Author’s Note: In my last essay, I discussed how Ridley (from the Beautiful Creatures series by Kami Garcia and Margaret Stohl) may have been bullied because her behavior towards Mortals definitely shows some hostility and perhaps underlying emotions of a traumatic past. I went into more detail in the essay, so you can read it if you want, it’s called “Her Chosen Heart.” From what I can understand while reading the books, it seemed like the authors lead the readers to believe Ridley was bullied when she went to school with her cousin Lena. During this short story—okay, maybe it’s longer than I expected it to be—I write in Ridley’s point of view what goes through her mind when she’s an 9th where she’s still vulnerable and hasn’t changed to a Dark Siren (a powerful person who has the power to control someone with their looks and voice) yet, which is the first part of my piece. Before she was called Ridley, her name was Julia, but that changed when she went Dark. In one part of Beautiful Darkness, the second book in the series, Lena, Ridley’s cousin, runs off with Ridley and their friend, John Breed. Lena believes she is going Dark and as not to hurt any of the Light people in her life, she thinks going to be with her cousin is her best option. During the book, there’s a small part where it talks about Lena’s new look where she gets a blue streak in her hair, starts wearing black all the time and acts mean and Dark, like Ridley. I drew inspiration from those few pages to create a little piece of what Ridley would be thinking as she’s giving her Dark makeover to Lena, while seeing a little of her old self within her cousin and sharing the thoughts I think that would have been going on in Ridley’s head at the time.
Written as Julia in 9th Grade
“Freaks!”
“Show us that you’re really human!”
“C’mon, Julia!”
“Lena isn’t here to save you, is she?”
The voices whirled around in my brain, taunting and teasing me as I sat in Spanish class. They were just on the other side of the room! It’s done and over now; I breathed in and out, trying to calm myself down. I closed my eyes, just a little relaxation. I’m not here . . . I’m not here . . . I’m at home . . .
“Julia . . . . . . . Julia. . . . . . . . Julia!” I heard Señora Whimms say loudly.
When I opened my eyes, I jumped!
She was right in front of my desk with those harsh black holes that she dared to call eyes staring into my baby blue ones. Her head was so close to mine I could feel her midday coffee breath; her white skin was full of bumps and pimples concealed with white powder and her hair was pinned up in a slick bun—all the signs of a monster hidden inside of a teacher. “Julia, could you please tell me what this means?” Señora Whimms asked me, pointing to the board filled with unfamiliar Spanish words.
I shook my head. “No, Señora,” I replied, shame and nerves shaking my voice.
“Loser.” “Pffffffftttt.” “Stupid.” “Idiot,” the same people in my head said from the back of the room.
The teacher just shook her head at me and didn’t even look at them. She continued on with her lesson, that I couldn’t pay attention to—not with them in the room.
Ding! Ding! The bell went off, I was saved!
Lena was standing outside the door. She’s the most wonderful cousin in the world; she’s even more like a sister to me. I’m in 9th grade and she’s in 7th grade. We kind of stick up for one another when we’re bullied. Today she’s wearing her new black converse, which she already started drawing on and of course, like every day, Lena was wearing her little memorabilia charms on a chain. “Hey, you alright?” she asked me.
Shake it off! I told myself before answering, “Yeah. I’m fine.”
“C’mon it’s time for lunch,” Lena exclaimed, pulling me along to my locker.
When we got in to the lunch room, kids darted away from us like we had loaded guns while we walked to our usual table. It was the one with the dents from all the trash that was thrown at us. I settled in on one side of the bench and Lena sat across from me.
"So Lena Beana, how was math class?” I said, opening my lunch bag.
My cousin shook her head. “Terrible, I got erasers tossed at my head.”
I sighed and looked over at her tormentors, the rotten rich 7th graders. There’s Chelsea--natural brunette who’s already dying her hair blonde--the leader of the pack, and her groupies Leah and Liz Lemon, her twin minions. All three of them act as if they rule the 7th grade just because they’re "besties" with 9th grade popular girls. Go figure.
“They need to learn a lesson or two. Or a billion, for all the texting in class that they do,” I whispered to Lena.
She laughed, catching their attention.
They stopped at our table to long enough to snicker, flip their extensions and twitch back to their lunch table on the opposite side of the room. I look away; they’re too terrible to give my attention to.
Digging through my lunch box, I find my juice pouch which is missing a straw. “I’ll be right back,” I told Lena, getting up.
The garbage can―on wheels―came flying into my side pushing me to the ground, spilling chunks of junk all over me. Lena gasped and rushed to help me up, but is blocked off and distracted when the other trash can came crashing into her from the back side. I saw Chelsea and her groupies giggling; I know she’s responsible. Kids crowded around me and started howling with laughter. A tear escaped my eye and I quickly wiped it off.
They came up to me as the kids cleared away for them. Their leader waved a compact in front of my face, sneering, “Looks like you really do belong in the trash.”
My clean white shirt was stained with spaghetti sauce that made me look like I was bleeding and sloppy joe chunks with bun crumbs stuck in them. Stray spaghetti noodles hung on my shoulders and wrists, adorning me in edible string like jewelry. On my jeans it was worse―I had sloppy joe stains all around the area that made me look like I used my pants instead of a toilet! The milk left in the cartons spilled in my hair and I realized I had a banana peel hat. My hair was ruined! It looked like a blonde rat’s nest and there were even a few pieces of gum stuck in there.
Lena wasn’t any better, she and I were could be twins, wearing everyone’s trash. I certainly felt like rubbish because no one wanted to touch it, smell it, see it or be around it. We were everyone's trash.
Hauling my poor, sweet cousin by her hand into the bathroom, we got a look at ourselves in the mirrors. Lena burst into tears, which she hardly ever does. Seeing her cry made my eyes water. I pulled her into a hug and tried to comfort her. “Lena Beana, it’s gonna be fine,” I said, somewhat soothingly while trying to stay strong, for both mine and Lena's sake.
She stepped back out of my embrace. “But Julia, when is it going to end?” she asked me. Her innocent, naiive green eyes were staring into my unwavering questionable eyes.
I didn’t know what to say. We're bullied often, but usually it's never to this extreme. Shaking my head, I wiped the tears shining against her pale skin. “I’m so sorry, I—I just . . . I don’t know, but I’ll try and fix this,” I promised, even trying to assure myself.
“Can we just stay here? Just for a while?” Lena begged. The pain and sorrow in her voice was enough to make my tears fall to ground. It was so silent in the tile room, I heard them pitter patter on the tile floor.
I nodded heading into the handicap stall, pulling the diaper changing station down from the wall where Lena and I climbed up to sit.
Why was it always us? No matter what school we went to, it was always the same: we were tormented all the time and treated like trash. We were outsiders and we knew why: our powers, which no one knew about, but we didn’t realize that it made us so different--or that people could instantly pick out we were so different from everyone else.
It wasn’t fair! Time and time again, people never gave us the chance—the chance to let us all just be friends. I mean, I’ve had homeschooling until 5th grade and I learn just the same in public schools, except I thought things would change for the better. I had hopes and dreams of making some new friends besides with a few Casters, like us, that Gramma knows.
However, Casters—sort of like witches but we Cast Casts, not spells—are so much alike. We all deal with powers and we don’t have to hide what we are, though I don’t know or have all of my powers yet. There are few of us in the world and there are so many Mortals in the world and for once I just wondered what it was like to fit in.
I don’t want to be just another Mortal, yet at the same time I do, I want to be somewhat similar to Mortals since Lena and I have always been outcasts, even among Casters. One day I know I will be Claimed for either the Light or the Dark under the full moon on my birthday. I’m hoping for Light because I’d still have a soul and Lena and I could try to go to college and start a future with our husbands, being completely, utterly normal. Maybe I would be able to influence others to do good when I get my full powers. I would be in control; I could also find them and slap ‘em silly for what they do to me and Lena.
Written as Ridley from Beautiful Darkness
“I felt like that every day and that was my life,” I tell John, “but now look at me, Suga'.” Spreading my arms out dramatically, I put a smile on my face because I’m proud of myself for taking control of my own destiny, so now I’m not the one pushed around anymore.
John nods absent mindedly, staring off into who-knows-what. The guy wears too much black, he needs more color, at least a little pop or pizazz! He’s being way too MACHO for his own good.
Lena Beana is shuffling behind the dressing room curtain. She pulls it back to reveal her new black dress. It’s simply stunning on her! The raven black leather lace-up corset in the front, strapless and form fitting, to her skirt that goes from short in the font and longer in the back in a chiffon airy fabric, the ultimate hard and soft. Well, it was fitting for Lena; she has one green eye, the eye of a Light Caster, and one gold eye, the eye of a Dark Caster, like me. She was indeed half and half of opposites, hence the tough leather and the oh-so-innocent silky chiffon. Though, truth be told, I want her to be Dark, so that she and I can be close again, like the good ol' days going to school.
“Looking good, hun,” I say. “And change into those hot new electric blue heels, why don’t ya?” I grimace at her black converse, all drawn on and beat up, her favorite shoes in the entire world--of all shoes--and the only pair she really bothers to wear.
My cousin squirms uncomfortably and looks at herself in the mirror. “Why am I wearing this again?” she asks.
I smirk my little it’s-obvious-duh-oh-you-are-so-young-little-one smile. “Because you said you were going Dark, and now you’ve got to at least look like it.” I mean, c’mon, a girl’s gotta look the part too.
While Lena is staring at herself with no confidence what so ever—poor girl, I check out myself. Cherry red lipstick, dramatic winged eye liner, rich golden eyes, slicked back auburn hair, black laced see-through dress, black tank top cut off, black mini boy shorts and to top it all off were the cutest platform high heel pumps in cherry red.
Lena kind of reminded me of myself in a way, there was no confidence and when I went Dark, but oh, I found my destiny and all the possibilities of power. I am sure Lena will be able to find her way in this dark, twisted world, with my guidance of course.
My lips purse, studying myself in the mirror. It was hard to put so much power into a single word, but I say, “I look . . . alluring, do I not?”
“Yeah. And I look . . . like a raven,” Lena replies.
Swinging an arm around her shoulder, I explain, “You’ll grow to like it. We always do.”
