Young Writers Society

She slammed the door behind her hard, and ignored the wood slightly splintering from her force. A dirty glare and low huff came out as she threw her bright, neon green messager bag at the wall. Samantha Ransel was angry. Extremely angry -- to the point of no return, even!

Her mother was worried when she walked into the corridor as her daughter had came home, who had a frightening scowl on her face, and her siblings, young and older alike, did not give her the usual teasing comments on her appearance or her day once they saw her. Their dearest Samantha did not frown often, especially not like she was ready to kill someone very soon in a brutal matter, so they minded their own business and turned away for she may unleash murderous fury on them. Samantha had ran up the stairs to the third floor to her bedroom, a heavy stomp every so few steps.

She let out a scream, and punched the maroon red painted walls of her bedroom as best she could, it did not even budge, and her hand hurt with a stinging pain, but she paid no heed to it. It'd swell up later, but right now, she just needed that to vent out the anger from today's humiliation.

Throwing herself onto the bed, she stared at the shelf across the room, eyes tracing over the shape and figures of several trophies, bronze, silver, or gold, representing accomplishments that she had achieved. Mostly in academics, math, to be exact. She remembered the ordeals of the day. Those snobby girls.. how dare they!

"Hey, Samantha, right?" The girl called out in question looked up when her name was called. She was working out some calculus to ease her boredom, and had been rudely interrupted by this group of pink scarfed matching girls -- to be more accurate, Jessica Roberts, Mariella Gonzales, Shalika Johnson, and Amy Cheng. It was Amy who called her out.

Samantha looked up, trying to hold back on showing an irritated and annoyed face, as much as that was what she felt inside, being a Junior now, Samantha understood just what happened to those who cross these manipulative girls -- horrible things.

".. That's my name, don't wear it out." She muttered, in a quiet and emotionless manner.

"Listen girl," Shalika slammed her hand down on the table. "We need you to meet us at this time, and this place." The busty African-American girl with long curly locks removed her pedicured long nailed hand from the smooth surface to reveal a piece of paper, written on a creamy pink ink, in handwriting that was curvy and dotting i's with many hearts.

"We also need you to dress up in this." Mariella, the Hispanic girl with a round face that had tons of makeup and feather accessories in her shorter hair, pulled up a white bag -- like the ones people use to carry in malls. She placed it on the table.

Samantha was a little scared as to what the girl had put in the bag that could possibly make them think that she had to wear it.

".. And for what reason do I have to do this?" The mathlete looked up suspiciously, and slightly angry that they were ordering her to do things without her consent.

"Because, we know that you like Jack Anderson." Jessica spoke up, the British girl with straight blonde hair, and obviously the leader of the little plastic group, "and we're gonna help you."

".. W-wha?" Samantha was relieved that her throat didn't clog up from the fact that they knew who she liked, but the fact that she stammered had confirmed their statement that she liked him, made her slightly reluctant. But then she remembered something, ".. But... Aren't you mad, Jessica? He is your ex.. As I could recall from the gossip going around."

The group gave glances at each other, and Jessica was silent. "Nah, those were just rumors." Amy said. "But we're offering you our services, so be happy." Shalika bobbed her hair, a fierce pride in her words. "It's not like you have a choice anyway, we know what Jack likes, so you're gonna need our help."

"Excuse me?"

"Hon, no offense, but your looks?" Shalika arched a disapproving brow. "Aren't up to his standards."

"We believe in happily ever afters, so we'll just help out with yours." Mariella smiled.

The pony tailed mathlete hesitantly agreed. ".. Oh.. okay."


Samantha felt like crying now, since the anger had finally cleared up. Looking back what had happened about an hour ago, she was certainly humiliated. And that couldn't make her angry anymore. Just broken.


".. I'm not so sure about this now."
"Don't worry girl, you look good." Shalika flexed a hand as if to tell her to stop worrying.

"Hold still, I'm still applying your mascara." Amy grumbled, holding the mascara stick.

"O-oh, sorry."

Samantha Randel, hours ago, a mathlete with no attractiveness and was simply a 'Plain Jane', now stood gorgeously in black high heels and a mid-knee length white and blue baby dress, showing off her legs. Her hair was up, curled, and her face was was currently being attacked by make up products. Her naturally good eyes that were a pretty shade of light brown was being brought to attention with eye shadow, eye liner, and all that icky stuff that she'd never ever dream of putting on.

"You look good," Mariella giggled.

"..Thank you." Samantha gave a small smile back, nervous. It wasn't that she was nervous about meeting with Jack, whom the girls delivered a message to meet her here at the school, after its hours, but rather that Jessica was silent, leaning against the wall, quietly observing. In fact, she hadn't done anything in this, and that made Samantha scared, despite the other girls' relieving comments to ease her.

"Oh! I think he's here!" Amy said, who had been look out after she finished helping with the makeup.

"Go on, girl!"

"You can do it!"

".. Thank you." Samantha gave a grin to them, wishing herself some luck. She made small steps to where they were supposed to meet. She noticed that Jessica disappeared off to somewhere. She furrowed her brow, but then reasoned with herself that she probably just missed the British girl who kept silent.

Looking at her get up, she gave a nervous and forced smile. ".. Was all of this really necessary.." She muttered, second guessing this decision.

Up ahead on the top of the stairs, she saw Jack's silhouette. It was alright. She could do this.

This confidence of which the mathlete was feeling quickly went away when she suddenly felt someone tap her on the back. She turned. "Wha-"

"You bitch."

She closed her eyes from a sudden need of instinct.
She felt cold. And she felt wet. When Samantha realized it, she was soaked in water, and her eyes hurt. Her make up was dripping and smudging everywhere. She wasn't sure if she was trembling from the water, from anger, or from shock.
"What was that?" She could hear Jack's voice. By instinct, she ran. Hell, she ran past to the next corner, knowing that by now, Jack had saw her. She hid behind at the end of the lockers, in front of a door.

"Hello?" He had called out. She stiffened. No, she couldn't let him see her like this.
"I must be seeing things.." Jack's voice sounded farther away, and Samantha hesitated from looking from behind the gray and blue lockers. Waiting for a several more seconds, she peeked out.

Her eyes widened at seeing Jessica and Jack embracing. Jessica and Jack. Embracing. She could feel her eyes watering up, a small >hic< coming from her throat, her lip trembling. Staying like that for several more seconds, she could see Jessica shift her head slightly on Jack's shoulder, and on her pink candy coated lips, came a malicious smile.

Samantha realized what had just happened. She was fooled. She was tricked. Tricked into being something to laugh about. She could hear a flash from behind, and when she turned, another. It was Amy, Mariella, and Shalika.

"This is what happens when you mess with Jessica's love life." Mariella scowled, her friendly smile had gone.

"W-what? But you said--"

"Please, that was just a hoax." Amy scoffed. "You honestly thought that Jessica didn't go out with him?"

Samantha, in disbelief, felt the reality and pain of being played sink in.
Shalika bobbed her head in an obnoxious matter. "Girl, in fact, they've been together for 4 months. It'll be official and around the school tomorrow."

"Like Mariella said, this is what we do to those who dare try to mess with our men."

"What?!"

"You stood no chance." Mariella said, holding the camera that took the picture of her like that.

"And we needed an errand girl anyway. This, will help.. encourage you." Amy motioned towards the digital camera.

Samantha stood silent, tears streaming down her cheeks some more. Then, in a quick motion, grabbed for the camera, snatched it out of her hands, and then ran. She could hear Mariella scream out, "hey!" She ran. Running and kicking off the heels during so, she kept running. Unable to stop the streaming of her cheeks falling.

'I'm not gonna let them control me like this.I am not weak.' She kept running. She could hear the other three running after her. Samantha zig-zagged around hall after hall, in hopes that she would lose them. She made way to the science room, ducking underneath of one of the tables, that had a front that concealed your legs when you sit behind it. For now, it's purpose would be to hide her and her body.

Breathing heavily, she tried to stop her quiet sobbing, hands shaking and clutching hard on the digital camera. She could hear them outside. Talking as where she was, and cursing that they lost her and the camera. Samantha felt a surge of anger almost overtake in her, yet she knew that she could not afford to fight back right now. Now, she was vulnerable, and outnumbered. Silently, she waited.

Then, the voices went away, and there was a silence. She tried to calm herself. Wiping away all the makeup off with the dress that wasn't even hers, ruining it beyond repair with all the disgusting and icky stuff on it. She shivered, sighed, and used another part of it, soaked from the water, to re-cleanse her face of anything she missed. She began to get up out from under. But then, she heard the door of the room open, and she quickly retracted. She prayed that it wasn't the girls. 'Please, god, don't let it be them.'

Shuffling. And the sound of jeans rubbings against it as someone walked. She frowned in confusion. The girls hadn't been wearing jeans as she remembered. Just Jessica. She froze up, and then started praying that it wasn't her. Samantha wasn't ready to face her either.

"Well, this is a surprise."

A male voice. It definitely wasn't Jack's. Samantha noticed that she had been hiding her face in her hands, she looked up from them, only to have face-to-face with someone else that was too close. She let out a small eep, and by instinct, pushed the face away. Hard.

He let out a scream too, of surprise. He fell back from the force, and then hit the table behind him, and then slid down. He cursed under his breath. When she took a closer look, it was Daniel Harlder. The school's freelance weirdo who was always having a some sort of obsession to research on with each week. Last week, he came to school dressed as different Marvel Comic characters, and the previous, various Renaissance writers. This week, it would seem, that he had taken an interest to emo fashion, which was why she almost didn't recognize him, til she saw his bag spilling out the comics and books that he would research on, seeing an emo magazine among them, his student ID card on the top.

"Oh.. thank God, it's just you." She sighed, making no attempt to help him, more happy to be relieved. 'Til he voiced so. "A little help and an apology would be nice."

".. Sorry." She gave him a hand, and helped him up, cautiously looking at the door that he had entered from. It was closed, the door's glass was frosted, so it less likely Jessica, Mariella, Shalika, or Amy would find them. Though in her case, she wouldn't see them coming, which worried her. Her attention dwindled back to Daniel, who asked in a curious expression, "what's got you all up in a bundle of nerves?"

"Nothing." She huffed.

"Don't seem like so. You're Samantha, that mathlete, right?"

"So what if I am?" She retorted.

"Seeing as you're in such an ugly dress, and the fact that you'd actually be in a dress, makes it abnormal, you know."

"What would you know? You're the abnormal one."

He gave a cocky grin. "I happen to know that girls like you don't look good in dresses like that. I am in fact, very proud of my difference."

Samantha flushed. So she didn't even good in dresses, huh? Offended, she said nothing, and then began walking to the window.

"Where are you going?" He asked, though, his tone didn't really seem all that interested.

"Outside. To home. It's none of your business though." Samantha glared, and then propped herself on one of the tables to reach for the top that unlatched it.

"The door's that way." He said, pointing towards it, but Samantha didn't see due to the fact that her back was facing him instead.

"So?" She was having difficulty reaching. Darn her shortness.

"I happen to know that I saw you running from the Four. Well, members of it."
She turned to him. "The what?" It seemed to have made him break out in a grin.

"Mariella Gonzales, Shalika Johnson, and Amy Cheng, the followers of the group of Four that terrorizes most of the female population and preys on the male?"

".. When you put it like that, it sounds stupid."

"That hurt. Right here." He patted his chest. Samantha scoffed. "Wrong side. That's your lung." She felt her eye twitch by the careless mistake he made. But his grin got wider. "Exactly."

She blinked in confusion. Daniel was certainly an odd ball indeed. His reputation of being a weirdo certainly caught up very quickly. But the piercings that she couldn't believe was real on his lips, nose, and eyebrow made it hard to think that this Daniel was the same. He was clad in black, and his hair was somewhat long enough to hang over an eye. He was somewhat paler too. Emo bands were listed on his shirt, skinny jeans, and his usual pair of sneakers with black sharpie on it to make skulls and the like drawn on.

It pissed her off as to how much a wannabe he looked, but realistic at the same time. The grin on his face unnerved her, like he was expecting her to figure something out. Her hands gripped tight. But then she realized that her hand was empty. She looked around frantically.

"Looking for this?" He held up the digital camera that seemed to have appeared out of nowhere.

"Wha-- I need that!" She lunged for it. He kept it out of reach with his very tall stature. The cheeky bastard. "What's so important about it?" He raised a brow, amused by how much she was failing at trying to get it.

"None of your damn business." Samantha made a sound of what she almost thought could've been a growl.

"Haha, au contraire, mademoiselle. C'est maintenant mon entreprise." In a low voice, Daniel began speaking French. Samantha cursed the fact that she decided to take Latin instead. This little.. "I don't speak French."

"Oh? Of course, I'll translate. It is now my business, since you, miss, are ugly in a dress, I've decided to take sympathy on you."

That harsh comment hurt. Samantha, deciding that she wasn't going to take this harassment, gave him a hard slap across the face, and then ran out of the room.

Samantha got up to grab her green messager bag to clean it up from the puddle that she found it in. When she thought about when she ran from Daniel, even the complex math equations from her classes were much easier, because she couldn't quite explain why she cried.

Translation:


A/n: So. Based off of this:


Which shall appear in later chapters. Oh! And this:


I plan for this to be more like a novella or novelette -- three to five chapters at most. Trying to make this a memorable, heart felt and non-typical story with more-or-less that probably have several cliche elements. Would love feedback. Thanks.

I apologize if it seemed too long. Perhaps I should've split it into two?
~ItsRainbowInked

So. This is not a review, just some comments of mine. A little gushing, since it's late at night and I needed something entertaining to read. So I read this.

First of all, the title is great. For some reason I think Stockholm Syndrome is a really interesting subject, and as a title it works well because it can be used for some great forshadowing. The guy still has the camera, so I'm guessing he's going to use it?

This is really cliche with the whole mean-girls and crush and stuff. But I like it I especially like the nerdy-crazy dude. He seems really awesome. I'm really excited to read more of this! Please continue!

Sorry I wasn't too helpful!
-Dai

Please write more of this! (If you have time.) It has great potential and I would really like to read more

You can do it!

Hey there!

I loved this! My favourite paragraph: this one here, was amazing:

She slammed the door behind her hard, and ignored the wood slightly splintering from her force. A dirty glare and low huff came out as she threw her bright, neon green messager bag at the wall. Samantha Ransel was angry. Extremely angry -- to the point of no return, even!

Another thing you could watch is using the word 'smile' too much. She 'gives a small smile' way too much. I struggle with that too, but you just need a few more body gestures. She bit her lip? She shrugged? Whatever.

It was good, a pleasure to read!

NightWriter x