Has anyone ever told you that your fucking ugly
Sylvia stood in front of the mirror, exasperated. She shuffled from one foot to the other absent-mindedly, tugging on her skirt, trying to make it fit, but it was no use. Pencil skirts simply weren’t designed to be worn by trolls, and deep down, she knew that – but it wasn’t going to stop her from trying. She got closer to the mirror and peered at her reflection worriedly, examining her hairy nostrils. Her bright green snout seemed to have almost doubled in size overnight. She sighed. It was so hard being a teenage troll.
The sky outside was beginning to darken, and in the distance, a lone wolf started to howl. Sylvia looked around her bedroom as the all too familiar feeling of desperation swelled in her vast, troll belly. She spotted a patch of mould growing in the corner and caressed it fondly. ‘You understand me,’ she whispered coquettishly to the sprouting green tufts. The mould did not respond. Sylvia frowned and turned away.
Defeated, she slumped down at her desk. ‘I need a distraction,’ she said out-loud, to no-one in particular. She turned to her computer and opened up a web browser, scrolling through Facebook and Twitter listlessly, her eyes glazing over. The more she scrolled, the worse she felt. She didn’t know what to do. How was she supposed to suppress such intense feelings of self-pity and loathing?
Suddenly, she sat bolt upright.
She went to the top of the page and began to type.
‘www.lucyelizabeth.tumblr.com/ask.’
She began to pant excitedly. Her nostrils began to flare and she started snorting uncontrollably, overcome by the sheer brilliance of her idea. Little bubbles of spit gathered at the corners of her mouth, foaming down her chin, forming a tiny green puddle in her lap.
The page loaded, and a wicked grin spread slowly across her face. She clenched her fists, ready to deliver the first blow.
‘Has anyone ever told you that you’re…’
She stopped typing suddenly, her brows furrowed. That word didn’t look right. She chewed her lip nervously, pulse quickening. What was wrong? She deleted the word and tried again.
There, much better. An intense feeling of relief washed over her. Thank goodness for her impeccable grammar skills.
She finished typing and sat back, victorious.
‘Has anyone ever told you that your fucking ugly’
She stared, awe-struck, at the masterpiece in front of her. Blinking back happy tears, she braced herself, then hit send with a triumphant click.
A rush of adrenaline hit her and she began to laugh; a deep, throaty cackle that would send tremors down even the sturdiest of spines. The words she’d just written were a work of art – there was no doubt about it. People would travel for miles to see the very room in which this glorious act took place. Who knew nine simple words could be so life-changing? Her masterpiece would be hanging in a museum in no time. Maybe she could make a few photocopies and put them on eBay? No harm there, surely. Either way, the financial gain was going to be extraordinary. She could probably retire off of this; move to a nice big house in the countryside, purchase a couple of acres. She could breed horses and sheep, have a few cows here and there, maybe even hire a gardener…
A car whizzed past the window, jolting her awake from her daze.
‘Now now, Sylvia, you’re getting ahead of yourself,’ she chuckled gleefully into the dusk, dollar signs glistening in her eyes. ‘One step at a time, one step at a time…’
She turned back to the computer screen and refreshed the page. Lucy wasn’t online yet, but she would be soon. And then, all hell would break loose. She couldn’t wait.
‘That’ll teach her,’ Sylvia whispered savagely, stuffing a finger up her nose and wiping the remnants on her skirt nonchalantly. ‘That’ll show her who’s boss.’
baratheonpilled
pixelskylines
prguitarman
izzy806
