The High School Stories
Published by Ellie Grace at Smashwords
Copyright 2012 Ellie Grace
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Dedication
To Ms. Y, you have the biggest heart. I guess that’s why you give the warmest hugs. Thank you for helping me through my four years.
High School Stories
Social Suicide
My name’s Jamie Hall and I live, (or shall I say lived?), in a social suicide world. Most grownups would say they would never wanna go back to high school no matter what anyone paid them and that’s because it’s a suicide world.
Now, you’ve been sitting there asking yourself, “Is she serious? High school a suicide world?” Yes, I am serious! Let me explain.
We’ve got your jocks, the sport people, who are pretty nice ‘til you say you’re better than them in some sport. (P.S> Don’t do it.) (P.S. meaning pickles and spice.)
Then, of course, there’s the popular kids who can be nice, but don’t really mean any of it. Flash around in their high class stuff. Prance around in miniskirts that they know they’ll get in trouble for but, of course, they have no clue when they’re told something’s too short. Or the ones that wear shirts as dresses and giggle all day about how –oops- they thought it was a dress. All the while the guys just stand around and don’t say anything that’s too intelligent, but it’s not like the girls say the smartest things either. (P.S. Popular people think quantity not quality.) Which brings me to the gaggle of people that cling to them (them being the popular people. Gosh, are you following along?).
Sometimes, most of the time clingers are the ones that I’d like to slap in the face because these are mostly genuine people that just wanna feel like they mean something to someone, but they pick the wrong people. The popular people feel like you mean something when you do something for them. Not because you lie and tell them they look great. (P.S. Stop telling people they look great if they don’t).
Clingers usually get talked about when they leave the conversation that they thought they were being included in. (P.S. To the clingers, I’m gonna say it a million times but please, just be yourself).
Then there are the kids that are just sorta happy with their group but just have to deal with all the other social groups they aren’t a part of. (P.S. For this I’m very sorry, but what can I say? Humans are humans. What? Seriously? Nope, they’re aliens.) But for these kids when they see some person being teased, they just laugh. Which gives this group the name of “guilty bystanders.” I know all you guilty bystanders are thinking, “I’m innocent.”
There was nothing I could do. Plus you would have laughed if Billy Colossal was getting an atomic wedgie. And to them I say (P.S would you have thought it was funny if it was you?). I’ve proven my point you Guilty Bystanders.
Before I get into the lowest of the lows, I shall point out three other social groups.
There are the gangsters, ghetto kids. Supposedly, if you mess with them they’ll beat your bum, but I’ve never seen it done. If you’re black, and you like rock, you’re considered white, no matter how long you’re out in the sun. Also, why do they all have the guys in baggy clothes and the girls in tight crap? Like, it’s not really attractive to see butt cracks and fat rolls coming out of clothing (P.S. For all the clingers, don’t cling to them because, well, never mind. You’re probably too afraid, but if you do, tell them, when they ask you that their clothes don’t look good). Now, mind you some people do dress okay. (P.S. I bet there’s some ghetto gang that wants to beat me up, but IDC, I don’t care).
Then there’s the rock stars or wanna-bes or just fans. Most people confuse them with gothics and emos because of the similarity of music taste. Rockers wear tight pants, while Goths usually wear a lot of vampire looking stuff. (P.S. For those people that wear those big huge pants with all those strings coming down, is all that necessary?). Emo has a lot more to do with the self hurting, but they look a lot like rockers. (P.S. Go to your local Hot Topic to see what I mean). There’s nothing really that bad about rockers though, they do include skaters who do things without thinking and end up almost dying. They’re generally accepting people who stay out of the way and blend well. Although some of them try to act way hardcore and rub it in your face. (P.S. This is a classic poser act.)
Then there are the dopes and the druggies. They don’t come, whether they’re high or in some kind of rehab they usually just don’t make it to school. (P.S. Just don’t do drugs. STUPID! STUPID!)
The lowest of the low. I shouldn’t say it like that, but how else? These are the people who are misunderstood - too smart, too weird, or too ugly - or just don’t fit in anywhere. Okay, so some and most are picked on for little things they do when they mean no harm whatsoever. (P.S. If you pick your nose all the time, people aren’t gonna come up to you and give you a welcoming hand). (P.S. Some habits are better in the privacy of your home.) But there are some people who just like to be alone, but no one will just let them be. Most, if you took the time to understand, would come alive as someone who is truly amazing. (P.S. Give everyone a chance, you prejudging fools.)
So this is the caste system, social ladder of social suicide heaven.
Now for those of you who have just been offended or feel like starting an uproar…. (P.S. Shut up and sit down…Please.)
Where do I fit into this, you ask? I’m the one that heard all, saw all, and basically knows all, sorta like an omniscient narrator. I was a student at Pearson High. To answer your question before you’ve got ants in your pants, I was a social butterfly, moved through almost every group without much notice. At the moment, I am peaceful, low and gothic and I’m the girl that destroyed the social system at Pearson High.
It’s hard, when you aren’t an emperor, to destroy social statuses, but since I couldn’t become emperor, I became Class President. Who was going to vote for a girl like me? No one. So I made up a number of different people that were running for president. Like any candidate, you’ve gotta know how to appeal to your people. (P.S. I am not sure how President Bush appealed to so many people, but that’s a whole other story.) I fooled all of the social groups by acting as if I was one of them.
For the jocks and the popular kids, I was this super hot blonde girl who just wanted to cheer on the sports kids and throw parties.