Why I Shouldn't Have Hid Brittany's Boots.
“Brittany is a snot nosed brat!” Proclaimed my ten year old self through gritted teeth to a stuffed bear. “I'll get her back for throwing my Darth Vader necklace off the bench!” I was a vengeful young one. Which is a rather explosive combination considering that I was quite a smooth talker when it comes to trouble. Not like I was some sorta bad-ass bully I just took things really personal. Take my yogurt at snack time? I thought a punch to the eye was an equal trade.
Brittany was my sworn arch enemy in elementary school, she and her friends liked Hilary Duff and I was still listening to my moms country albums and singing the Grease soundtrack. They liked the movie Mean Girls and I was quoting Star Wars. They were princess's; I was a werewolf. Whenever Brittany would make fun of me I would run home crying and wouldn't be able to think of a comeback until I was lying in bed getting ready to sleep. “Yeah you think my superman shirt is stupid? Well your house smells like soup!”
I was sick of crying and I wanted my revenge. The next day I rushed out for recess early but instead of putting my boots on right away I hid Brittany's purple puffy moon boots behind the recycle bin. I ran around the corner and peered with wide eyes. My ten year old self thought hearing Brittany's tone of panic would make me feel better for all the things that she had done. An eye for an eye right? I was wrong; I started to feel horrible and rushed over and happened to “find” the boots. She thought she had misplaced the boots and I thought that Brittany would be over joyed that I had found them and would thank me by wanting to be my friend! I was also wrong about that. Brittany instead; snatched the boots out of my good-doing hopeful young hands. For the first time I wasn't crying; I figured that it wasn't worth it. Sometimes doing the right thing doesn't reward you in any way other then not being friends with a girl who's house smells like soup.
Rams and Hearts
Joan Gabriel
