Creative Writing: The Goth Girl

The Goth girl—Katelyn—said nothing; she just wore a mischievous smirk that curled up from around her pursed lips, her black lipstick giving her a sense of portentousness. “Right this way, Katelyn.” Mr. Shaller then said gesturing to her with one of his fingers, and they both began to walk out of the cafeteria together, Katelyn a few feet in front of him. I had assumed that she was on her way to the principal’s office. But as she walked in front of Mr. Shaller on her way out of the cafeteria, she turned back looking over her shoulder at me with a giggle and gave me a small smile, and I couldn’t help myself but to laugh a little myself and smile right back at her. After that, Erik, Donnie, Harlin, and the bitches pretty much kept to

When I had returned I placed the saucer down on the deck watching the cats take to it right away. While they were busy lapping up the milk I used the opportunity to go back inside the kitchen to look for some more of those cans of tuna that I’d found tucked away in one of the kitchen cupboards, but I couldn’t find any this time. So, I had mentioned to my mama—who was sitting at the kitchen table and appeared as if going through the newspaper—that we should pick up a bag of cat food for all the strays we had coming around the house. She said to me that she would, but she didn’t think it would be such a good idea to encourage the cats to be hanging around. That their presence would only piss off my step daddy to high heavens having our property be turned into a cats den. I then thought to myself, the hell with Step Daddy Cade. I like the cats. So, I made up my mind right then and there that the next time I made it into the village I would buy a bag of food, or cans, or whatever the hell cat food came in, and leave it tucked away in one of the cabinets in the garage where Step Daddy Cade would never find

Its shimmering blue paint was the color of the Gulf and its enormous chrome bumper and grill shined in the glaring sunlight blinding my eyes. I left the window and ran outside to take a closer look. “How-do-ya like my new ride?” Step Daddy Cade asked when he saw me come out of the house. Truthfully, I had never, had I ever, seen something so bitchin’ (In a good way, not in a Keri Mahan like way.) “It’s awesome!” I told him as I opened up the driver’s side door hopping up into the cab. “Can I take it for a ride?” I asked, to which of course, my Step Daddy Cade replied, “No... But, I can take you for a ride if you want? Besides, you still don’t have your driver’s license yet.” “Well, how can I get one if you and mama don’t ever let me drive anywhere?” I pouted. “I said I’ll take ya driven. Just not in this, okay. I’ll teach ya in the Pontiac. It’ll be good that ya learn with somethin’ smaller anyways. Figurin’ it will probably be yours now.” WHAT? I thought. The fucking Pontiac will be mine! You get an F-350 and I get the Family Truckster. Not even the Trans Am that I’d been promised. Boy, if my parents thought that I might be having a hard time making new friends now... Well, wait until everyone at school sees me pulling up in the pea-green