Police Officer: So, there was a viral video?
Me: There were multiple.
***
"Oh my god. Are you alright?" said Lyssa. Sunny woke up with the purple around her eyes starting to harden into a thick black crust. The discoloration caused by broken blood vessels under her skin formed a patch of bruises.
"It's nothing," Sunny said, touching her face all over. "We play dodge ball and sometimes I get hit in the face."
"What about your lips? They're... so cut." That was one of Sunny's bad habits. Biting her lips to cure nervousness.
"The dodge ball hit my braces, and the metal cuts it. It's really fine though."
"What? Are you kidding? This is really—"
"We're going to be late!" Sunny rushed out the door, and Lyssa followed out of obligation. The meat of their day began, driven by frustration.
***
Sunny stayed out by the front yard until Selena arrived, aspiring that she'd come over. Either she never noticed, or she noticed but chose not to care. Sunny stood staring at Selena, who was being greeted on the way to school each morning, circulated by her guffawing friends. She broke out into a group and very quickly became absorbed in her own affairs.
Sunny studied just enough to get the grades her mother expected of her, and spent the rest of her free time daydreaming about Selena.
You can't just become friends with somebody and then leave.
***
After school, Sunny arrived perusal to her locker. The rusty lock stuck a bit but eventually, the door swung open.
And surprise.
Yellow. Yellow sticky notes everywhere. They covered all four walls and were arranged messily, remiss-fully in all directions. They were so bright of neon that you couldn't look at them for more than a few seconds without getting neuralgia.
Sunny shifted her head around like a moth, scanning the few notes that faced upwards: a few bolded swear words, then some more, and then...she gulped. Somebody had put these here to make her look stupid. She peered over her left shoulder, and then her right for the groups of evil kids pointing at her. Nobody.
Sunny looked menaced.
The textbooks fell from her chest. She was enticed by the notes; her body was in a twitter: perturbed, neurotic, edgy, highly-strung.
Sunny picked up a bright yellow one. Her legs melted into strawberry jello. It read:
Is this neon too yellow for you? Well, that's how much it stings looking at you every day.
She blinked, quaffed her spit. The blood rushed up to her cheeks. She took off another one.
What's the problem with an Asian pet store? There's always a kitchen in the back!!!
The writing was bad, the letters jagged, the sentence dragged out, careless. Bad-ass. Sunny ripped off another note and used all the strength she had to battle the words that cut her like knives. Her heart went insane until it became just one long, unable-pause, rhythmic beat. She looked afraid, mostly because she was being spat on like a hairball, stepped on like dirt. It was starting to make her uncomfortable, starting to make Sunny resent living in her own skin.
Sunny swallowed bitterly and reached for the last note.
A Chinese guy is riding in a truck. Who's driving? Immigration. GO THE F*** HOME.
Just as Sunny was about to turn around and go home, a click. A click.
Wait, what was that? Sunny looked around, a shadow swayed. Her heart stopped mid-beat. She began searching for an anchor for her psyche but failed to find it. Click. The noise came from behind this time. She turned. A figure moved.
"Who is it?"
Silence.
"Come out, I know you're there." Slowly, a figure rose from her hands and knees. An iPhone in her palms, the girl walked forward.
"Jeez, you scared the crap out of me Selena," Sunny said, starting to breathe again. Without saying a word, she brought the phone back in front of her face and motioned Sunny: tilt your head right. Click. "What are you doing? Stop it." Sunny used her right hand to block her face, but it was too late.
"Aw, looks like somebody was crying. Boo hoo boo hoo."
"Delete it," Sunny said.
"Why? I think you look great. Eyes puffy. Oh, so vulnerable." Her smile was contorted with contempt and her upper lip curled with distaste and disdain. The rest of the Kitties came out from behind the lockers. They all sneer at Sunny. Selena never looked more evil.
"This isn't funny. Delete it. Please" The pain of this oscillating friendship that made her laugh and cry. Sunny found herself beset by an awfully large crowd. Attacked from all directions, Sunny could not move.
"Ha-ha-ha. Who do you think you are? CHINK." Selena with her flawless face and shiny blonde hair had wicked words. Callie, standing fragilely beside her had cheeks flushing the color of red velvet.
"Take it easy on her Selena," she added quietly. But Selena pretended like she didn't hear. "You know what you are? You are just a little disgusting Asian freak," said Selena, very close to Sunny's face. She could feel her rough breath tickle her flat nose.
Selena continued to shout, tossing words and other gibes at the girl who offered herself up to humiliation. She was putting Sunny down by insulting her character because it made her feel good. It healed the damaged part of her. The sick part of her. It shot excitement up her veins. Nobody could stop her.
Sunny bit her lip, chewed her thumbnail. She squeezed it so that the blood accumulated in a perfect sphere before it collapsed and slid toward the palm of her hand. Sunny pressed the edge of her shirt into the cut. It flooded red. But she felt nothing. Nothing hurt except for the fake small smile and blush on Selena's face, pretending to be her friend one minute and then ripping out Sunny's heart the next. Ouch.
Sunny was locked in a mean-spirited, bitter argument. It was an acrimonious situation that would result in fists flying unless they both cooled down.
Selena's face was so loathsome and odious. With her flay trap hands, Selena slapped her. The Kitties ticked their heels and leave Sunny by the locker with tears oozing down her bruised face and bleeding lip. Wicked laughter.
They were skinny, but they sure knew how to brawl.
***
The loneliness was beginning to become an echo chamber for her pain.
It was a vice on her heart, squeezing with just enough pressure to be a constant pain. It killed her every day just a little bit more, taking what was once her inner light and replacing it with liquorish dark shadows. It fueled her nightmares and was the reason she struggled to breathe everything a new shock came.
The lavender scars indented in her cheeks occasionally made Sunny breathless with anger. But Lyssa always told her that weak people revenge and strong people forgive. She forgave but did not forget.
***
Sunny couldn't have the real company of those who loved her, so she coped and healed by fostering a strong lust and desire for Selena. The only class they had together was PE. The teacher was explaining the rules for dodgeball, but Sunny wasn't listening. She just kept staring at Selena's back on the bleacher in front of her, trying to make her look back at her.
She didn't, and even after everything she had done, Sunny longed, even more, to sit with her. Her stomach fluttered.
PE Class ended and all the girls swarmed like hornets into the tiny brown box, called the change room.
They surrounded the mirror, obsessively fighting for one last glimpse of their artificial reflections. Some were trying to put their contact lenses in, others were applying fresh coats of mascara under their eyes. Sunny tried to be completely cool. Think of the snow, the winter.
Sunny kept looking at Selena, who popped off the counter to go into one of the stalls. Sunny turned away and realized that Callie had a locker next to hers.
"Nice video."
"What?"
"Ha-ha-ha. It's like everywhere." Sunny was befuddled. Was there another one? Sunny didn't know how to respond partly because she had no idea what Callie was talking about.
"On Instagram. You're hashtag famous. Your welcome."
"You did this?"
"Duh."
"Why?"
"For money."
"Money?"
"A-D-S. Ads pay for your stupid, ugly, puffy face."
"Was this Selena's idea?"
"Duh."
"You guys are close?"
"Well, we have shared interest for booze and boys, and we're both Kitties. So yeah, I guess," she said, her voice particularly shallow. Callie didn't mind changing clothes in public. She was comfortable changing from a sports bra to her normal bra without blushing or turning around to hide.
She didn't worry about the comments about her boobs or rear end. And she didn't need to. There was simply nothing to pick at.
Just as the two were conversing, Selena walked out of the bathroom. Her eyeliner was clearly uneven, but nobody said anything. Sunny remembered that she was the Queen around here. Callie saw Selena and quickly ended the conversation.
"Anyway, gotta go, coolie."
***
Another video had been posted. 608 likes. One of which was from Selena. Sunny barely recognized herself in that rough condition. Pushed up against the locker, face full of rashes, eyes were swollen. Sticky notes everywhere. Sunny slammed the phone onto the bed as hard as she could, and started to bawl, re-living the scornful moment.
She used to think that she was built capable of heavy doses of rejection, but at that moment, that small setback seemed to of knocked her sideways. It hit her deep, and the tears came flooding in with the loneliness.
Sunny wanted to crush the screen between her palms, run to Lyssa and cry. But how could she ruin her bright smile? How could she tear apart her beautiful, kind heart? Her mother's delicious lambs, her caring grin. No. There was no way she could tell her.
I watched her from the side, burying her head inside the already soaking pillow. I could tell she was pushed to the edge where a kind of determination was rising. It was untamed, uncontrollable, feral, savage, and it turned her reflection into nothing less than that of a groundless ogre.
10 PM. 11 PM. 12 PM. She had stopped crying, finally. Just then, barely past midnight, from her bedroom, she heard the front door unlock. Heavy footsteps told her that it had to be Hiram. He came in and turned on the television. Clink, clink, clink— dropped ice cubes in a glass and poured in some rum, then plopped himself down by the couch.
The volume on the TV cranked up and Sunny heard a woman speak of bullying. High school bullying. Then the channel switched. Hiram was obviously bored. But the same stories played out channel after channel. Somehow, it could not be escaped. Then, the whole television turned off. Seconds later, she heard a slurping sound, the trickling of alcohol, clicking of the glass, and a rustling of tired feet. Heavy steps made her wonder if he was bearing some kind of weight. Like a secret or two that ate away at his vitality under the starry night. Then silence.
Sunny closed her eyes. No amount of sleep in the world could cure the tiredness Sunny felt. Every thought was a battle, every breath was a war, and Sunny, she wasn't winning anymore.
The forest outside was dark and all the butterflies have broken wings. The night expanded its black angel shield, protecting the earth as she dreamed. Beneath the noble starry black, Sunny rubbed her almond eyes and brushed her black hair over her ear.
That was when I knew she was an unerring eye for the despicable motive in actions that had all the appearance of innocence. She was not going to let pain turn her heart into something ugly. She was going to show everybody that surviving can be beautiful.