Behind Every Mean Girl... There’S a Tragedy

By Hermione Daguin

The average human being spends every second of his day fighting against the force of nature to see another day. But Im different. Im not afraid of outside forces to take my life away only myself. Approximatively 10 years ago, something happened to me. Something really bad. But Im not allowed to talk about it. As a way to release my frustration, I give hell to my body and everyone I come in contact with especially my parents. No one knows about what happened except the ones who did itand Him. But he didnt stay. Now, hes back and hes not talking either. I want to stop hurting, I need to stop. Make me stop.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: May 18, 2015
• ISBN: 9781503570658

Hermione Daguin

Hermione Daguin is an 18-year-old who has recently graduated from high school and is now attending college to pursue a degree in biology. Her primary goal is to become an obstetrician-gynecologist but she also has in her plan to obtain a minor in creative writing. She is originally from the small Caribbean island, Haiti, and moved to Florida in 2010.

Book preview

Behind every mean girl…

There’s a tragedy

Hermione Daguin

Copyright © 2015 by Hermione Daguin.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Thinkstock are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Thinkstock.

Rev. date: 05/14/2015

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Contents

Him

And Him

I hate family dinners

Can you hear us?

Get away from me

Don’t mess with me

Mother-daughter talk

Protective Voices

Liar, liar

Party for memories

Daddy’s little girl

Gone Jenny

Please, shut up

Persona non grata

Mind your own business

It’s time

Et tu Brute

The perks of silence

Friends for never

We’re breaking out of the cage

By myself

Unwanted

Here to help

Sweet escape

At last

Give all my secrets away

Parenting done wrong

Long overdue

Blood versus moral

Paying amends

We meet again

Him

To live or not to live. That’s the motto I live by on a daily basis. The average human being spends every second of his day fighting against the force of nature to see another day. But I’m different. I’m not afraid of outside forces to take my life away – only myself.

You know that shy nerdy girl who sits at the back of the class, fading in the background with no friends, and running home every day with a tear-stained face because some bully humiliated her in the middle of the cafeteria while everyone watched. Well, that’s not me. I’m the one who usually do the bullying.

My life is miserable and I know it. But I’m not about to shrink in a corner and cry myself to sleep. Instead, I make sure everyone around me is as miserable as I am – especially my parents. After all it’s only fair. If happy people can spread their happiness and joy so people like me have every right to spread our misery also.

Have you heard the great news? announces the overly excited brunette running towards me in her pink ankle strapped heels. Her entire outfit screamed desperation, from her overdone make-up to her tight mini skirt.

She’s so lucky her parents’ house has a large pool or the only friend she would be able to get is the trash can.

I reach for my phone in my handbag, I haven’t twitted anything nor updated my Instagram since breakfast this morning. Let me take a selfie. Tuning out every noise around, I click the camera away.

Are you even listening to me? she whines.

Of course I am. What else would I be doing?

Her eyes sparkles with joy, making my nails harrowing to grip them out of their sockets. Her annoyingly giddy spirit is spoiling my mood.

She looks at me expectantly, So? What do you think I should do?

I don’t know, Cassie. What do you think I look like? I have better things to do than to play Dr. Phil. I grip my new black leather Gucci handbag tighter to my chest and turn around to find another source of entertainment.

Where are you going? I hear her call after me. I plug my earphones on and drown every noise out with Beyoncé’s Flawless.

Oh, the irony. I’m listening to a song about being flawless while I possess the biggest and worse flaws known to mankind, selfishness, evil, and my all-time favorite, hatred.

Despite what everyone thinks, hatred is what makes the world goes round not love. Just look at Hitler, he changed the world with his hatred so did Abraham Lincoln. He didn’t free the slaves out of love, he simply hated the Confederates so he did something to piss them off and win the war.

As I mindlessly scan the shoes to find one that would go with the dress I bought yesterday, I feel someone’s eyes digging a hole in my back. It’s not the first time people stare at me. I can’t help it if I’m undeniably gorgeous and my parents happen to be making an envious load of money. If they only know what demons that beautiful and confident exterior comes with, they would banish me to the deepest part of hell and throw away the key. I turn abruptly, ready to curse out the voyeur.

But instead of finding a gawking stranger, my eyes fall on a very familiar face. It has change but I would recognize those features anywhere. They’ve been haunting my dreams for so long now that I forgot how to dream anything else. That dreamy face engulf by a layer of chocolate cream and those soft brown eyes – which used to smile at me and be filled with concern – now are looking at me with an air of disdain.

Those are just to die for sing-songs a girl approaching me with her eyes on the pair of heeled ankle boots on the shelf in front of me.

I quickly grab it before she reaches me. I know right.

Her bright smile vanish as I pass her in the direction of the counter.

Come on Rachel, I know you don’t need them but I do. So please, can I have them?

Hell no. Who do I look like, Oprah? I don’t do charity I turn around only to come face-to-face with Him.

My world stops when he winks at me with a devilish smile kissing his lips but his eyes stay inhumanly cold. Goosebumps form on my skin as I drown in them. I want to move but my legs are glue to the spot.

I desperately try to make a word pass my dry throat but it’s useless. He’s already in front of me by the time my mouth opens to let something out. Unlike what I imagine, he doesn’t stop in front of me. He moves past me and kisses the girl who I was talking to moments ago.

You have everything you were looking for, babe? he asks totally ignoring my presence.

No, but it’s fine. I’ll just have to make do with the shoes I have since I couldn’t get the new ones I wanted. Her gaze flickers to me hinting at the shoes in my hands.

I walk away as if I didn’t hear her. I pay for them with my mom’s credit card and leave the store. I hear his laughter in the back of the store but I don’t turn around to see him.

I miss his laughter – although it’s deeper now than the childlike laugh I used to know – his smile, his everything. It’s been so long since I’ve heard him or seen him. Far too long.

I look at the shoes I just bought. I already have the exactly same ones in my closet collecting dust. It’s not my taste at all but the joy she exhibited for them made me want them. I know they aren’t going to fill the void I want them to fill but I bought them anyway. If they can’t make me happy, they can’t make anyone happy. At least she and I are both miserable now.

No matter how psycho I know it sounds like, it still brings me a great deal of ecstasy to know others are suffering along with me. Even if I have to inflict that pain personally, I will not bear it alone.

Before I could take another step, somebody bumps into me, making me trip and let go of the bags.

Are you blind or something? I yell at the girl with eyes as wide as the ocean, watching me fearfully.

Oh God, I’m so sorry. She begins to help me getting up but I slap her hand away. I hate when people touch me.

I’m fine, I don’t need your help. I lift myself up and retrieve my bags off of the floor, all the while she was begging for forgiveness.

I was so close to slap her when He pulls her to him. She’ll be fine. She didn’t break anything, she’s a tough girl. His intense stare snatch away any comebacks I was about to spit out.

Yeah, I’m fine. Don’t worry about it. I reply breathlessly.

The girl stares at me as if I grew a third eye before she smiles and walks away with him.

I stay frozen on the spot, watching them disappear. Their shadows have been lost in the crowd of shoppers laughing and talking when my mind finally decide to come back to me.

I walk directly to the exit not wanting to accidently collide with him again. Somehow the mall suddenly feels constricted. Its walls are not far away enough to keep him away from me.

And Him

Sorry Cassie, I got bored. You can’t really blame me.

But you were my ride home. How am I supposed to get home now? she asks pleadingly.

Her trembling voice is so close to penetrate my closed heart and make me turn around. But it’s just not close enough so I step on the gas pedal to reach my house faster.

I don’t know Cassie, but I’m too far away now and I’m extremely tired. You wouldn’t want your friend to get behind the wheels while she’s tired now, would you?

No, of course not. I-I just wish…

Good, then I’ll see you later. I hang up not wanting to hear her voice anymore. That girl needs a backbone, she’s way too easy to guilt trip.

I turn the wheel, taking the next exit off the San Francisco Bridge only to find myself stuck in an irritating traffic. I need to get to my house now because I can feel an uncomfortable feeling slowly crawling up the length of my body. My breath is becoming shallower with each passing seconds.

It’s been weeks since I’ve had this feeling. I try so hard to push it in the back of my mind but my will is slipping away at lightning speed. It’s all because of him. His simple presence in my head is bringing back all of my old issues. I need to get to my house. I can surmount it better when I’m inside my room, alone, with no prying eyes to see my tainted soul.

I begin to honk desperately at the cars to move faster but all I got is the finger from a few drivers while others just honk back.

Something wet slips down my cheeks, I hastily wipe it – trying to maintain a happy composure. In less than five minutes, big droplets of tears begin to make their way down my face.

I’m happy, I love my life. I’m happy, I love my life. I repeat the chant over and over again, hoping to calm myself down but it’s not helping.

I know I shouldn’t be doing this but my mind is screaming at me to do it. The memory of my mom crying her heart out flashes in my head. It feels so fresh as if the event happened moments ago instead of years ago.

I honk my car once more because I can’t stay here anymore. My mind is driving me crazy. I don’t want to remember. I really don’t. I want to forget his face, his scent, and everything else that happened.

I haven’t move more than a few inches in the last half an hour. My sobs are uncontrollably flowing out of my eyes. The more I try to hold them in the harder my tears flow. A stinging feeling on my arms makes me cast my eyes down only to be welcome by the sight of bloody scratches. There’s blood under my fingernails, and the sleeves of my shirt is rolled up to my elbows. The scratches are hurting but the voices in my head are pounding on my skull.

We’re back, a female voice laughs.

Did you really think you could get rid of us so easily? whispers another one. The truth hurts but someone has to say it. It’s your fault and you know it. Why are you fighting it?

They would all be so much better without you, continues the first one.

No, my mom still needs me, I argue but I know it’s futile. Once they start talking, they won’t stop.

Needs you? resonates a sinister laugh. She doesn’t need you. Nobody does.

Another sob escapes my throat. A little girl appears in my line of vision, she’s happily eating her ice-cream with her hands holding an older version of herself.

I remember when I used to be like that – without a care in the world. But all that got smashed and now I’m left with a heavy heart and a bunch of bitter voices.

You know what you have to do, another whisper echoes in my head. Do it now. They would all be grateful.

Trust us, we can end the suffering for you and everyone else. Just do it.

No, I can’t. I say, my words stifle under my trembling hand covering my mouth.

Yes, you can. You have to.

Don’t you want it to end?

Yes I answer in defeat.

Then take your eyebrow razor. You know what to do.

My hands reaches inside my handbag and pull out the eyebrow razor I keep on me at all times. My shaken right hand hold it over my left wrist.

This is going to be painful.

But not as painful as staying alive. Do it.

As soon as the cold edge of the razor touches my skin, my phone busts into Ne-Yo’s Beautiful Monster.

I watch my mother’s face flashing on my phone’s screen. I can still feel the sharp object connecting with my flesh about to tear it open. But the voices are gone, only to be replaced by a cluster of honking. I turn my head towards the windshield and realize that the traffic has moved considerably but I’m still in the same place.

I move the car then take the phone to answer the call. What do you need, mom?

Hi, honey. I was just wondering when you were coming. You’ve been gone for quite a while now. Her angelic voice betrays the hurt she’s trying to hide by my tone.

I’m not mad at her but at me for almost falling off the wagon again. She’s not strong enough to handle me in another visit to the emergency room. My mind doesn’t seem to remember that when the voices are talking. Then, my only option is to end it all.

I’ll be there when I’ll be there, mother. Don’t rush me. I’m tempted to hang up but that’s only going to backfire on me.

I don’t mean to rush you but your dad and…

He’s not my dad, just your husband mom. Get it right.

You know what Rachel, I’m getting sick of your attitude. Get home now. Your dad and I will deal with you. She hangs up on me.

I bang my head on the steering wheel, it hurts a little but I need physical pain right now. He’s not my father, he’s not.

I hate that guy, I still can’t believe my mom decided to marry that loser. She can do so much better. He’s the very reason why our life is going downhill.

My mom’s call had one positive outcomes, now I know Steven is at the house so I can avoid going there. When he’s there, the voices are even worse than when I’m alone. I don’t care about any reasons they might need me for. They’re going to have to do without me because I have somewhere else to be.

In about thirty minutes I pull up in the garage of an apartment complex. I begin to get ready to park when I notice a car in my usual spot. Now, I have to look for another one. I park the car on a spot marked ‘reserved’. It doesn’t matter, they’ll find another spot too just like I did.

I walk towards the elevator with my eyes lock on my phone’s screen. I forgot to update my Facebook status again. I stop dead on my track when some idiot choose to block my path. I lose my grip on my phone when his body slams in mine.

Watch it, jerk. I yell at him.

I’m sorry. I was in a hurry, I didn’t see you there mumbles the young man in the black suit looking as fluster as ever. There’s a stack of papers in his hands while others float around the parking lot. It’s just I kind of woke up late this morning. I was in such a hurry to get to work that I forgot all of the paper work I brought home last night so I had to come back and…

I put my hand in front of his face to stop his stammering. Hold up, when did I ever say I wanted to know your life story?

I’m sorry, I just tend to talk a lot when I’m nervous, and scared, and hung…

Buddy, I really don’t care. I recover my phone from the floor. A thin line runs around the back, Great, look what you’ve done to my phone. I just bought it last week.

His eyes drift over the phone, It’s perfectly fine.

What? Are you blind? Don’t you see the huge hole you made on the screen? I inch the phone closer to his face.

It’s just a scratch, you can barely see it. He sounds confuse at my reaction.

Just a scratch? It’s just a scratch? I scream at him. I’m over exaggerating, It’s ruin you stupid jerk, I’m not about to walk around with a broken phone.

He takes a step back as if my outburst is scaring him. His breathing looks heavier but it’s not necessarily because of my reaction, he was already nervous before I appeared.

He clears his throat, Um, c-can you move your feet?

With a click of my tongue, I quickly give him a once over. The boy looks like he has never heard of the word fashion. His suit, which barely covers the wrinkled white shirt underneath, has lost its dark coloring – probably due to too many washes – his pant is an inch too short for him. I can see his bright yellow socks hidden by a pair of brown overused sneakers.

Where are you going? The circus? I snicker.

What? He glances over his outfit and smiles at me, Uh, it’s a funny story actually. What happened was…?

Bye! I wave at