A Boy and His Guitar

Clarity laughed bitterly at Niall.

"Back to America where I belong? That's not where I belong, 'cuz I don't belong anywhere!" Clarity threw her hands up in frustration. "Too fat, ugly! Manipulative bitch! You think that's where I belong, Niall? I've moved five times in the last three years! So maybe you should do some research before..." Clarity whipped the corners of her eyes "... You go around accusing people of other stuff!"

Clarity pushed past Niall, and back into her home. She left Niall standing in the meadow, in twilight (in the dark).

"Are you okay, honey," Clarity's mom asked when she slammed the front door closed. Clarity ran up the stairs, two at a time.

"No, Mom! I'm not! Everywhere I go, I'm hated! So just leave me alone!" Clarity cried.

She slammed the door to her room and shut the door. She locked it. Then she went over to the window where she had first seen Niall in the meadow and closed it, shutting the curtains.

"Scum-bag, Slut, bitch, attention seeker," Clarity listed the things she'd been called in America. "Weirdo, geek, freak."

"Mentalist, Mental, Idiot," she said and wrote the things down on a lined piece of paper. "Horrible, ugly, fat, overweight."

That night Clarity cried herself to sleep, on the hardwood floor. She clutched the paper with the negative traits to her chest, sobbing. She repeated everything that had happened to her in her head.

Being pushed into lockers, being stepped on, beaten up...

The list went on and on.

Notes