the looser




it was her, her attempt to show kindness made him feel weak. Why should I appear vulnerable to someone like you? Timmy price thought on his way home from school. When others had laughed at her, he'd teased right along with them. He hated her smug and self satisfied look of happiness, the bliss that seemed to vibrate from her, why was she so happy,? It made him jealous, it made him angry. He wanted to be like that. Wanted to be Loeffler no reason but having a buoyant personality, wanted people to respect him, and yet he had nothing to show for it, nothing that meant he should acquire that respect. Today somehow as he'd canvassed the playground he'd managed to feel both angry and empty, people like her, he would chant to himself, people like her, they make me so angry, yet he could never tell anyone the real reason s why. That when she spoke in that clear voice with a tiny of a posh accent, it made him feel dumb, or why he's told his friends to take glue across her hair was because she looked so pretty in that blue Valentine dress and Rupert mulch was looking at her in a way he never could. Had conversations with her about things he didn't know about,and it made him feel dumb once again, that his squad of a mind was a motorbike without any engine oil, and it made him twist his fingers with annoyance, wrap his knuckles across the door handle of the wooden framed door, storm out of class, taking in heavy breaths as the rage turned into a purple cloud consuming him, as though he were on some illegal high.yet there was no happiness to this feeling, the more miserable ski Lorraine Williams felt, the angrier he got, as though she were betraying some pedestal he'd placed her on. Reality was a bitch, and the fact that ski had no idea as to why she was the target of his campaign. Made him identify her as weak, and her misery never did make him happy. The more miserable she got, the more desolate he felt, as though he were also being sucked into a vacuume. Yet he couldn't resist the deliciousness of such ripe fruit the power he got from making someone else feel as small as he felt, as ashamed as he felt, as desperate as he felt. They were both on an island with no reality to turn to, yet he yearned to jump into the cool fresh water and burst his lungs open with salt. That's how it felt to be him these days. To look in the mirror and see nothing more than a shadow of his former self. There were bags under his eyes from the exhaustion of thoughts that roamed like spiders, a mark on his back, from all the lies he had told to both destroy and yet try and claim the attention of an incomprehensible thing. in years to come people would ask him if he enjoyed selling his true identity for a false self, with false respect, from false associates, the reality was he hadn't been happy for a long time. In alienating her, he had separated his two selves, and lived with a person he no longer recognised, himself. He'd read an article once that talked about bullying, he had been bullied by mothers,sisters, brothers, the lowest person in his social hierarchy, and yet now things had changed he'd felt more miserable now than he'd ever felt.  With false power comes fake responsibility, ski never spoke to him in the years that followed, and as she began to arise a Phoenix from the ashes, he realised it was a hatred he felt for himself. The inability to be as perfect as the delusions he'd created.

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