Betsy

So I've been debating for awhile on whether I should share this or not. Mainly because this isn't really about a crazy killer, some unearthly monster, or some creepy situation. This is a story about a girl, a girl named Betsy Cox. Since this story is being told through my perspective you won't be able to get the full experience of what happened. But still I feel the need to say something because Betsy is a part of a group of people who have been unfairly discriminated against for centuries.

I never really noticed Betsy at first since our social circles rarely ever collided with one another. I was, I guess, a popular kid; a jock of sorts. I was on varsity basketball but I usually spent most of the game on the bench then I did on the court. It wasn't because I was terrible or anything; actually I was quite good considering the majority of the school population went in for tryouts. I'm probably exaggerating but believe me when I say that most kids would prefer sitting on the benches then sitting in the bleachers. If I had to guess, kids like knowing that they belong somewhere, that they're needed. It's not unfounded either; each and every game I attend I always find that my heart is racing whether I'm on the court or not.

But I've already said this story is about Betsy, not me, so I'll stop dancing around it. Like I said before, I was considered a popular kid which meant that Betsy. . . . was unpopular. I hesitate writing that because I never saw the sense behind it. Betsy Cox was without a doubt, the most beautiful girl I've ever seen. She practically glowed! Still, the kids in our school treated her as if she was nothing. I guess it's unfair of me to hate them for it since I never did anything to stop them from tormenting her. It wasn't just the jocks who bullied her; it was the thespians, the mathematicians, the goths, the skaters, the geeks, the freaks, and anyone else who wanted to use Betsy as their personal punching bag.

I was surprised she never just killed herself.

It can get awfully lonely when the whole world seems bent on making your life a living hell.

It really came to a head during a school dance. It was October 28th, and the school was hosting a little Halloween celebration. The student council had been lobbing for it since the election. You'd think they'd have better things to discuss. Anyway, we were encouraged to come dressed in the costumes we'd be wearing on Halloween night. Now I'm guessing that you assumed that everybody came dressed in normal clothes, well, you'd be right if the school didn't have a required uniform. Besides, if the school gave you permission to come to school dressed in your birthday suit, wouldn't you at least be tempted? So everyone came dressed in a costume and after school the dance began. Of course it started a bit slowly, everyone too shy to be the first one the dance floor, but soon enough everyone was hopping, singing, and doing whatever you'd consider dancing.

I didn't think she'd come, actually part of me prayed she wouldn't, but to everyone's surprise Betsy Cox had arrived. The dance was being held in the school gymnasium, and the doors you use to enter creak loud to awake the dead. Of course Betsy came in when the previous song, Timber by Kesha, had just ended. Everyone turned to see Betsy dressed in long black cloak and carrying a makeshift wand. It looked like something you'd see in one of the Harry Potter movies. My face turned pale, nobody laughed, but that just told me that they were waiting for the teachers to look away.

I quickly lost Betsy in the crowd of children as I sank back into my own crowd. I was with my friends Amara and Doug who were dressed as a convict and a penguin. I was dressed up like Indiana Jones.

"I can't believe she's here." Amara said as she drank from a small plastic cup.

"It's like she's a glutton for punishment." Doug said shaking his head.

"I just don't understand why everyone hates her." I was surprised I actually said this, I still am. I had always wondered why people bullied her but I never thought to ask why. I don't know why I never asked, it's not like I thought I'd be put down or anything, it just never occurred to me.

My friends looked at me in befuddlement, did I say something wrong? They looked at each other and whispered something and then turned back to me concerned. "Are you okay?" Amara asks. Now it was my turn to give them a confused look.

"Yeah, I'm fine." I replied irritably.

Before Amara could say more, Betsy came up and tapped me on the shoulder. I turned to her and saw that her eyes were red and that there were streaks of makeup going down her cheek. She had been crying, no doubt due to some recent bullying.

"Can you help me?" She whimpered.

Yes

Yes I wanted to help her. I felt compelled to in fact. For so long I had just sat back and allowed people to push her around when I could've stood up and said, no. But this is where the story gets, weird. I turned to my friends, for only the briefest seconds, I saw only their mangled corpses looking back at me. Their eyes were hollow, their flesh well into decay, and their lips chapped beyond repair. I blinked and it all changed back to normal. I wanted to ask what happened, not sure how I was going to phrase it, but then Betsy turned me back to her and I remembered that she needed my help.

"What do you need?" I asked.

She didn't say, instead she just motioned for me to follow her out of the gymnasium. I followed her, desperately wanting to know what she needed my help for. She took me outside the school building and stopped. She just stood in silence for awhile, leaving me wondering why I had come out here. She seemed fine. She seemed. . . strange.

Then she turned around and kissed me.

That's when I knew, I was in love with her.

Everything else happened in a blur, I don't remember much else after that kiss. It's like my mind went blank, blank with love. What I know now is that Betsy Cox is a witch. Or at least a witch in training. I don't know why that's important, something tells me that it should be. She was the one who told me she was a witch. She also told me that we can't continue our education. So we don't go to school anymore. She also told me that I can't live with my parents anymore, so I don't. I mean, they haven't called or seem to care about where I am. Not that I'm in any harm, I'm with Betsy at some place that used to be her mom's. I guess you can say that we live together.

Again I don't know why I'm sharing all this. If anything this story has probably been pretty vague. It's just that some part of me feels like me sharing this piece of information. . . somehow means something. I'm not sure what though. I couldn't be happier, I'm with the girl of my dreams.

Aren't I?