Gwen spent most of her time looking into the mirror. Every night, she’d push her cheeks back and run her fingers along her jaw, hoping if she rubbed hard enough, it would get sharper. She pinched her ear lobes between two fingers, wishing she’d wake up the next morning with pierced ears. She just wanted to be like the other girls in eighth grade, but when she asked Mama about piercing her ears, she said, “Why would you want cheap metal in your ears?”
Eventually, she’d move from her ears to her mouth, down to her shoulders, ending at her stomach. She didn’t like how it jutted out over her pants, or if she wore something high-waisted, the band would leave a red mark. Mama said that was a part of growing up, a lot of little girls have a “bit of a stomach,” but Gwen never noticed that at school. Mandy Jefferson would wear tops that cut off halfway down her torso, but they never showed her “bit of a stomach.” She was like a board, and boys seemed to like that. Even though she found an issue with most parts of her, Gwen did like her legs. She had long legs, longer than a lot of girls in her grade, which made her look older, and she liked that.
Winter was approaching, meaning Gwen could start wearing her thick sweaters and favorite sweatshirt that said “Silly Goose” on it. On Monday, Mama came to wake her up for school and said it was going to be chilly, so she’d have to layer up. Gwen smiled and jumped out of bed. She ran to her closet and pushed her T-shirts to the side. She grabbed her sweatshirt and shimmied into it. The neckline was worn, but the rest of it fit Gwen like a glove. It was long enough to not be cropped and also perfectly hid the bottom of her stomach. Gwen looked into the
mirror on her vanity for a moment before running downstairs and catching the bus. She gave Mama a quick kiss and ran out the door just in time. The bus doors creaked open, and Gwen got on, rushing towards the back but not deep enough where she’d be next to Billy Foley’s friends, and they’d make a comment. She sat down and rustled through her backpack to find her headphones. She put them on and was immediately at ease, letting the sound of a TV show she’d seen a hundred times drown out her peers.
***
After history, Gwen had gym class. It was the last period of the day, but it somehow felt like the longest. Starting this year, the school made a rule that all middle schoolers have to change before gym class: something about sweat rashes and body odor. When the rule first came into effect, Gwen panicked. She worked around it the first few times, going to the nurse with various “headaches” and “food poisoning spells,” but eventually, the gym teachers caught on.
That Monday, Gwen ran into the locker room, hoping to find a stall, but they were all taken. She saw some girls changing out in the open, but she chalked that up to insanity. Even though they debunked her last scheme, the gym teachers weren’t particularly perceptive. If she waited for the opportune moment and was quiet enough, she’d be able to exit the gym and spend the entire period in the second-floor bathroom. She could get in trouble, and Mama could get mad, but at least she wouldn’t have to change.
Gwen grabbed her bag and started slipping out of the locker room. She had one hand on the way out when she suddenly felt a tap on her shoulder. Mrs. Jackson was standing, her arms crossed, shaking her head. She pointed back at the locker room, and with no choice, Gwen followed the trail. She walked back in, head hung in shame, and, seeing that the stalls were still occupied, looked for an area away from everyone else.
She found a small section in the corner that was surrounded by lockers. At this angle, no one would be able to see her unless they walked closer, and in that case, she’d hear the footsteps. This was still a nightmare, but at least it was sort of manageable. Gwen slid one arm out of her sweatshirt sleeve and was about to remove the other when she heard a familiar voice. Abigail Henry was in the section of lockers closer to the door and began talking about Gwen. She must not have seen Gwen, or maybe she did, Abigail was known to be cruel at times. Gwen pushed her arm back into her sweatshirt and got closer to the voice.
Abigail’s best friend, Mariah, continued, “I heard she went to the nurse like ten times because she’s allergic to exercising.”
Gwen couldn’t see their faces, but she could hear Abigail’s laugh. A sort of chuckle that came out of her nose and was infused with pure condescension.
“Yeah, I think that’s pretty obvious, Mar.”
The other girls joined in, each presenting a uniquely cruel cackle. Gwen sat on the bench, pulling her knees up to her chest, hoping to get as small as possible and disappear. Every part of her body: her broad shoulders, unpierced ears, and clown feet all tensed up and didn’t move even when Mrs. Jackson told everyone to start warm-ups. Gwen heard footsteps approaching but closed her eyes, believing that if she didn’t engage, the mean girls would just walk away.
“Come on, Gwen, you have to get out there.” Gwen opened her eyes to see Mrs. Jackson looking both annoyed and full of pity.
Mrs. Jackson left, and all of Gwen’s feelings were replaced by the dread of Mama finding out she failed gym class. She jumped up and began taking off her sweatshirt when she heard a shuffle in the locker room. She peeked over and saw Abigail alone, tying her shoe. Even in the unkind locker room lighting, Abigail looked beautiful. Gwen was always jealous of her beautiful blonde hair. Gwen always wanted hair like that, but Mama refused to let her dye it.
The light dragged strawberry highlights to the surface, and even though Abigail’s hair was tied up, there was still a slight curl. Gwen didn’t find it fair how someone so ugly on the inside could have the curly blonde hair and beautiful blue eyes that Billy Foley liked. If Gwen had hair like that, Billy would like her too; she was kinder and better at math than Abigail Henry, she just had disgusting brown hair.
As her mind betrayed her, Gwen stepped closer to Abigail. The closer she got, the more the scent of rose touched her nose, it must have been coming from Abigail. Mama never let Gwen wear perfume; she said it was for older women, but Abigail was thirteen, too. Gwen took another step. Abigail finished tying her shoe and stood up, eventually turning to Gwen.
“Can I help you?”
Gwen said nothing, she just stood where she was.
“Okay, weirdo, can you get out of my way, some of us like gym class.”
A warm feeling moved from Gwen’s chest to her hand. In a swift moment, she walked to her bag, grabbed her scissors, and took a step towards Abigail. She paused for a moment, the sound of Abigail’s cackle refusing to leave her mind. Gwen walked next to Abigail, grabbed her ponytail, and cut a chunk out of it. She didn’t deserve to have beautiful, long blonde hair. Abigail screamed, and Gwen shoved the hair into her sweatshirt pocket.
***
They drove home in complete silence. Gwen had seen Mama mad a few times, but when she heard Gwen was suspended for the next week, her face went as red as her garden tomatoes. Gwen shoved her hand in her pocket, separating the strands of Abigail’s hair. Mama, Mrs. Jackson, and the principal all told her she should feel bad, but Gwen didn’t. The tension left her body the moment the scissors cut through the hair. Mama pulled into the driveway and sighed before getting out of the car. Gwen didn’t follow Mama inside but instead ran to the backyard. She knew she had to get rid of the hair, but throwing it away felt wrong.
Gwen walked into the garden, stepping past the cucumbers and basil. She went to the small patch of dirt where the spinach plant once was. This year, the plant became rotten the second it grew, so Mama got rid of it and never put anything else there, afraid it would be ruined, too. This was the perfect spot for Gwen’s prize. She began to claw at the dirt with her nails, eventually scooping piles out when the hole was big enough.
She grabbed the clump of hair from her pocket and watched as the sunlight ran through each strand. She shoved it into the hole in the ground and pushed the dirt back over it, making the blonde slightly brown. She took a nearby stick and shoved it in the middle of the “grave” so she would remember exactly where she put it. Gwen rubbed her dirty hands off on her pants and headed back inside.
That night, Mama kept up with the silent treatment. Gwen liked it better when she was yelling at her because then, at least, they were talking. After a quiet dinner, Gwen went up to her room. Usually, she’d go scroll through Instagram, and practice makeup looks she saw on there, but her mom took her laptop and phone. All Gwen could do was look into the mirror until her features stopped looking like hers and were just what they were: thin lips, a large nose, muddy eyes, and bushy eyebrows. Gwen fell asleep early that night, hoping Mama would be less mad in the morning and she’d have someone to talk to during her suspension.
***
Gwen woke up the next morning to the chorus of “Vienna” by Billy Joel. Mama only listened to music when she cleaned, and she only cleaned when she was stressed. After the look Mama gave her yesterday, Gwen was not surprised that she needed a little relief. Since Mama was cleaning the rest of the house, Gwen thought it’d only be fair for her to clean her bathroom. A gesture like this might make Mama happy and talkative again. Gwen stumbled out of bed and shuffled over to the bathroom, her eyes half closed. She turned the light on and crouched down to get the cleaning supplies. As she reached the bottom cabinet, something felt off.
She stood up slowly, and even though it was her typical routine, something inside screamed louder for her to look in the mirror. She opened her eyes and was met by a version of her she’d only seen in her dreams. Beautiful blonde locks flowed down to her shoulders. Gwen spun around and took the image in from all angles. The overhead lights perfectly highlighted the reddish hues in her hair, and the front pieces framed what she used to think was a long face but now looked normal. Gwen ran her fingers through the familiar hairdo because it looked exactly like Abigail’s. She closed her eyes tight and pried them open, hoping that a miracle occurred and she wasn’t actually asleep.
She walked back into her room and threw her sweatshirt over her pajamas, making sure the hood covered her hair so Mama wouldn’t be mad. She shoved her feet into her sneakers and ran down the stairs toward the backyard. Gwen slowed down for a moment as she saw her mom dancing along to Prince while she cleaned the windows in the kitchen. Gwen crept around the scene and closed the door behind her, making sure it didn’t slam. She went through the tomatoes and looked for the grave marker. She found the stick and began scooping. She clawed through the dirt until the hole became the biggest it ever was. There was no hair. Gwen’s new do didn’t just look like Abigail’s; it was her’s.
A smile spread across Gwen’s face, and her cheeks got hot. This was one of those things she secretly prayed about when Mama wasn’t listening, and even though she was a believer, she never truly expected this outcome.
Gwen began tiptoeing back into the house until she realized Mama moved on to the living room. She quickly grabbed the biggest knife in the block and shoved it into her pocket; it barely fit but still worked. The bus came to a wailing stop outside. Gwen ran to the coat rack and took her bookbag. Making up to Mama would have to wait, Gwen had to go to school.
The bus driver nodded to Gwen as she got on. A few classmates had a shocked expression; they must have heard about what happened the day before. Gwen contemplated going back home, but as her hand tightened around the knife’s handle, she decided to sit in the back of the bus. She sat down and pulled off her hood, the blonde curls tumbling down. Frankie Mackson whispered something to Tommy Park, but Gwen couldn’t make most words. All she heard was “crazy.”
Gwen stood up before the bus came to a complete stop, ensuring she was the first one off. Abigail was sitting on a bench in front of the school, her hair barely coming down past her ears. Tears were tumbling down her cheeks, and she was being comforted by Mariah Jones, Clarissa Addams, and Mandy Jefferson, other beautiful and popular girls in the grade, the ones Gwen suspected were laughing alongside Abigail yesterday.
The bell rang, and all of the girls started walking towards the front entrance, except for Clarissa Addams. She yelled something Gwen couldn’t hear, but it allowed her to slip away while everyone else walked to class. Gwen followed Clarissa around the building towards the back, where students were not allowed. Clarissa looked around, nervous, before walking down a staircase. Gwen snuck around and stood behind a tree.
She knew she couldn’t be seen, and she had a great view of Clarissa kissing Kyle Decker. Gwen didn’t know much about Clarissa, but she did once hear a couple of boys talking about how Clarissa had already kissed 100 boys and was a really good kisser. Gwen hadn’t even kissed one boy; she couldn’t imagine kissing 100. She didn’t know what made for a “good kiss,” but Kyle Decker seemed to agree with the other boys.
Kyle quickly checked his phone and, realizing the time, started running up the stairs. Clarissa didn’t immediately join him. Instead, she pulled a compact out of her large purse and started applying lipstick. Gwen thought it looked beautiful; Mama never let her use lipstick, she thought it sent the wrong message. Clarissa continued applying, turning her back to the staircase. Gwen gripped the knife in her pocket and walked closer to Clarissa.
Maybe now, boys would want to kiss her, too.
She put a hand on Clarissa’s shoulder and spun her around. Clarissa seemed scared for a moment, her brows furrowing until she realized it was Gwen touching her. The corners of her mouth started to turn up in a way that mesmerized Gwen. In a moment, Gwen brandished the knife, pulled down Clarissa’s top lip, and sliced. A piercing screech leaped from Clarissa, and she threw her hands up to her mouth. Blood ran from the open wound down her chin. Panicked, Clarissa tried to climb up the wall since Gwen was blocking her only exit. She continued screaming, which dragged Gwen back to reality. If Mama found out, she would be so mad. Gwen turned Clarissa back around and pinned her up against the wall with her knee. Clarissa flayed and tried to escape, but Gwen had five inches on her, which proved to be crucial.
Gwen grabbed Clarissa’s bottom lip and elbowed away Clarissa’s slapping hands. The knife lost some of its bite, forcing Gwen to saw away at the bottom lip. Clarissa’s tears began to mix with the blood, staining Gwen’s sleeve. Gwen paused for a moment, staring as the concoction spread down her arm. Once again, her cheeks got hot. She raised the knife and quickly slid it across Clarissa’s neck. After a minute of gurgling and grasping, Clarissa lay lifeless on the ground. Gwen looked through Clarissa’s bag and found the lipstick: “rendezvous,” fitting. Gwen put everything in her bookbag and walked up the stairs, leaving the best kisser on the concrete.
Although the administration took her punishment seriously, Gwen knew it would not be hard to sneak into the school. The man at the front desk: Tony was either watching baseball highlights on his phone or stealing snacks from the teacher’s lounge. Sometimes, when Gwen would skip gym class and go to the nurse, she’d exit the building and take a stroll outside to clear her head. Tony only saw her leave one time, and when he did, he pretended he didn’t. Now, Gwen opened the door a crack to ensure no one from the principal’s office would find her. She bent down slightly, running past Tony while he yelled at the Cubs for their lack of intelligence.
She went into the bathroom and hid in the farthest stall from the entrance. She opened her bag and looked at the lipstick, admiring the pink shade, a color she never thought she’d wear before. Gwen continued looking at the label, the blood on her hands making it extra slick. Her fingers gave way, causing the lipstick to fall onto the ground and roll out of the stall. As it made its way towards the sink, someone else entered the bathroom. A pair of high-heeled black boots stood outside of Gwen’s stall, and the person reached down to pick up the lipstick.
“Riss, I know that’s you. No one else wears this ridiculous shade. What are you doing in there? Come out.”
Gwen knew the boots belonged to Mandy Jackson. She had a low, melodic voice and was always calling Clarissa “Riss.” Gwen debated her next action when Mandy started pulling on the door that Gwen forgot to lock. The door swung open, revealing Gwen holding a bag, looking like she had just been found with the body.
“Gwen? I thought you were suspended.”
Mandy was wearing another crop top and high-waisted jeans. Gwen hadn’t worn jeans since the fifth grade; she never found a way to feel comfortable in them. But when Mandy wore jeans, she looked grown up and had enough confidence to seem like she was. Gwen watched as Mandy’s eyes went from Gwen’s face down to her blood-soaked sleeves. Mandy’s eyes widened, and her mouth started to drop. She took one step towards the door, one that would lead to people finding Clarissa and Gwen getting in trouble.
Gwen left her own body and was suddenly watching another person make her decisions, protecting her. This person grabbed the knife, dug it into Mandy, and dragged it across her stomach in between where her shirt ended and pants began. The line on her stomach started growing, the rich maroon color spreading across her torso.
Unlike Clarissa, Mandy didn’t immediately start screaming; it could have been due to stress, it could have also been the fact that after slicing her stomach open, the person also cut her throat; they didn’t want her yelling for help. Mandy grabbed at her neck, trying to keep the pieces of her skin together. As more blood poured out of her stomach and pulled her small intestine with it, Mandy attempted a scream and weakly pawed at her belly button. She tried shoveling everything back in, but her arms gave up, eventually retreating to her sides while she slunk to the tile.
Mandy’s head started falling backward, the wound gaining even more surface area. Gwen returned to her body just in time to stop her shoes from soaking up too much blood. She stepped out of the puddle and grabbed a bunch of paper towels from the dispenser. She threw them onto the floor next to Mandy, stepped on them, and got slightly closer. She reached further into Mandy’s stomach and pulled out more of her small intestine. Gwen held onto the handle of the knife while she whipped it behind her, hoping some of the blood would fly off, making it easier to cut into Mandy’s guts. She took a piece of the small intestine; maybe now Gwen would be able to wear crop tops. She put the piece into her backpack and shoved the knife back into her pocket, pleasantly surprised by how little blood was on her this time.
Gwen backed out of the bathroom just in time for the bell to ring. Her palms got sweaty as she looked for an escape plan. There was an empty classroom next to the bathroom, the perfect place to hide out for a moment. Gwen opened the door, surprised when a voice greeted her.
“You’re supposed to be on house arrest, psycho.” Mariah Jones looked up from her test tubes and beakers. It was getting too convenient.
“Mariah? What are you doing here?” Gwen reached into her pocket and gripped the knife.
“I’m making up a lab. I’m also allowed to be here. I didn’t cut someone’s hair like an obsessed creep.” She smirked and went back to her work, unaware just how deep her words cut. Gwen wanted to show her just how deep.
Gwen walked towards the table, and Mariah took a step back. “Wait, did you get your hair done exactly like Abby’s? Oh god, that’s pathetic.”
One summer, Mariah came back to school with a smaller nose. Gwen never thought it was too big before; she liked the fact that Mariah’s nose resembled hers, but when Mariah changed it, Gwen thought maybe she should change her’s too.
The right corner of Gwen’s mouth rose. “You have a great nose.”
Mariah’s eyebrow raised, and Gwen noticed her reaching for her phone; that couldn’t happen. Gwen ran around the table towards Mariah. Mariah caught on quickly and started running for the door, but Gwen was too fast. She pulled Mariah backward and threw her onto the floor. With Mariah on the floor, Gwen got on top of her and pinned her down with her knees and an arm. She got Mariah to squirm less but couldn’t completely stop her; Mariah was definitely the strongest of her friends.
Gwen took her free arm, grabbed the knife, and pressed it against Mariah’s nose. Mariah started screaming, but the sound was being drowned out by the noise of their peers. Gwen took the other arm off of Mariah, using just her knees to pin her down. She placed one hand on top of the other and pressed. The knife was halfway through Mariah’s nose when Mariah passed out. Gwen was shocked by how hard cartilage truly was. A flood of fluids gushed from the hole in Mariah’s face. Gwen got off of her, put the nose in her bag, and got lost in the crowd.
The final bell was about to ring, signifying the end of the day. Gwen found herself back in the locker room, looking for the girl with beautiful blue eyes. Not only was Abigail the last one on the gym floor, but she was always the last one out. She had to make sure her hair looked perfect and would even change into an entirely new outfit. Gwen stood behind her, the knife out and to her side. Gwen always wanted blue eyes. Abigail had the iciest blue eyes; she even had nice teeth and thin eyebrows.
Gwen had a plan; it was just a matter of what exactly she wanted.
Connect with Jessica Daniliuk
Instagram: @jmdaniliuk
Author Website: https://www.jessicadaniliuk.com/
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