write her favorite poem on the wall of The Big Bad Boy’s house with his own blood.