The Whisperer of the Abyss:
Sandy’s Never-Ending Monday Rants - Journal Entry 53
Fiction that's based on real life. All names were changed, just in case.
Gallium's Raw Temper
Dear Journal, I remember grade nine, the end-of-the-year evening party that the school arranged. All the student peers including Anna, Phebe, Gallium and, I gathered in the hall and sat around tables. There were about 160 peers from grade nine (we had eight grade nines). I knew some people from every class.
None of my friends had dates, and I was on the same no-date team. I had a reason why I had no date for the school dance thing. Remember Norman? That was one of the reasons. Another reason was that one boy from another grade nine class who made his friends ask me if I would agree to his company at the dance. I said, "No." If that boy really wanted to ask me for the dance, he had to ask himself. I didn't know who he was because I misheard his name. To this day, I don't know the person's name or who he was or from which grade nine class.
Everyone danced. One boy devowered shrimp, caught salmonella, and projected vomit everywhere.
The party continued.
Everything went all right until Phebe, who had no date, asked if I would like to dance the slow dance with her.
Given, I had no date too, I said, "Yes!"
At that moment Gallium coiled and her eyes bulged out. Her mouth turned tiny. The party was going to end in half an hour because it was a school party. Guessing she'd be okay because her parents were going to pick her up soon, Phebe and I jumped on the dance floor and joined all the couples and danced the slow dance - enjoying our fantabulous evening and dresses.
After the dance, Gallium blew up yelling, screaming and scratching her skin off with her long nails. Red lines spawned on her forearms from the scratching she did to herself. She moved away from the table, screaming. I did not get why she was yelling nonstop, a temper tantrum. We had a nine grader with a mind of a five year old. Natalia and I contemplated on the incohesive situation on our hands, remained calm. Not knowing what was happening to Gallium, we attempted to calm her down.
"Now everyone will think we are lesbians!" She screamed while drizzling everyone around with her saliva spit. Her hopes of a boy asking her for a dance crumbled - later she would reveal.
Her eyes were running, just like my authority figure female at home and male when they were going crazy out of their minds. I assumed Gallium's mental state was abnormal and that she would jump into an action of sorts.
"No, they don't," Phebe replied calmly.
"No one cares, Gallium," I confirmed.
Gallium's face was tomato red. Her breathing rate increased, and she huffed and puffed madness through her nose drills. She ran clawing her cellular flip phone and disappeared somewhere.
I guessed she had to go to the washroom, just like when she ran away during the dissection of an animal in science class. She was fuming, but that was her problem. If Phebe and I wanted to be lesbians, that was our business only and no one else's business ever. Not even Gallium's. Just to note: we're not.
No one asked Gallium for the dance, because of her character. She would often throw a dart of bad words at people, here and there. And yet, as naive as she was, she was expecting a boy to ask her for the dance. The asking for a dance usually happened before the dance date. And then she was going to a different high school anyway, so the reputation effect was non-existent - approaching the limit of zero.
No one asked Anna and Phebe for the dance, because they did not care for it at that point. Anna had a boyfriend, but from a different school. Phebe secretly liked a boy, who liked her back, but the whole thing waited on a kilter for another next 10 years.
I did not feel comfortable near boys, remembering Norman was enough. To me every boy was a Norman.
No one cared about Phebe and me dancing, all 160 peers and teachers did not care. One girl knew professional ballroom dancing and she danced the dance with one teacher and everyone talked about them the whole night, because they danced beautifully as though professionals on tv.
Gallium and I attended different high schools later, we've met a few times and that was pretty much it. It's my fault, because I tend to stick around for a while, even if there was a negative incident - giving people too many chances to prove themselves. Remember Chubaka? she and I were friends since ever and we were finally not friends way later on in life. I don't give as many chances to people anymore, it's unhealthy.
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