ACM Gates

“Ugh, look at it”
“What is it?”
“A troll”
The rosaceous laughter followed Chirsty Simmons as she trudged through the mud of St. Patrick’s school field. Her football was kicked at her and bounced off the side of her school. Why; why did she have to be who she was? She wished she could move outside of her body and- and what? Be beautiful, popular? She didn’t know. What she did know was that because of her appearance she would be lucky to have more then one friend in the entire world.
“Chirsty?”
A face suddenly appeared right in front of Chirsty jumped backwards and slipped. Lying on her back, splattered with mud, more laughter rang in her ears, not friendly chuckles but evil sniggers.
Tamsin Flown stuck out a hand and pulled Chirsty up back onto her feet. She had a small round head with shiny black hair falling shortly beneath her shoulders. She had a wide smile and a cheerful face but no matter how cheerful the rest of her appearance looked, her bright mood would never meet her deadened, grey eyes.
“Don’t worry about this,” she said, brushing the mud of Chirsty. “We’ll get you over to matron and you’ll be clean in no time.”
“Thanks,” said Chirsty, but bitterly. She knew that whatever happened, she could not lose Tamsin or else she’d be totally alone.
The two paced back towards the school, talking quietly. Mud clods hit the back of Chirsty’s head but she took no notice.
“Hey, do you want to come round my house for an hour or so today?” said Tamsin. Chirsty grinned. She knew that Tamsin was only trying to cheer her up. Usually after school she would prefer to be on her own or play with her sister. Chirsty had never even seen her house and so she must really want to make Chirsty feel better.
When Chirsty had gone up to Matron, the grey headed nurse dug right into the depths of a red box. The closest things she found to Chirsty’s sizes was a T-shirt several sizes to big (which surprised her because of her enormous bulk), and PE shorts that seemed to be cutting off the blood circulation in her thick legs. Shoes wise, she was forced to wear a pair of deserted plimsolls with five sizes between them. Dressed in this bizarre manner, she was dreading going back into her tutor room. Mark Haines, a popular rebel with his hair tied back in the smallest of ponytails, loved to make fun of people. He was going to have a field day.
Sure enough, when she entered classroom 6H, a roar of laughter met her ears. Trying to block out the insults of her classroom, she sat down in the smallest corner of the room next to Tamsin. Her friend stood up and stalked up to Mark, her face set.
“Shut up,” she said in an ordering tone.
Mike was not used to people standing up to him. He looked taking aback and scowled. “You’re not much better, flown, hanging around with that blob. We could have been good together as well.”
Tamsin gave a short, high-pitched laugh, “Me and you? Get real. I wouldn’t go out with even if you weren’t gay.”
With that she stormed back to the corner with Mark laughing nervously at his friends who were giving him suspicious looks.
Tamsin sat back down next to Chirsty who face was in between her hands. When she looked up, Tamsin saw a single tear running down her cheek. It was a fat cheek that led on to a swelled, grey eye. Chirsty’s hair was a muddy brown and curbed inwards shortly before the bottom of her long nose.
“Don’t listen to then” said Tamsin in a soothing tone, “They’re just jealous.”
Chirsty exhaled.
“Jealous of what?” she said, her voice wavering, “They want to be ugly, do they? They want to be fat? Well please, come on up. I’ll swap anytime!”
Chirsty mopped through the whole of Geography; more so then usual. Tamsin watched her from the other side of the classroom, glaring as Mark and the rest of his gang poked Chirsty with rulers. Tamsin felt her blood boiling up inside her, but she must control her anger. But when she saw them taking her pencil case, breaking the pens inside, and throwing it between them, she lost her temper.
Tamsin jumped to feet. “Stop it! Stop it this instant!”
All eyes flew to her, much to the annoyance of Mr. Elkland. He waddled up to Tamsin and readjusted his wig. Tamsin looked down at him; his head barely reached her chin.
“I think, “Mr. Elkland wheezed, “It would be a good idea to toddle off to your head of year, Ms. Flown.” He pointed a stubby finger towards the door and Tamsin flung it open as she stomped out, like a spoilt child.
“Now,” Mr. Elkland said, desperately trying to recapture the classes attention, all of whom were transfixed to the point where Tamsin had departed, “Get into… err… let me see now… ah yes… pairs, and discuss the effects of erosion… with examples!”
The entire class groaned but obeyed, shuffling off to find their friends or get seats nearest the back of the classroom. Chirsty didn’t even bother getting to her feet; she knew that no one would want to be paired with “Bursty Simmons”.
Sure enough, by the time the class had settled down, Chirsty was the only one left alone.
“What are you doing, Simmons?” said Mr. Elkland, “I told you to find partner.”
Chirsty started to speak but before her words were formed another voice cut across her.
“She can work with us, sir.”
It was Marcus. He had a nasty sneer across his face that Chirsty recognized as the look he had whenever he was brewing up big trouble. She didn’t like it, but knew that if she protested she would suffer. The detentions at St. Patrick’s were nasty.
“Well, that’s settled then” said Mr. Elkland, who then trotted off back towards his small desk.
Head bent low, Chirsty miserably sleuthed towards Marcus and one of the other members of his gang, Graham. Graham had messy blonde hair which fell down beneath his eyelids. He always seemed to have a considerable amount of dirt lodged underneath his fingernails.
“Hi Chirsty,” said Marcus in a fake, cheery voice, “Having a good lesson?” Graham grinned as Chirsty scowled.
Ten minutes passed calmly. Marcus whispered to Graham who kept chuckling and every now and again pocking Chirsty painful fully in the ribs. Then, just as the half-way bell echoed through the school, Marcus gave a giant intake of breath, as though he had had a wonderful idea. He quickly turned to Graham and whispered his fasted yet. Graham gave a roar of laughter and banged his hands together. The whole class turned silent, staring at the offender. He blushed and turned back to his piece of lined paper. It so far read:




He then hastily began pretending to write until the distant chatter broke out again.
Suddenly, another disturbance bevelled. From the other side of the classroom, Valerie Jenkins screamed and many of the class rushed over to see what the matter was. Mr. Elkland hurried over and bent his back down the short distance to the floor. When he stood back up, Chirsty could see he was holding something up. The thing was hovering several centimetres above the desk. Squinting, she saw that it was a tub of Tipex.
“May I ask,” Said Mr. Elkland, “Who threw this bottle at Ms. Jenkins?”
“I did, sir.”
Chirsty joined in as the whole class gasped. Marcus had raised his hand into the air and was smiling widely “I’m very sorry,” Marcus continued, “But it slipped out of hand, sir.”
Mr. Elkland looked taken aback that someone had actually owned up to the crime and struggled to regain his management. “Even so, you should keep more control of your things under control. You can join Ms. Flown at your head of year’s office.”
“OK” said Marcus with a suspicious grin on his face that not even Mr. Elkland could ignore.
“Hmm…,” he said, scratching his wig so that it fell over his left ear, “Perhaps Ms. Simmons should accompany you. Yes, I think that’s a good idea.”
Chirsty scowled but pushed her chair back and followed Marcus out of the door, thinking that this day could not get any worse. How very wrong she was…
“What are you up to?” she snapped at Marcus when they were half way down the stairs. When all he did was smile manically she drew a stubby fist back and punched out with all the strength she could muster.
WHAM!
Marcus started to laugh at her as she hurriedly rubbed her hand, trying to get the blood flow started again. She examined the spot where she had hit the wall, the paper peeling. There would be questions asked about that but she didn’t care just at the moment.
When they reached the a deserted corridor to the head of years office, Marcus stopped and pulled Chirsty round to face him, the grin still fixed on his face.
“Sorry Chirsty,” he said, not sounding sorry at all, “But I’ve got to zoom. Or should I say, “Got to broom”?”
And with that, he flung open a door next to them leading into a broom cupboard and pushed Chirsty inside. Her cries were muffled by a mop that had fallen on top of her. She pushed it out of the way and fell back out onto the corridor. Marcus was nowhere to be seen and so she ran in the only direction she could think of. The head of year’s office was round the next corner which was getting closer slowly, even though Chirsty was running as fast as she could. Then, at last, she turned to the left and saw-
BANG!
The head of year’s office was splattered with a white liquid. The head of year, Mrs. Winsor, screamed and then Marcus popped out from behind the office, laughing and approached Chirsty. His face suddenly turned stern.
“What’ve you done?” he yelled in an angry voice, just as another teacher, Ms. Faxx, strode out of her classroom.
Ms. Faxx was, in contrast to Mr. Elkland, a very tall woman. Her dark her was short and combed down on her skull. She always wore a black lipstick which crinkled extensively as she spoke.
“Which of you did this?” she said, her voice quivering with anger.
For the second time that day Marcus replied before Chirsty could even open her mouth, “Chirsty, miss. It looks like a tipex bomb went off and Mr. Elkland confiscated mine earlier today.”
Chirsty then realised what the white substance must be. She had seen tipex bombs before, a normal tub with a lighted string inside. The flame makes contact and-
Ms. Faxx glared at Chirsty, “Is this true?” and then, without waiting for an answer, “In” and she pointed to her office door.
Chirsty knew that there was no point in arguing. Whilst he may be a trouble maker, Marcus gave of the impression of a teachers pet. Who were they going to believe? Mr. Goody-Two-Shoes or Oddball Simmons? Her case was useless.
She held her breath as Ms. Faxx entered. She was in her forties and still single. Many of the pupils at St. Patrick’s said she was so strict because of her failed relationship with her first husband. Whether this was true, Chirsty never knew.
“How’s Mrs. Winsor?” Chirsty mumbled feebly. It was best to play the innocent.
“She’s in shock!” Ms. Faxx yelled, “She’s covered in tipex! She’s been taken to the hospital to have that stuff removed! Happy now?”
Chirsty said nothing. Instead, she stared down at the floor, trying with all her might to look ashamed rather then angry.
Ms. Faxx took deep breaths and sat down on a squashy blue chair. “Your behaviour was despicable. You are even now facing expulsion for this. Unless you can give me a full explanation why-“
There was a knock on the door and Ms. Faxx went to answer it, grumbling about being interrupted in the middle of a lecture. A man with a goatee stood in the frame and shared a minute’s whispered conversation with Ms. Faxx. When she turned back, closed the door and sat to face Chirsty again she looked a little less stern.
“That was Mr. Riggs, one of the school governors. Mrs. Winsor is going to be fine although she won’t be returning for a few weeks.” She paused here, as though considering how best to put her next sentence.
“I, therefore, have been appointed Acting Headmistress. This is a considerable step up for me and if you hadn’t… but it’s… that’s not the… Well, I have decided to soften your punishment. A months worth of after school detention sounds reasonable. Now get out of my sight.”
Chirsty didn’t need telling twice. She jumped up and pelted back to geography. When she entered, the whole class went quiet. Marcus was grinning.

“Well, that’s not too bad is it, considering what you were being accused of?”
It was ten past three and Tamsin was walking home with Chirsty. Chirsty had filled her in about what had happened from the moment she had left Mr. Elkland’s classroom.
“If only I had been there!” she kept saying, “But I’d been sent round the other side of the office to face the wall. It’s just so unfair.”
They walked a little more in silence and then Chirsty spoke.
“It’s my fault that they pick on me.”
“What? Don’t stupid!”
“No, it’s entirely my fault.”
“No it isn’t. Just because you’re ugly, it doesn’t mean that-“
“Excuse me?”
A silence fell over both of them, broken only by the sound of birds singing underneath the sun-soaked sky.
“Ugly?” said Chirsty.
“I only meant… Well you can’t… You can’t possibly think that you’re attractive?”
“Yes, and I simply love to be reminded.”
“Don’t you take that tone with me!”
“The boots come of and the truth comes out, eh?” Chirsty had begun to cry.
“Chirsty, don’t.”
But Chirsty had spun around and started to run in the opposite direction, not knowing why, not knowing where; all she knew was that she wanted to be as far away from Tamsin as possible.

Chirsty ran for about ten minutes before she finally stopped to catch her breath. The stitch in her chest was aching and she had absolutely no idea where she was. Why had she been so stupid? Why had she let an insult on grotesque appearance bother her so much that she had come all the way out here, wherever she was? But she already knew the answer to those questions. It was because it had been Tamsin, her only friend in the world, who had said them. Without Tamsin her life would crumble apart from the inside.
She made her way down a small industrial estate. There were large buildings with blacked out windows on each floor. Trucks and lorries stood outside factories and offices and fumes from a nearby power plant lingered beneath what had once been a warm, sunny day.
After another fifth teen minute of walking and seeing no one, Chirsty decided that she needed to find a phone box. She also needed desperately to go to the toilet so when a block came into view she entered at the ladies end and did her business.
When she emerged from one of the small cubicles, she washed her hands and then stared at her reflection in the mirror. She was ugly. This was one of the few times in her life when she had taken account of just how ugly she was.
Then she noticed something. One of her muddy hairs and disentangled itself from the rest. It was longer and slightly wavy. As Chirsty looked closer she saw that it was a different colour, not murky like the rest but lighter and shiny. As she watched, another of her hairs fell down to join the first, this one wavy and bright too. Slowly, very slowly, the entire of her hair grew, became smooth and curved like an ever lasting ripple. It grew to just below her shoulders, its new shade of brown gleaming.
But it didn’t stop at her hair. Her short and stubby legs and arms were growing thinner and longer, her fat cheeks were being sucked inwards until they were just the right size. Her stomach stopped sagging but was now slim and elegant. Her fingers were no longer stubby and her nails began to slightly lengthen.
It took around five minutes for the transformation to complete, and the girl looked back at her reflection, her new reflection.
And the new Chirsty Simmons began to laugh.

voicesinmyhead

For the most part, I enjoyed this story. Chirsty and Tamsin were interesting characters and the interaction between them was intriguing. The plot also mostly avoided the cliches of "unpopular person being mocked" by giving us more insights into Chirsty and Tamsin's minds. I have to say, though, that the ending threw me for a bit of a loop. It seemed totally opposite the realism of the rest of the story, and a bit too sudden, as well as a sort of shallow way of solving Chirsty's problems. Maybe if this had a continuation, where we see her reacting to her new beauty or something like that? Or more explanation of what's happening and how she feels.

Okay, annoying grammar stuff:
Was it her football? And I think that I would use "the school" as well
looks like you forgot a couple of words or something here. Probably just typing too fast
this may be too technical, but your opening phrase "lying on her back" modifies Chirsty, so grammar-wise, the subject shouldn't then be "more laughter" maybe switch to "she heard more laughter..." or "As Chirsty lay on her back..."
Second sentance beginning "she had", if you want to change that
I'm not quite sure what it means for a mood to meet someone's eyes. Maybe "hide" or "reach"?
off
Pacing usually implies back and forth. I would stick to walked or maybe a different synonym
hyphenate
Isn't his name Mark?
Capitalize Flown, and I think that "too" would work a bit better than "as well", which implies that there is something else that would be good together
insert "you"
whose
This sentence feels awkward and unnecessary. We already know that Chirsty is fat...maybe leave it out altogether?

Whatever, most of the rest is just some more grammatical stuff like that...it's kind of late at night and I have to go to sleep, so I won't finish the annoying editting bit. The story has a lot of potential, and I'd love to see it after corrections.

ACM Gates

Thank you for reviewing. I know there are a lot of grammatical errors, as I havn't edited yet, but thanks for pointing certain ones out I might have missed. But on your first pointer, this is a fantasy story, and whilst I try to make it a realistic as possible, that is impossible for the story to be 100% plausalbe. Plus, I'm not sure if I misunderstood you, but this story is far from finished, and you will see continuation and reactions.

voicesinmyhead

Sorry- I was unclear. I mean, I knew that it was going to be continuing, I was just disappointed to have it end there, on a note that feels different from the rest of the story. Obviously, in a longer story, this isn't going to be an issue.