Original Stories Fan Fiction ❯ Wet Closet ❯ Gal ( Chapter 1 )

~ Gal's world ~

 

It was a very sunny day. Spring season had just begun, and so does sixteen-year-old Shannon Juanata's senior year at the infamous St. Nicholas High School Academy. Everything seems to be in perfect order, if the girl—yes, Shannon is a girl—hadn't been late for three successive days, today being the fourth. She's not at fault, anyway; the alarm clock should be blamed for not waking her up on time.

 

“Geez,” she said to herself, riding her bike downtown at breakneck speed. “How unlucky of me.”

 

The same thing happened over the next few days, and in no time at all Shannon had become one of the most unwanted people in her school. Well, for her, it was just plain popularity, and that those who “envied” her could do nothing but whisper behind her back. But don't get any wrong ideas; it was not her lateness that caused our protagonist all the unwanted reputation.

 

The other students thought that she was a weirdo—actually, she really is, and she definitely admits it, though for her it's not “weird,” but mere “uniqueness.” She may have been fine-looking, only if she wasn't fixing her ebony hair in very strange—and sometimes, funny—hairdos, and if she wasn't wearing glasses for no reason at all. She had a very odd taste both in food and clothing (Who in their right mind would wear a sweater, long skirt, and rubber shoes when it's spring?). However, the thing that is really annoying about her is her tactlessness. She would not think before she acts, and would blurt out anything that comes in her mind—anything.

 

It was needless to say that Shannon had no friends, nor had anyone treated her fairly normal. But that doesn't matter, as she was used to it anyway. She doesn't care about what they say to her; she'll do what she wants.

 

So on that Friday during the last period before club activities, the usual thing happened within the doors of the freshman classroom.

 

“Ms. Juanata?” called out the teacher, as he paused from his discussion to look at his student uncertainly.

 

Shannon looked up from taking down notes. “Yes, Sir Fernandez? Is there something wrong?”

 

“Erm…nothing, really,” said Sir Fernandez quickly. “It's just that, do you really need to wear that?” The people in the room turned their heads curiously to Shannon.

 

“Oh, you mean this?” said Shannon casually, pointing a finger to her head, where she placed a pink headband; that is, a headband with the springy things on it that wiggles whenever you move your head. You know, the one that children are so fond of wearing. “I am happy that you noticed this, sir. This is the latest one available in stores. I was just wondering why nobody in this class appears to find it Maybe they just don't know the latest trends.”

 

The class are straining themselves from bursting out in laughter.

 

“God, I love it when something like this happens,” noted Sheila Santos, who was sitting behind Shannon. “A little nice icebreaker in the middle of the History class.”

“Oh, is that the latest trend, Shannon?” asked Dan Ocampo in mock excitement. “Could you tell me where you bought that…that pretty headband? Which children's store is it?” The others snorted in laughter.

 

“Very funny, Dan,” snapped Shannon, adjusting her headband smugly. “I know how you feel, though. I know you feel disappointed because you are a boy and can't wear something like this.”

 

Sir Fernandez cleared his throat loudly, and the class turned quiet once more.

 

“Now that's not very nice Mr. Ocampo,” he said sternly.

 

“But you find it weird too, don't you, sir?” said Dan maliciously. “You even asked weirdo here.”

 

“Hey!” said Shannon loudly. “I'm not a weirdo!”

 

But at that moment, the bell rang throughout the school, signaling the end of the class. Shannon as usual stood out alone as her classmates streamed out of the classroom in groups, heading to their respective clubs.

 

“Hey, Shanny!”

 

Shannon paused from packing her bag and turned to see the gloating faces of Sheila Santos and her peers as they approached her.

 

“What?” she said monotonously. Sheila barely talks with her, unless if she teases or whenever she needs something from her.

 

“Listen,” said Sheila. “We're cleaners for this day, am I right?”

 

“Yes,” said Shannon slowly. “So?”

 

“Well, you see, my friends and I have got something to do after dismissal, so is it alright with you if we excuse ourselves for today?”

 

Shannon looked at each of them suspiciously.

 

“You always seem to have an errand during our cleaning duties,” she said curtly. “I'm not stupid, you know.”

 

The smile from Sheila's and her company's faces were wiped off like dirt.

 

“Since when did you earn to contradict us, weirdo?” Rachel Ramirez, a pug-nosed, ugly girl (well, in Shannon's point of view), said coldly.

 

“Yeah, who are you to disagree with us?” piped up bucktoothed Tina Damyos.

 

“And just who are you to push me around?” retorted Shannon. “Just because I let you make fun of me it doesn't mean you have the right to do it.”

 

She was puzzled to see when a smirk formed in Sheila's face as she stared at her.

“Hmm…Ms. Prissy knows how to stick to herself already,” she said to her comrades. “I think she ought to learn a lesson.” As she aid that, the others cast her dirty looks.

 

Shannon wasn't scared of them, not even a little bit. “So, what are you doin—Hey!” Ugly Rachel had pulled her headband from her head.

 

“Give that back to me!” Shannon made to grab the headband, but Rachel held it up high out of her reach. It was unfair; Rachel is taller than her.

 

“We won't return your headband unless you clean for us,” said Sheila matter-of-factly. “And also, don't tell it to any teacher if you don't want this thing to end up in the garbage. Farewell then, Shannon.”

 

They went out of the classroom, and Shannon heard them erupt in laughter as they walked away. She clenched her hands into fists in frustration. My headband is gone. Then, realizing how upset she was, she shook her head wildly and hitched her confident smile back.

 

“Come on, it's just a headband,” she said energetically. “Nothing to be sad about…”

 

But it was a lie. She loved that headband so much, and it being in Sheila's hands means goodbye. She won't ever see it again. But it's not as if this is the first time something like this happened; she had always been robbed of her things since kindergarten. That headband is nothing compared to her teddy bear which her wicked male classmates back in fourth grade had thrown in the river under the bridge.

 

Sighing, she slung her bag onto her shoulder and went out of the now-empty classroom, heading for the Booklovers Club, known throughout campus as the most boring club and the one with the least number of members.

 

What happened next was the thing that totally pissed her off.

 

She trailed silently along the walkway off the building that was lined with benches. As she passed by a group of senior girls, someone stretched out her leg purposely and tripped her.

 

“Aahh!”

 

People around the vicinity gasped as Shannon landed facedown on hard cement while the fourth years laughed.

 

“Oops, sorry,” said who seemed to be the prettiest girl among the group, not sounding sorry at all. “I didn't see you coming.” She brushed a hand to her long sleek black hair to keep it away from her beautifully chiseled features as she watched Shannon.

 

Shannon pushed herself from the ground, finding her glasses shattered by her side and her left knee grazed. However, she hadn't paid attention to any of this—for she immediately dug in her bag to check out something. She found it and pulled it from her bag, staring at it with shock.

“Oh no…”

 

It was a picture frame depicting a photo of her with her dad, which she always brings with her wherever she went. In the picture, she was only seven years old, embraced by a middle-aged man from whom she inherited her jet-black hair. It was a shame that he hadn't lived long enough to see her enter high school; he was the only relative she had, and this photo is the only evidence she had to prove that he existed in her life.

 

So no one can guess how terrible she felt to find the picture frame's glass broken.

 

“Hey, I'm talking to you, freshman,” said the beautiful girl bossily. She was surprised when Shannon shot her a sharp glare.

 

“You…why did you do that?” Shannon blurted out. Her eyes had gone watery.

 

“Look,” said the senior, looking at her amusedly. “I didn't do that on purpose.”

 

“Liar!”

 

“Hey, don't you shout at Erin!” protested the girl's companions. “Why don't you just admit how stupid you are to trip there? Don't blame others for your stupidity.”

 

But Shannon had already grabbed her bag and ran back to the building, tears flowing out of her eyes.

 

So far, this was the worst day in her whole life.