Imperfect, Perfect.

EMERALD'S POV Thursdays are an absolute waste of my time. Always have been. There is nothing more draining than being trapped in a room full of dumb kids who play and spend all the time laughing and giggling around over dumb jokes. To make my miserable day worse, my right sock is completely damp, squelching inside my loafer every time I moved my leg. It was Bella's fault, of course– the freak just had to pour her juice box near my desk. I didn’t cry or throw tantrums like the other kids would–so dumb. I’m ten years old and I know how to wait. Instead, I waited until recess, took her cheap canvas sneakers from her cupboard and submerged them in the bathroom sink until water ran cold through the fabric. Set them back exactly where they were.. I felt better after that. Not happy, exactly. Just– even.. I have always hated her guts. Maybe it’s the way people gathered around her like she was a star and praise her over the bare minimum like her eyes, you are so cute, bla–bla and then the way she smiles unnecessarily just gets on my nerves or maybe it’s the fact that she and I know she’s a bully hiding under the disguise of being pretty and friendly. Cassandra would be a living testimony, but she’s just too dumb and weak to even come outside playing the good side. I don’t know why people don’t see that side of her and know that their little miss perfect is just a mean s**t. No way will I allow a freak like her to get to me. Honestly, School is so boring, As a ten years old, I knew I will prefer sitting in on one of father’s board meetings – all those suits arguing back and forth over numbers, dead quiet except for the arguments — than endure a minute more in this school. I stood up to walk out when something caught my eye near the doorway: a slippery banana peel discarded on the floor. And right on cue, here comes Bella, completely clueless, heaving, charging at me. That’s the thing about Bella – she’s so full of herself that she feels like she owns the world cause she’s pretty. A sudden spark of excitement . My eyes widened. Oh, this is so going to be fun. Will she fall and split her chin or will she not? was the first thought that came to my head. Warning her never crossed my mind. I didn’t care if she broke a bone. I just leaned against the lockers, tracking the distance and began my countdown. One Minute. Sixty seconds. Forty seconds... I snapped my fingers and like a wave, that was twenty seconds, she fell down and screamed so loud that my eardrums suffered an assault and brought two more other kids to the spot. I watched fascinated as the blood started dripping from the gatch of her head like a low pressure tap. Not doing anything. I just watched with piqued interest when it stopped again. A thought kept coming to my head. If I pressed more on the gatch on her forehead will it bring more blood? Will she scream the more? Then she looked at me like I was some devil with those eyes that I hated the most(innocent eyes) when she’s just a devil herself . I ignored her as I just stood there basking in her pain and agony, then she started screaming the more like I was the peel on the floor that made her slip, Typical Bella, still making it all about herself. The teachers and students ran to the spot and the place became crowded with everyone fawning over her. Not me though, it makes me more excited seeing her suffer and in pain. This is no more fun again, they just had to ruin the game. I thought as I walked out still remembering the way the blood flowed from her forehead and the way it stopped. I couldn’t fight the excitement of trying a theory on her kept little rabbit at the school garden. It was a far place from here with no camera. I have always hated the rabbit too maybe because she found it and people kept calling it hers or the fact that the rabbit didn’t also like me. Well that makes the two of us then. I walked pass the game store carefully, I didn’t want anyone seeing me not because I fear a rebuke or not. I just want Bella to suffer knowing an unknown person did this to her beloved rabbit. Oh here it is, looking at me with those Bella’s eyes. What was it about catching preys, setting a bait. I poured my milk juice into the rabbit bowl. I watched as the rabbit got closer to it’s bowl excitedly. As gluttonous as her owner. Oh Bella, see your lovely rabbit begging for milk from the very person you dislike the most. I got ready my pen knife as it got closer as I stabbed it into the rabbit legs as blood gushed out and it howled out in pain. It looked like as it wanted to kill me. Well, that’s not my fault?. That’s the thing about being weak , you become a prey to strong people. Blame yourself for being weak and having a owner like Bella. I stabbed it again on the other leg and it howled more in pain. The screams were like melodies to my ears. Then the real fun part was when it just curled to one side of the den like it was waiting for a saviour like in those books they forced us to read in class. I brought out the injection Dad uses to keep Mom asleep when he brings his other women into the house. I injected as I watched it go limp, no movement, no sight of life apart from the chest movements. I opened the den and grabbed it by its neck and squeezed the neck bit by bit as I could feel it getting more limper with no resistance. This is so fun and exciting, as I imagined it being Bella’s neck as I squeezed harder. Then I heard it — you are going to kill it – and my brain clicked. “Someone else is here.”