Monday 4th October 2004 - The Day My Hatred For Sophy Wilkinson Reached It’s Peak
MSN Name: I’m sorry sorry for making your life a living hell. That wasn’t me, that was alter ego. (Sophy can go fuck herself)
Today I managed to get a lye in thanks to having my chiropody appointment at 10.00 am. It was also a good thing because the night before I got to sleep at 2.30 am, so I made up for lost time.
I went to my appointment, which was at the Union Street Clinic. I think they do a lot of family planning work there, so I felt very dodgy going in and was afraid someone may see me even though I had a perfectly innocent and valid excuse for being there.
I went in and waited in the queue for the reception, then told her I had a chiropody appointment and was almost immediately called through. Anything medical like or hospital like really scares me, I just don’t like the feeling they have about them. They seem really weird and just generally horrible, you know the way that try and make it look as nice as possible to try and make you feel safe? That doesn’t fool me one little bit, it still worries me all the same.
(The NHS is dire)
The woman then asked me before I went in how old I was because you legally can’t treat anyone under 16 without a parent present I think. So I told her 17 and she seemed very shocked, she even said, ‘Oh really! I’m sorry! It’s just you don’t look it!’ Sometimes honest is not the best policy in my eyes, but thanks anyway!
Basically I just told her the problem and she snipped the sides of my nails off where they were a bit ingrown and weird, then told me that it looked like it was going to be a reoccurring problem. So she suggested that I have this procedure thing where they basically make my big toe nail narrower by cutting away the sides. To do that I have to have two injections each side of my big toe which then numbs it and then they cut part of my toenail away.
If I have it done, I’ll have to take the day off of school and perhaps a few days afterwards because it will be painful to walk and I’ll have to have my toes all padded up for about a month afterwards to heal.
I’ve agreed to have it done, but now on second thoughts I’m a bit worried. I mean it’s not an operation or anything but anything medical scares me and I think I was too quick to reply. How long does it take? Does it hurt? Will my toes bleed? Can anything go wrong?
There sending me a letter in the post anyway for the propose date. I suppose I can cancel if I chicken out completely, I’ve also got tonnes of things to do at the moment and if my toes hurt to much to do anything, then what do I do? Also I know Sainsburys is going to kick up an almighty stink because I’ll probably miss days off work and then when I do go back then I’ll be told I’m not allowed to wear open toes or trainers. They’re such a load so selfish arseholes.
Another person I know won’t be happy is Inman, who still seems to think I’m terminally ill or something as he demonstrated a few days ago by having a one on one with me for like five minutes about the coursework we’re going to be doing this term, whereas he spent like 30 seconds on everybody else. I suppose it’s kind of him to be worried about me, but at the same time it’s just damn patronising. He’ll slaughter me for missing his lessons again.
I arrived at school in registration, I went to the form room on the way having a chat to Caz Greevy (Who was wearing a nice red coat) about Sainsburys and stuff, but Hoare and the class had gone to assembly and left a note on the whiteboard for me saying, ‘Assembly in main hall. NOW!’ I could hear the violent bark in my head just from reading the words, needless to say I did not attend the blessed event. No doubt I’ll be formally questioned by Hoare in tomorrow’s form time.
I went to the Sixth Form for break and just ended up sitting on the couches listening to my mp3s, briefly chatting to Mark thecrazedmoose about if he liked the Rooney songs I sent him on MSN last night, because I love them!
Whilst I was listening to Finley Quaye - Dice on repeat. I just sat and watched the mounds of people in the foyer chatting, shouting and joking away from the corner where I was sitting. It was strange how everyone seemed to be interacting with one another except me, who was sitting there in my own isolated mind, yet it seemed to fit the mood I was in. Just a strange thought, I know I’ve confused you.
Miss Rigby was next for Spanish and I hadn’t done her homework of answering all these questions for her, I still haven’t done the first lot, so I’ve got heaps to catch up on and she’s only given me until Friday to do it.
However she was not impressed with the work the others had given her because she wanted them to be long explained answers using quotations and stuff, but all they’d done was written a few words and clearly didn’t satisfy Miss Rigby. So she sat there talking about it and slagging off their work for like 20 minutes and telling them how they needed to improve it whilst I completely switched off and gazed out of the window until she started reading ‘La Casa De Bernarda Alba’.
She seems to think we have all the time in the world and was talking about how we should each set up a plan of when to do our homework and don’t do it all in big chunks because the questions should have taken us about 2-3 hours to do. She doesn’t realise that we don’t have the energy or time to write up a plan and we aren’t prepared to do one piece of homework from her that takes more than an hour and a half at a time. She’s becoming beyond a joke.
I then had a free and went to the resource centre to look at the UCAS website, but still have made no further decisions on what I want to take or where. I still enjoy the prospect of London and Spanish, but I don’t want to just take it on it’s own. I want to do a joint honours thing and do Business Studies or something like that with it. Law looks quite good actually, but you have to be really smart to do it and I’m not so. Some universities which do law have also introduced a test called LNAT to assess your compatibility and expected success to decided whether to accept you or not. I guess it’s like the LSAT test in America where they ask those questions like:
‘John is selling an apple, therefore is he:
Yes I am as confused as you are about the whole concept of the test. Watch Legally Blonde to deepen your knowledge on LSAT’s if you wish.
Next to me in the resource centre was weird Ramon, the guy who is always saying how he’s Spanish but is only like one tenth in reality and was born on the same date as me in Hong Kong, I still find that creepy. He’s done just about everything on his application and was doing his personal statement. He wants to take Chinese Literature and Law, but I’m doubtful he’ll be able to do it. Firstly he claims to know so much about China but only knows a few words and law just seems a danger zone because he thinks very oddly. He’s applied for Cambridge but I don’t think he got that greater grades for his AS’s.
Ciaran and Lizi entered the room at this point and Lizi printed off a letter she’s sending to Bath to ask if they’ll let her in because she’s a rowing champion. The letter was something along the lines of how she wants to do one of their courses but her grades do no meet the entry requirements, and then casually drops in the fact that she came 5th in the world championships. So cunning.
Tomorrow morning, Ciaran, Lizi and I are all going into school early for ‘The Breakfast Club’, which is just a cover name for coursework retake sessions. I’m bringing the Pain Au Chocolat I think and then Baps’ contribution is fruit juice. The plan is that Lizi’s going to pick me up at 7.15 am from my house, then drive out to Harrold to get Ciaran and then start the session at 7.45 am before school. I’m going to look like death and I can already feel I’m going ignore my alarm in the morning.
As they left the room, Ramon asked me why we were going into school so early, so I explained the issue and then elaborated a bit too far by saying, ‘But we didn’t do the worst in the class though. Brandon only got like 25 and I got 60 which was pretty bad but he’s not retaking.’ To later see as I was leaving the room Brandon typing furiously away at the keyboard. He must have heard everything!
Next I had Business Studies, which is where all the trouble began. Ciaran you should have come along to the lesson as I suggested earlier, because you missed a real drama.
As you probably realise, I’m not keen on Sophy Wilkinson at all, as many people seem to be, yet she’s quite popular amongst the ‘popular group’ Christ knows why because everyone always has something to comment on about her.
So the lesson began, then Mr Mackie basically could be bothered to teach, so just gave us a case study sheet and wrote questions on the board. Being Mr Mackie, he doesn’t really care if you don’t do the work and stuff as long as you get the grades in the end, so as usual I sat there not bothering.
Jenny then asks Mr Mackie if she can go elsewhere to work because ‘it’s distracting when you always talk when we’re working.’ But Mackie joking said no and promised to be quiet. I find myself getting bored and so decided to go across the other side of the room to see Paxton’s new Gucci bag which is divine. I sit down and start saying to Paxton, ‘Oh it’s lovely! When did you get it?’ Then Jenny ignorantly butts into our conversation and says angrily to me, ‘Oh can you go away? I can’t concentrate when you’re talking.’ I thought she was joking at first but apparently wasn’t, so with a feeling of dismay, I then made my way back to my place. The way she said it was as if I disrupt her work all the time, when she is actually in the seat furthest away from her. Can she never losen up? She’s gets so obsessive over everything and has no sense of humour, she’s obsessed with doing every single piece of school work possible and going to the gym. Her life must be so boring.
Once I sat back down Mackie said to me, ‘What are you doing now?’ So I said, ‘She told me to go away.’ Then big tits Sophy Wilkinson pokes her fucking nose in and starts giving me an unnecessary mouthful on her point of view, verbally attacking me for no apparent reason. ‘Well some people want to work,’ she started going with all her attitude and full on glares. So I said, ‘Well it’s not as if she doesn’t have the option to work elsewhere if she wants to.’ Then she gobbed back something about how we’ve got until 3.15 which had no relevance to the situation at all. This was all infront of the whole class, everyone was just sitting open mouthed because no one could believe what was happening so very openly. Everyone was just sitting watching and listening.
I was going to say, ‘Jenny isn’t two years old, she doesn’t need you to fight her battles Sophy, so just bugger off.’ But then thought better of it because everyone would turn round and think I was the bitch, so said nothing more on the topic.
I successfully manipulated everyone’s opinion well, and everyone saw me as the victim in the situation and Sophy just a plain horrible cow. They all went, ‘Woooooo!’ After Sophy had finished mouthing off like you do when someone says something bitchy and catish.
I wanted to beat her to fucking death onto the floor, seriously. I have much violence wrapped up inside me and it seemed an ideal time to release it, apart from the fact that it’s not the best time to be suspended from school since UCAS references are yet to be done. I really would have gained so much pleasure from just hitting her in the face until her nose broke and she was begging for mercy. I so wish I could have hit her because she deserves it and one day she’s going to get hit anyway, it’s just a matter of time. I should get Caitlin to do the deed for me.
I then promptly looked at Alex next to me who was looking stunned and then mouthed the word, ‘Bitch’ at her (which I hope Sophy saw). For the rest of the lesson everyone kept quietly glancing at me apart from Jenny and Beth Pinkerton, then pulling and shocked face whilst gesturing their head towards Sophy working over-consciously away.
She had no reason whatsoever to have a go at me, I didn’t even do anything to affect her. The only reason she said something was because she wants to be Jenny’s friend because she sees her as being superior to herself since she’s older and better than she is at Business Studies, so decided she’d try and win her affection by defending her. Also because Paxton has a Gucci bag and she’s jealous because she has a horrible crappy puma one. I hate her so much and hope she has a failure of a life, with any luck in a few years time she’ll be pregnant with her third child by the third father, therefore will not be able to work and on the dole in a scummy part of Bedford.
Did I tell you how she broke up with Stuart? Well she did and over the summer holiday she went out shagging tonnes of different guys, her mum found out and threw her out of the house. She told Lizi that, ‘My mum kicked me down the stairs and now I live at my dad’s.’ Any you actually wonder why Sophy? Because you’re a bitch, you think you’re wonderful, you think everyone should praise you, you think you are the only person that counts, you think you’re really clever, you backstab people, you’re a slag, you seek attention, try and make people look stupid for your benefit and are just a general overall bitch faced fucking whore who deserves the worst life possible since you have no qualities at all. I hate her with all my heart now and if she mutters just one word to me every again I’m going to be so rude and arrogant back to her out of pure spitefulness.
The remainder of the lesson consisted of Alex and I discussing what a cow Sophy was through writing on each other’s paper. About how she only did it because of Jenny and that Fiona is also getting obsessed with Jenny just because she’s older and how Sophy is pathetic scum. Alex also told me how she doesn’t like Jenny at all anymore and I’m beginning to understand why thanks to that little outburst. We then devised a plan for me to leave the room and see if Sophy would start moaning about me to anyone, in particular Jenny and Mr Mackie.
So I left the room and then Paxton casually followed a couple of minutes later in order to talk to me without being slandered by Miss ‘I’m so fucking fabulous’ Wilkinson. She was saying how she had no right to start shouting at me for nothing and agreed on the same reasons, that she was jealous of the Gucci bag because she only has a puma one and just wants to be Jenny’s friend. But also said how Jenny was really rude for telling me to go away in the first place. Also she was congratulating me on getting an A and paring with Sophy and Jenny because they’re determined to collectively be the best in the class and are always going over the top with work to do it, yet I did sod all last year but ended up matching their grades. We talked for about 10 minutes and then thought we’d be sly by going back into the classroom one after the other than together.
I sat back down in my place next to Alex and she reported back to me. Sophie and Jenny had been talking but because Mr Mackie was talking to someone across the room, she couldn’t hear what they were saying to eachother. So much for needing to concentrate you workaholic freaks, I thought I wasn’t allowed to talk otherwise I’d disturb you, yet you can still concentrate whilst chatting together? I think not.
Alex then started writing to me about how she thinks Simon Dell from our group, the quiet one fancies me. She said Jenny thinks so too because of the way he, ‘looks at you’. I don’t think he’s ever looked at me in his life! I only spoke to him properly a few weeks ago because he now sits one side of me in Treverton’s lessons when we’re in BE1 and I ate some of his polos. I think Alex and Jenny read a bit too far into it.
As the lesson came to a close, people were asking about their predicted grades and what was going on their UCAS references. It came to Sophy Wilkinson and she goes for the whole class to hear, ‘What have you predicted me?’ Then Mr Mackie said B, then she started protesting, ‘But I got an A this year.’ I then muttered but loud enough so that she could hear, ‘Yeah well so did I but I’m not trying to broadcast it to the world because I love myself.’ Then started going, ‘I got just about full marks on two of the papers apart from one, who I’m obviously going to retake.’ I mumbled again, ‘Oh do shut up Sophy, no one cares, you’re not as smart as you think you are.’
The lesson finished and she was still talking/flirting to Mr Mackie whilst discussing her predicted grade, I was going to bash my huge bag across her legs as I went out the door but thought better of it since Mackie right there and left still really distracted by the thought of Sophy.
I went home and the whole evening I kept being reminded of Sophy, her bitch like behaviour and how I hate her. I think because there’s nothing I can do about it, but I have so many illegal thoughts on how to get my own back, which I of course am unable to use.
I went on MSN once I was home and noticed Brandon online for the first time ever, so decided I’d say, ‘Harz it, Harz it,’ to him (Translation: How is it? How is it?) but he didn’t reply, that was until I got a message back saying that Brandon wasn’t home and it was his mum (who for your information seems very sweet). She even told me how to spell ‘Harz It’ properly which I now know is, ‘Howzit!’ Isn’t she great?
Not so sure she had such a great first impression from me though considering my username: ‘I’m sorry sorry for making your life a living hell. That wasn’t me, that was alter ego. (Sophy can go fuck herself)’
I also spoke to Pete for the first time in ages on MSN because his computer has been broken for ages. He was asking for my opinion on whether he should apply of Oxbridge or not. He got pretty high grades and is retaking to hopefully get 3 A’s, also he has good extra curricular stuff to add on which will improve his credibility. I think he could do it, but I advised him to go for Oxford if he does do it because at Cambridge the courses are too traditional and just aren’t functional for today’s world. Also they don’t let you have a job because they expect you to be 100% focused on studying, so you’ll be in tonnes of unnecessary debt afterwards.
Whilst I was having a chat to Pete, Maddie barges in the room going, ‘Mum says I can go on the computer. Get off, I have to do coursework.’ Oh I bet, coursework is just a blatant code name for MSN.
So I made her wait until I was done, then she started making stupid noises and as usual tugged hard at my hair at my already messy hair on the way out of the room. So I smacked her on the arm, but she then started fake screaming, ‘Mum!!!! She hit me straight in the rib!’ but of course every word she said was believed and I got told off and thrown off the computer.
I knew she’d only go on MSN, so five minutes later I went into the study with the door closed to find her doing just that. I shouted mum and she actually reacted by shouting at her to get off MSN which she did all of five minutes as expected. So I told mum again, but this time round she just started going, ‘Oh shut up Olivia. Why do you think the computer is yours?’ Then I went back, ‘Well why do you seem to think the computer is Maddie’s whenever she wants it?’ I then got a mouthful back about the usual business about how she’s not listening which is just her way of getting out of conversations when she knows that I’m right and she’s wrong, therefore unable to win.
Maddie then loses her psychotic temper and flips out by hitting me and the grabs my arm immersing her nails into my skin again. I break free but then on closer inspection notice that two of the nail marks have bled slightly, two of them have clear liquid seeping up through my skin and then all have torn some skin back and scratch marks, on top of that they were turning red and lumpy round the edge probably because Maddie is infested with bacteria and covered in various creams, scents and make up which the underlying skin in my arm does not like. So I ask mum if she had any antiseptic cream and she blasts, ‘No. Why.’ So I said because my arm is going funny from where she dug her nails in and clear stuff is coming out.’ Then she as usual took Maddie’s side, ‘Don’t be so bloody stupid, you don’t get clear stuff coming out of your arm. Just shut up and leave her alone.’ So I’m guessing I’ve just picked up 100 new small bacterium living in my skin cells. It really stings too, like injection sting where the three marks are. I still have three light purple scars on my wrist by the way from January where she pinched me.
So as usual Maddie got her own fucking way and went on MSN for the next few hours, that was until she went on the phone downstairs, another of her pastimes, in order to keep her network of so called ‘mates’ loving her. She does it every single night and gets told every time that she’s going to have to pay the phone bill because it’s so big, but does she ever? No. I never use the phone, but if all of a sudden I did, then I know who’d have to pay the bill. That’s right, moi.
After that I glanced quickly at the prospectuses I got thought the post that day, but there’s nothing that makes me immediately think, ‘That’s where I want to go and that’s what I want to do.’ All of them are just maybes. I can’t make a decision on anything let alone university stuff which I no longer have time for because they want our whole forms complete by half term which is in about two weeks time. I’m utterly screwed and on looking though the options I realised that whatever happens to me next year I know I’m not going to be happy. I never am anymore, which is what finally made me cry that day. I managed to hold on for quite a long time considering what a shit and completely depressing day it was.
One last bitch about Sophy and this is so gross. Someone, I won’t say who but they were told by Kelly Hamlin the ultimate slag of the year and told me how the summer before last she was swimming with a whole group of our year in Harrold. She needed to go to the toilet but couldn’t be bothered to go back to her house, so instead decided she’s sneek round to this shingle island, take a shit and then demolish the evidence by pushing it into the river. Nice.
On a good note, check out this link for our resident superstar rower, Miss Elizabeth Mary Hills:
http://www.bedfordshireonline.co.uk/ViewArticle2.aspx?SectionID=546&ArticleID=820671
(Jesus Vicki has put on some muscle, she used to be stick thin!)
Today I managed to get a lye in thanks to having my chiropody appointment at 10.00 am. It was also a good thing because the night before I got to sleep at 2.30 am, so I made up for lost time.
I went to my appointment, which was at the Union Street Clinic. I think they do a lot of family planning work there, so I felt very dodgy going in and was afraid someone may see me even though I had a perfectly innocent and valid excuse for being there.
I went in and waited in the queue for the reception, then told her I had a chiropody appointment and was almost immediately called through. Anything medical like or hospital like really scares me, I just don’t like the feeling they have about them. They seem really weird and just generally horrible, you know the way that try and make it look as nice as possible to try and make you feel safe? That doesn’t fool me one little bit, it still worries me all the same.
(The NHS is dire)
The woman then asked me before I went in how old I was because you legally can’t treat anyone under 16 without a parent present I think. So I told her 17 and she seemed very shocked, she even said, ‘Oh really! I’m sorry! It’s just you don’t look it!’ Sometimes honest is not the best policy in my eyes, but thanks anyway!
Basically I just told her the problem and she snipped the sides of my nails off where they were a bit ingrown and weird, then told me that it looked like it was going to be a reoccurring problem. So she suggested that I have this procedure thing where they basically make my big toe nail narrower by cutting away the sides. To do that I have to have two injections each side of my big toe which then numbs it and then they cut part of my toenail away.
If I have it done, I’ll have to take the day off of school and perhaps a few days afterwards because it will be painful to walk and I’ll have to have my toes all padded up for about a month afterwards to heal.
I’ve agreed to have it done, but now on second thoughts I’m a bit worried. I mean it’s not an operation or anything but anything medical scares me and I think I was too quick to reply. How long does it take? Does it hurt? Will my toes bleed? Can anything go wrong?
There sending me a letter in the post anyway for the propose date. I suppose I can cancel if I chicken out completely, I’ve also got tonnes of things to do at the moment and if my toes hurt to much to do anything, then what do I do? Also I know Sainsburys is going to kick up an almighty stink because I’ll probably miss days off work and then when I do go back then I’ll be told I’m not allowed to wear open toes or trainers. They’re such a load so selfish arseholes.
Another person I know won’t be happy is Inman, who still seems to think I’m terminally ill or something as he demonstrated a few days ago by having a one on one with me for like five minutes about the coursework we’re going to be doing this term, whereas he spent like 30 seconds on everybody else. I suppose it’s kind of him to be worried about me, but at the same time it’s just damn patronising. He’ll slaughter me for missing his lessons again.
I arrived at school in registration, I went to the form room on the way having a chat to Caz Greevy (Who was wearing a nice red coat) about Sainsburys and stuff, but Hoare and the class had gone to assembly and left a note on the whiteboard for me saying, ‘Assembly in main hall. NOW!’ I could hear the violent bark in my head just from reading the words, needless to say I did not attend the blessed event. No doubt I’ll be formally questioned by Hoare in tomorrow’s form time.
I went to the Sixth Form for break and just ended up sitting on the couches listening to my mp3s, briefly chatting to Mark thecrazedmoose about if he liked the Rooney songs I sent him on MSN last night, because I love them!
Whilst I was listening to Finley Quaye - Dice on repeat. I just sat and watched the mounds of people in the foyer chatting, shouting and joking away from the corner where I was sitting. It was strange how everyone seemed to be interacting with one another except me, who was sitting there in my own isolated mind, yet it seemed to fit the mood I was in. Just a strange thought, I know I’ve confused you.
Miss Rigby was next for Spanish and I hadn’t done her homework of answering all these questions for her, I still haven’t done the first lot, so I’ve got heaps to catch up on and she’s only given me until Friday to do it.
However she was not impressed with the work the others had given her because she wanted them to be long explained answers using quotations and stuff, but all they’d done was written a few words and clearly didn’t satisfy Miss Rigby. So she sat there talking about it and slagging off their work for like 20 minutes and telling them how they needed to improve it whilst I completely switched off and gazed out of the window until she started reading ‘La Casa De Bernarda Alba’.
She seems to think we have all the time in the world and was talking about how we should each set up a plan of when to do our homework and don’t do it all in big chunks because the questions should have taken us about 2-3 hours to do. She doesn’t realise that we don’t have the energy or time to write up a plan and we aren’t prepared to do one piece of homework from her that takes more than an hour and a half at a time. She’s becoming beyond a joke.
I then had a free and went to the resource centre to look at the UCAS website, but still have made no further decisions on what I want to take or where. I still enjoy the prospect of London and Spanish, but I don’t want to just take it on it’s own. I want to do a joint honours thing and do Business Studies or something like that with it. Law looks quite good actually, but you have to be really smart to do it and I’m not so. Some universities which do law have also introduced a test called LNAT to assess your compatibility and expected success to decided whether to accept you or not. I guess it’s like the LSAT test in America where they ask those questions like:
‘John is selling an apple, therefore is he:
- Selling one certain variety
- All varieties
- Sundowners and Coxes
- Neither Sundowners nor Coxes’
Yes I am as confused as you are about the whole concept of the test. Watch Legally Blonde to deepen your knowledge on LSAT’s if you wish.
Next to me in the resource centre was weird Ramon, the guy who is always saying how he’s Spanish but is only like one tenth in reality and was born on the same date as me in Hong Kong, I still find that creepy. He’s done just about everything on his application and was doing his personal statement. He wants to take Chinese Literature and Law, but I’m doubtful he’ll be able to do it. Firstly he claims to know so much about China but only knows a few words and law just seems a danger zone because he thinks very oddly. He’s applied for Cambridge but I don’t think he got that greater grades for his AS’s.
Ciaran and Lizi entered the room at this point and Lizi printed off a letter she’s sending to Bath to ask if they’ll let her in because she’s a rowing champion. The letter was something along the lines of how she wants to do one of their courses but her grades do no meet the entry requirements, and then casually drops in the fact that she came 5th in the world championships. So cunning.
Tomorrow morning, Ciaran, Lizi and I are all going into school early for ‘The Breakfast Club’, which is just a cover name for coursework retake sessions. I’m bringing the Pain Au Chocolat I think and then Baps’ contribution is fruit juice. The plan is that Lizi’s going to pick me up at 7.15 am from my house, then drive out to Harrold to get Ciaran and then start the session at 7.45 am before school. I’m going to look like death and I can already feel I’m going ignore my alarm in the morning.
As they left the room, Ramon asked me why we were going into school so early, so I explained the issue and then elaborated a bit too far by saying, ‘But we didn’t do the worst in the class though. Brandon only got like 25 and I got 60 which was pretty bad but he’s not retaking.’ To later see as I was leaving the room Brandon typing furiously away at the keyboard. He must have heard everything!
Next I had Business Studies, which is where all the trouble began. Ciaran you should have come along to the lesson as I suggested earlier, because you missed a real drama.
As you probably realise, I’m not keen on Sophy Wilkinson at all, as many people seem to be, yet she’s quite popular amongst the ‘popular group’ Christ knows why because everyone always has something to comment on about her.
So the lesson began, then Mr Mackie basically could be bothered to teach, so just gave us a case study sheet and wrote questions on the board. Being Mr Mackie, he doesn’t really care if you don’t do the work and stuff as long as you get the grades in the end, so as usual I sat there not bothering.
Jenny then asks Mr Mackie if she can go elsewhere to work because ‘it’s distracting when you always talk when we’re working.’ But Mackie joking said no and promised to be quiet. I find myself getting bored and so decided to go across the other side of the room to see Paxton’s new Gucci bag which is divine. I sit down and start saying to Paxton, ‘Oh it’s lovely! When did you get it?’ Then Jenny ignorantly butts into our conversation and says angrily to me, ‘Oh can you go away? I can’t concentrate when you’re talking.’ I thought she was joking at first but apparently wasn’t, so with a feeling of dismay, I then made my way back to my place. The way she said it was as if I disrupt her work all the time, when she is actually in the seat furthest away from her. Can she never losen up? She’s gets so obsessive over everything and has no sense of humour, she’s obsessed with doing every single piece of school work possible and going to the gym. Her life must be so boring.
Once I sat back down Mackie said to me, ‘What are you doing now?’ So I said, ‘She told me to go away.’ Then big tits Sophy Wilkinson pokes her fucking nose in and starts giving me an unnecessary mouthful on her point of view, verbally attacking me for no apparent reason. ‘Well some people want to work,’ she started going with all her attitude and full on glares. So I said, ‘Well it’s not as if she doesn’t have the option to work elsewhere if she wants to.’ Then she gobbed back something about how we’ve got until 3.15 which had no relevance to the situation at all. This was all infront of the whole class, everyone was just sitting open mouthed because no one could believe what was happening so very openly. Everyone was just sitting watching and listening.
I was going to say, ‘Jenny isn’t two years old, she doesn’t need you to fight her battles Sophy, so just bugger off.’ But then thought better of it because everyone would turn round and think I was the bitch, so said nothing more on the topic.
I successfully manipulated everyone’s opinion well, and everyone saw me as the victim in the situation and Sophy just a plain horrible cow. They all went, ‘Woooooo!’ After Sophy had finished mouthing off like you do when someone says something bitchy and catish.
I wanted to beat her to fucking death onto the floor, seriously. I have much violence wrapped up inside me and it seemed an ideal time to release it, apart from the fact that it’s not the best time to be suspended from school since UCAS references are yet to be done. I really would have gained so much pleasure from just hitting her in the face until her nose broke and she was begging for mercy. I so wish I could have hit her because she deserves it and one day she’s going to get hit anyway, it’s just a matter of time. I should get Caitlin to do the deed for me.
I then promptly looked at Alex next to me who was looking stunned and then mouthed the word, ‘Bitch’ at her (which I hope Sophy saw). For the rest of the lesson everyone kept quietly glancing at me apart from Jenny and Beth Pinkerton, then pulling and shocked face whilst gesturing their head towards Sophy working over-consciously away.
She had no reason whatsoever to have a go at me, I didn’t even do anything to affect her. The only reason she said something was because she wants to be Jenny’s friend because she sees her as being superior to herself since she’s older and better than she is at Business Studies, so decided she’d try and win her affection by defending her. Also because Paxton has a Gucci bag and she’s jealous because she has a horrible crappy puma one. I hate her so much and hope she has a failure of a life, with any luck in a few years time she’ll be pregnant with her third child by the third father, therefore will not be able to work and on the dole in a scummy part of Bedford.
Did I tell you how she broke up with Stuart? Well she did and over the summer holiday she went out shagging tonnes of different guys, her mum found out and threw her out of the house. She told Lizi that, ‘My mum kicked me down the stairs and now I live at my dad’s.’ Any you actually wonder why Sophy? Because you’re a bitch, you think you’re wonderful, you think everyone should praise you, you think you are the only person that counts, you think you’re really clever, you backstab people, you’re a slag, you seek attention, try and make people look stupid for your benefit and are just a general overall bitch faced fucking whore who deserves the worst life possible since you have no qualities at all. I hate her with all my heart now and if she mutters just one word to me every again I’m going to be so rude and arrogant back to her out of pure spitefulness.
The remainder of the lesson consisted of Alex and I discussing what a cow Sophy was through writing on each other’s paper. About how she only did it because of Jenny and that Fiona is also getting obsessed with Jenny just because she’s older and how Sophy is pathetic scum. Alex also told me how she doesn’t like Jenny at all anymore and I’m beginning to understand why thanks to that little outburst. We then devised a plan for me to leave the room and see if Sophy would start moaning about me to anyone, in particular Jenny and Mr Mackie.
So I left the room and then Paxton casually followed a couple of minutes later in order to talk to me without being slandered by Miss ‘I’m so fucking fabulous’ Wilkinson. She was saying how she had no right to start shouting at me for nothing and agreed on the same reasons, that she was jealous of the Gucci bag because she only has a puma one and just wants to be Jenny’s friend. But also said how Jenny was really rude for telling me to go away in the first place. Also she was congratulating me on getting an A and paring with Sophy and Jenny because they’re determined to collectively be the best in the class and are always going over the top with work to do it, yet I did sod all last year but ended up matching their grades. We talked for about 10 minutes and then thought we’d be sly by going back into the classroom one after the other than together.
I sat back down in my place next to Alex and she reported back to me. Sophie and Jenny had been talking but because Mr Mackie was talking to someone across the room, she couldn’t hear what they were saying to eachother. So much for needing to concentrate you workaholic freaks, I thought I wasn’t allowed to talk otherwise I’d disturb you, yet you can still concentrate whilst chatting together? I think not.
Alex then started writing to me about how she thinks Simon Dell from our group, the quiet one fancies me. She said Jenny thinks so too because of the way he, ‘looks at you’. I don’t think he’s ever looked at me in his life! I only spoke to him properly a few weeks ago because he now sits one side of me in Treverton’s lessons when we’re in BE1 and I ate some of his polos. I think Alex and Jenny read a bit too far into it.
As the lesson came to a close, people were asking about their predicted grades and what was going on their UCAS references. It came to Sophy Wilkinson and she goes for the whole class to hear, ‘What have you predicted me?’ Then Mr Mackie said B, then she started protesting, ‘But I got an A this year.’ I then muttered but loud enough so that she could hear, ‘Yeah well so did I but I’m not trying to broadcast it to the world because I love myself.’ Then started going, ‘I got just about full marks on two of the papers apart from one, who I’m obviously going to retake.’ I mumbled again, ‘Oh do shut up Sophy, no one cares, you’re not as smart as you think you are.’
The lesson finished and she was still talking/flirting to Mr Mackie whilst discussing her predicted grade, I was going to bash my huge bag across her legs as I went out the door but thought better of it since Mackie right there and left still really distracted by the thought of Sophy.
I went home and the whole evening I kept being reminded of Sophy, her bitch like behaviour and how I hate her. I think because there’s nothing I can do about it, but I have so many illegal thoughts on how to get my own back, which I of course am unable to use.
I went on MSN once I was home and noticed Brandon online for the first time ever, so decided I’d say, ‘Harz it, Harz it,’ to him (Translation: How is it? How is it?) but he didn’t reply, that was until I got a message back saying that Brandon wasn’t home and it was his mum (who for your information seems very sweet). She even told me how to spell ‘Harz It’ properly which I now know is, ‘Howzit!’ Isn’t she great?
Not so sure she had such a great first impression from me though considering my username: ‘I’m sorry sorry for making your life a living hell. That wasn’t me, that was alter ego. (Sophy can go fuck herself)’
I also spoke to Pete for the first time in ages on MSN because his computer has been broken for ages. He was asking for my opinion on whether he should apply of Oxbridge or not. He got pretty high grades and is retaking to hopefully get 3 A’s, also he has good extra curricular stuff to add on which will improve his credibility. I think he could do it, but I advised him to go for Oxford if he does do it because at Cambridge the courses are too traditional and just aren’t functional for today’s world. Also they don’t let you have a job because they expect you to be 100% focused on studying, so you’ll be in tonnes of unnecessary debt afterwards.
Whilst I was having a chat to Pete, Maddie barges in the room going, ‘Mum says I can go on the computer. Get off, I have to do coursework.’ Oh I bet, coursework is just a blatant code name for MSN.
So I made her wait until I was done, then she started making stupid noises and as usual tugged hard at my hair at my already messy hair on the way out of the room. So I smacked her on the arm, but she then started fake screaming, ‘Mum!!!! She hit me straight in the rib!’ but of course every word she said was believed and I got told off and thrown off the computer.
I knew she’d only go on MSN, so five minutes later I went into the study with the door closed to find her doing just that. I shouted mum and she actually reacted by shouting at her to get off MSN which she did all of five minutes as expected. So I told mum again, but this time round she just started going, ‘Oh shut up Olivia. Why do you think the computer is yours?’ Then I went back, ‘Well why do you seem to think the computer is Maddie’s whenever she wants it?’ I then got a mouthful back about the usual business about how she’s not listening which is just her way of getting out of conversations when she knows that I’m right and she’s wrong, therefore unable to win.
Maddie then loses her psychotic temper and flips out by hitting me and the grabs my arm immersing her nails into my skin again. I break free but then on closer inspection notice that two of the nail marks have bled slightly, two of them have clear liquid seeping up through my skin and then all have torn some skin back and scratch marks, on top of that they were turning red and lumpy round the edge probably because Maddie is infested with bacteria and covered in various creams, scents and make up which the underlying skin in my arm does not like. So I ask mum if she had any antiseptic cream and she blasts, ‘No. Why.’ So I said because my arm is going funny from where she dug her nails in and clear stuff is coming out.’ Then she as usual took Maddie’s side, ‘Don’t be so bloody stupid, you don’t get clear stuff coming out of your arm. Just shut up and leave her alone.’ So I’m guessing I’ve just picked up 100 new small bacterium living in my skin cells. It really stings too, like injection sting where the three marks are. I still have three light purple scars on my wrist by the way from January where she pinched me.
So as usual Maddie got her own fucking way and went on MSN for the next few hours, that was until she went on the phone downstairs, another of her pastimes, in order to keep her network of so called ‘mates’ loving her. She does it every single night and gets told every time that she’s going to have to pay the phone bill because it’s so big, but does she ever? No. I never use the phone, but if all of a sudden I did, then I know who’d have to pay the bill. That’s right, moi.
After that I glanced quickly at the prospectuses I got thought the post that day, but there’s nothing that makes me immediately think, ‘That’s where I want to go and that’s what I want to do.’ All of them are just maybes. I can’t make a decision on anything let alone university stuff which I no longer have time for because they want our whole forms complete by half term which is in about two weeks time. I’m utterly screwed and on looking though the options I realised that whatever happens to me next year I know I’m not going to be happy. I never am anymore, which is what finally made me cry that day. I managed to hold on for quite a long time considering what a shit and completely depressing day it was.
One last bitch about Sophy and this is so gross. Someone, I won’t say who but they were told by Kelly Hamlin the ultimate slag of the year and told me how the summer before last she was swimming with a whole group of our year in Harrold. She needed to go to the toilet but couldn’t be bothered to go back to her house, so instead decided she’s sneek round to this shingle island, take a shit and then demolish the evidence by pushing it into the river. Nice.
On a good note, check out this link for our resident superstar rower, Miss Elizabeth Mary Hills:
http://www.bedfordshireonline.co.uk/ViewArticle2.aspx?SectionID=546&ArticleID=820671
(Jesus Vicki has put on some muscle, she used to be stick thin!)