NO MORE

This town. This town. Why am I back? I could have just stayed back in my studio apartment in Nashville. But I came back. And Why? Because my old High School decided to have a reunion. It’s a stupid reason to come back. Maybe I came back because I wanted to show everyone up. Say Hey look, that little nerd you picked on in English is doing better for herself then all you idiots put together. I’m a New York Times bestselling author. I have a beautiful studio apartment on the top floor. With a huge balcony that over looks the town. I eat my breakfast out on it and even write out there. I have a black cat called Salem that always greets me when I come home. I no longer have glasses, my acne cleared up and I slimed down a lot. Yes I would say I have done really well for myself.

 I stand outside the community center I realize this is stupid. The school gymnasium is under construction, that’s why it’s being held here. It looks worn. The brick, once a bright red, now faded. Ivy growing up the front and sides of the building. It looks so dull. This was a mistake. I turn to leave but the door opens and out comes Priscilla. One of my old tormenters. She is tall and slender like she was back in High School. But she is slightly hunch, like she just couldn’t bear to stand up straight anymore. Like the world has just beaten her down, maybe it as. Her face is caked with makeup in a way you can tell she was trying to hide the wrinkles and dark circles under her eyes. She wore a purple dress that was tight at the top but flairs out at the bottom. It had a sash around the middle, it was pulled extremely tight. She wore black kitten heels that were far out of date.

Her arms were around herself like she was having a one women hugging party. As she neared me she looked up and my body went stiff. As those eyes pinned me down I was no longer a women of 30, I was back to being 15. Priscilla looked me up and down. Her face turned up in disgust once she realized who I was. She looked at me like I was a piece a gum on her shoes. She made a little noise and then straighten her back. With her nose pointed in the air she continued on way to the parking lot across the street.

The anger in me started to boil inside me. She has the nerve to look at me that way. Like I was some nasty creature at the bottom of the murky lake. It made me angrier then it did back then. I wanted to take her stringy brown hair in my fist and yank it out of her head. Take her face a mush it in the stupid faded brick. I curled my fist, count to ten, 1 2 3 4…5….6….7….8…9…10. I take a deep breath and uncurl my hands. There is no need to get angry at these people any more. You are better then that and you are better then them. I walk forward and take the three steps up to the door. I can already hear the music that’s playing. I open the door and walk in. I already have a headache.

I thought this would be like the reunions you see in the movies. Bored adults standing about. Talking and trying to one up each other. But this was far from that. Almost everyone was on the dance floor. And those who weren’t were drinking and talking to loud. Some were falling over each other because they were a little more then tipsy. I find a corner far from the dance floor to stand in away from the adults who are acting like they’re still in High School. Those were the worst kind of adults. The adults who didn’t seem to know no one cares what they did in High School. If they were on the cheer squad or football team. The kind of adults who don’t realize they are past their prime.

I stand here in the corner and wonder, yet again, why I decided to come. Maybe I thought I would find some kind of closure for my High School days. Maybe to even see if anyone had grown up enough to offer an apology. But no, it seems that everyone has not grown up. They are all stuck in their teenage mind set. As I am about to get up and leave all this behind. A group of one man and two women stumble over. Each of the women are hanging off each of his arms. And I can tell that they are drunk as a skunk. The girls I don’t recognize, but Him I do, Hank Greeves.

Hank Greeves the football star and all round golden boy. But he wasn’t that golden. He wasn’t even bronzed. He was the meanest boy you could ever find. I once heard he ducked taped a boy to a tree on the side of the main highway overnight just because he wouldn’t let him cheat off his paper. The boy was so shaken up he couldn’t tell anyone who didn’t to him. It wasn’t long before him and his parents moved out of town. Thinking about that story know rises my blood pressure.

He stumbles up and says in a slurred speech. “Heeeyyy…… aren’t… you that fat nerdy chick that…… we would throw food at? Maaaaaannnnn that was soooo funny wasn’t it?” He says this while laughing a bit at the end. My hand curl into a fist and my lips go into a thin line. “No”. I say through clenched teeth. “No, It wasn’t funny.”  “ oh come oooonnnnn. It was sooo funny, don’t be a stick in the mud.” He trips at the end of his sentence and one of the girls falls. He stumbles back and let’s out a big belly laugh. That laugh makes me even more mad. I feel my whole body get hot and I can tell my face is getting red. I look down at my hands and realize that I’m shaking. I look back at Hank and he still laughing. Through his laughter he says, “ we used to call her pork rinds. Because” he couldn’t even finish his sentence he was laughing so hard.

I ran out of there as fast as I could. I ran across the street and to my car. I slam my hands on the trunk. I feel something wet run down my cheeks and realize I’m crying. I rub away the tears ruffly. No! I will not cry and be made to feel tiny anymore. I won’t let them get away with it. I refuse!

I don’t even realize I had opened my trunk until I have a tire iron in my hands. I look at it my face now void of emotion. I shut the trunk and turn back to the community center. I am done with letting them get away with this. With being horrible to everyone around them. This is the last time they do it. I hear something coming from my right. I look and see Priscilla smoking by a beat up car. They are going to pay for what they did to me and people like me. And I know exactly who I am going to start with. I slowly make my way towards her, as a mutter a small phrase. I repeat it like a chant. “ No More” No More”. I get louder as I get closer to her. “NO MORE!”. I’m running now and I lift the tire iron above my head, ready to bring it down. “NO MORE!!!!” I scream. She turns, there is a look of  horror on her face as she sees what’s coming toward her. Priscilla backs up but that’s the only thing she has time to do before I’m there. The tire iron coming down and my red tear stained face is the last thing she will ever see.