ONE | I AM A RACCOON

CHAPTER ONE | I AM A RACCOON

IVY KING

F!

A big fat fucking F written in sticky red on the front of my Chemistry paper. I internally groan as I check it again, hoping and praying that it would magically switch to an A.

Hell, I wouldn't even mind if it changes to a D or C, as long as it is no longer the grade I'm staring at right now.

We were given our Chemistry results yesterday and honestly, my delulu self was expecting an A or B. I really tried my best to get good grades but it seems that the harder I try, the more I fail. I am starting to slowly believe in magic, dark magic to be precise because how else would anyone explain what the fuck is wrong with me? I don't think I am dumb but somehow, even the supposedly dumbest person in my school manages to get better grades than I do…even if it's just a mark higher than mine.

Whenever I remember the fact that everyone I know graduated last year, I want to hit my head on the wall so hard that my head would split open and I can take my brains out and ask it what the fuck it thinks it's doing taking up space in my head but not working.

It seems that the harder I read, the dumber my brain becomes.

This is the second fucking time I'll be a 12th grader. I couldn't graduate with the rest of my classmates because I failed.

Apart from the fact that it is fucking embarrassing to be in the same class with kids younger than you, the fact that college was and still is my only hope of leaving the prison I call home and also the only way to escape the hell I am currently only makes it worst…and yes, I called my new classmates kids because that's what those muppets are.

I can't tell where it all went wrong. In my freshman year, I was the best student in my grade but suddenly, in my sophomore year, my grades suddenly dropped. No warning…absolutely none, it just fucking dropped.

A lot of people might think that I became lazy, started going to parties, being the life of the party or any other thing like that but that isn't the case. It isn't even close to it.

I have always been an introvert and unlike many introverted people, I had no friends. Not even one…yeah, I'm that bad.

I don't think I've ever had friends. I have a first class degree as a wallflower and I never plan to change that.

When it comes to making friends, I don't have the ability to do so. While they were sharing little social skills to other introverts in heaven, I must have been too busy queuing for dumbasses, an addiction to music, and this ability to say the most random stupid shit at the wrong time…insecurities too.

Trust me when I say that those four things are the only talent I have and if an award was to be given for any of them, I will sure as hell win it.

Over the years, lots of people have tried and failed woefully at being friends with me. The thing is, I am a fucking freak.

I am such a freak that a freak would avoid me in fear.

I am such a freak that the freakiest person in this world would bow down and worship at her boss's feet…I am the boss of freaky people.

I say the most random things and do the craziest things when you least expect.

For example, in freshman year, I had just resumed in this school and I knew no one since we just moved to the city.

I had just gotten to school with the new car my father bought me. I wasn't allowed to drive and had a driver that dropped me off in the morning and picked me up in the afternoon…I'm still not allowed to drive.

My father doesn't trust me because he thinks that if I'm ever given the chance to learn how to drive, I would most likely run away. He isn't wrong though.

Anyways, I had just arrived and this girl that really loved the car rushed over to me squealing and asked if the car was mine. Knowing fully well that I might say something stupid if I spoke, I simply nodded my head.

The girl stretched her hands and introduced herself as Victoria. I stared at her outstretched hand for a couple of seconds, totally freaking out on what to do in my head.

Should I shake her and then kiss the back of her hands like they do in some of the movies I watch?

Should I take her hand and lick it?

Should I blow her a kiss?

Should I give her my favourite finger?

What the hell do I do and how the hell do I know what to do?

Seeing that I wasn't going to respond soon, the girl slowly and awkwardly dropped her hands. Still trying to be friendly, she asked me what my name is and you wouldn't guess what I told her.

“Hi, Victoria. I am a Raccoon."

Yeah…I told the poor traumatized Victoria that I am a fucking raccoon.

Why I chose to be a raccoon is something I still haven't figured out. I could have said I'm a strawberry. I could have said I'm a candy or maybe even a puppy but no, I went big and claimed to be a fucking raccoon.

Go Ivy! Go me! I'm so fucking proud of myself that I could celebrate myself by drowning in the big swimming pool at the back of my house.

At this point, Victoria already knew that I am a freak. I could see in her eyes that she was completely freaked out.

Trying to save the day and my name, I quickly took her hands and shaked it continuously like someone hypnotised. I also gripped her hands as firmly as I could so that she wouldn't run away.

There was only one thought in my head– I must make friends.

“Hello, my name is poison…I mean poison Ivy. No, I mean Ivy." I say to her while violently shaking her hands.

I didn't need anyone to tell me I fucked up before I knew I fucked up.

Why the hell would I call myself poison Ivy? What the hell is fucking wrong with me?

And all this time, there's an uncontrollable creepy smile on my face like I'm a murderer in a horror movie with really bad acting.

Talk about making shit worse.

Like any human being in his or her right sense, Victoria forcefully stopped the handshake and ran away but not before calling me a total freak.

After she left, I facepalm so hard that it stings for a few seconds then usual.

I should be an embarrassment to humanity. Is there a social police? I think I need to be arrested for the social murder I just committed.

With a sigh, I went into the school even though I knew I had started my first day of high school on a bad note and words had probably spread about me being a freak…I was still very much determined to make friends and become popular.

Before highschool, I was determined to become one of those popular girls I watched on TV and I didn't want anything or anyone to stop me.

I wanted that in middle school too but everyone was afraid of me because their parents were afraid of my father. Everyone said my father is evil and didn't want to associate with me because of him. One day, I heard a mother telling her daughter not to breathe around me or look at me if she doesn't want to get sold to a rich and freaky paedophile. A stupid girl also told me that her mother said my father sells human body parts. It's safe to say that those events traumatised me in middle school. Everyone, including my teachers and principal, treated me like I'm some sort of human alien.

When we moved, I was so freaking grateful and happy. Saw it as the perfect opportunity to make friends and change my life for the better. I didn't even realise I am an antisocial freak until we moved. Since I didn't have any reason to be social in my former town, I never knew I had social anxiety.

As if I hadn't spoiled my reputation enough earlier, I also destroyed my chances of living like I don't exist during the lunch break of my first day in highschool…living a quiet and drama free life.

It's kinda Ironic that everything happened on the first day.

So, I was busy sitting alone, trying to gather up courage to go over to the table for popular cheerleaders when I was approached by an extremely handsome guy. I was immediately attracted to him and said a short prayer in my head that he was heavily attracted to me too.

As the Universe would have it, he thought I am really cute and wanted to take me on a date.

Looking around, I noticed that the whole cafeteria was watching us silently and some people were even recording. I immediately knew that the guy is probably the most popular athlete in school.

I was surprised he likes me since he is fucking hot and also popular. Why would he go for someone like me?

I wanted to say, “yes, please," but once I opened my godforsaken mouth, an entirely different thing came out of my mouth.

Something that ruined my life and was the gateway to me getting bullied throughout my highschool years.

If I knew my mouth and brain didn't corporate then, I would have simply nodded my head instead of saying, “If Pringles are salty and the water in my head is brown, why put fries in a transparent box, instead of putting rice to make it sunscreen bad…fucking hell no."