She ordered cheese sticks for lunch. She washed them down with cold gas station coffee. Most days like today, Spencer would eat her lunch in the art room where she would work on her latest project. This just so happened to be a charcoal drawing, a gargoyle which was perched on a Gothic Cathedral in Paris. Gargoyles were one of her favorite things because they were representations of a kind of safety from the evils of the world. Gargoyles are thought to protect churches from Satan and his minions. Spencer had often wondered if anyone was protecting her from the evils of the world. There were days that it seemed unlikely. Being alone made her feel very unsafe but she had a secret, she had a gun hidden under the bed. It was one she found when putting around in her dad's old storage unit. It wasn't like she had stolen it. Her dad told her she could have anything she wanted, having presumably forgotten about the gun and the bullets that were left in the storage unit. Either that or he thought she would be more interested in his old comic books or his old tie dye bean bag chair or his Simpson’s memorabilia, but as usual, he was wrong. Her father was wrong about so many things including global warming, the state of current affairs, and the postal abbreviation for the state in which they lived as well as many other things.
It wasn’t surprising to her that the man at school who held her heart didn’t know she existed. That was always the main takeaway from the long days of school. When she got home she would sometimes sit next to her bed and scribble in purple ink.
April 19, 2017.
Dear Diary,
Today, I took a big risk and it backfired. I tried to talk to Trent. I was outside smoking before school started, and he pulled up in his car. It’s so pretty. It's a brand-new BMW in black. I said “Hello!” in the awkward way that I sometimes do. He smiled back at me. I was so distracted that I almost burned myself with a cigarette. I was about to offer him one, but then Britney came up, leaned against the car and started talking to him about teaching her how to drive Saturday night. I know she really doesn't care about him. She just wants him because she knows I do. I'm sure I would be a better girlfriend than her; she just uses guys to get nice things. On Saint Patrick’s Day, she was doing that football player. He had connections and knew where to get beer. After she got a couple six packs, she dumped him. She told everyone about it, too. I think that's why she asked him. I had told the art teacher the other day that I was planning to ask him to teach me how to drive. I did also have a fantasy where we like pull over and make out in the car, but that's all because I don't know what comes after that, but I'm sure she does.
Britney. The mere mention of that name made anger well up inside her. She punched the mirror in her bathroom harder than she intended. The broken glass shattered all over the floor and droplets of warm blood, the color of roses, fell to the floor as she swept up the remnants of the rage. In that moment, nothing mattered. Somehow the droplets of blood made her feel powerful. It’s weird how things like that can affect someone's mind, but she didn't care. The pain followed by the sudden rush of dopamine made her feel high and invincible. She stared at her hand for a minute, giggled and carefully licked the ruby colored droplets from the wound.
All those hours she spent watching Criminal Minds and cop shows made sense to her. She cared very little and very little concern was given to her. She didn't have any friends. Her dad sent her money so she wouldn't go hungry and wouldn’t have to spend all day in the dark.
Last, she knew her mother was trying to make it big in Vegas, dancing at one of the many parts of the Playboy Bunny franchise. She used to send her birthday cards, always a month too early, but at least she made efforts. She had, however, promised to be at her graduation. She would have two years to plan after all.
The nail in the coffin was Britney taking everything she cared about. If she got a B on the Spanish test Britney had to get an A. When Spencer’s beloved hamster “Frosty” died, she decided to bury his tiny body in the yard. The teen placed her animal friend in a Nike shoe box adorned in permanent marker with a Gothic crucifix and began to dig a hole. The tears of young girl’s eyes made it difficult to be able to see as she dug the hole safely. She placed the shoebox in the ground gingerly and wiped the mucus from under her nose. She didn't consider that this was the end of the school day for the children who decided to go to school that Wednesday. Then her nemesis Britney would cross her path as she was burying her pet. She didn't understand that he was so special. Britney was just mean for the sake of being mean. Spencer was an easy target, and Britney masked her insecurities by being mean to her. She stopped on the side of the road and saw what Spencer was doing. Instead of giving her condolences on this very somber occasion, Britney kicked the makeshift coffin into the road, sending the hamster’s corpse along with it in time for a large truck to come by and destroy the tiny animal. Spencer didn't want to give Britney the satisfaction of crying, but she couldn't hold back the emotion. Britney laughed as she watched Spencer’s tears fall and her face turn red.
“Stop crying baby, you’re just pissed ‘cuz your daddy doesn't love you'” was all Britney said, and she turned away. Spencer picked a rock off the ground and pitched it in Britney's direction. She frowned with the realization that she missed her target. Spencer was in no way oblivious to the fact that she should be glad that she missed her intended target. Tomorrow at school, she would tell everyone how mean Spencer was to her, how she threw a rock at her for no reason, and she would attempt to get sympathy from all the teachers, and more importantly, almost every kid. No one cared how often this took place. Why would they? Britney’s family had money, and she looked cute in her cheerleading uniform. Spencer was neither of those things. The next morning, while most kids were screwing around to get their homework done and texting their friends about the latest episode of some crappy show on MTV, Spencer began planning her attack. She knew she was a pretty good shot, all the time she would spend in the woods knocking empty Coke cans off fence posts proved that; she hadn’t missed one.
