Like a lightening bolt zapping a pole, there was a sudden shock of pure bliss that entered her broken heart. It was the perfect solution to her on going babbling of horror. The perfect secret to keep behind their conniving backs. A perfect plan of action for her revenge. They all would know her secret very soon, so what's the harm in revealing a little secret of theirs, that they didn't know still existed? She paces the length of her bedroom with that same painful expression poised on her face. Tonight is prom night at their high school. The last night of their senior lives in high school. Jenny knew better than to plan this twisted prank on them. Only a cold hardening feeling like ice seeps over her fragile heart that they've already managed to deceive and stomp on repeatedly. With nothing said, she knew it didn't matter now just how it didn't matter five months ago. She sits on her pink fabricated armchair leaning into the mirror by her French windows. Her face looks exhausted from loss of sleep, dark circles bleed under eyes as the drowning feeling of hate swallows her conscious being. The windows reveal a dark New York city night. Lights shimmer through the black clouds that refuse to let the moon that orbits above to smile with its silvery light. She stares at Fru Fru, her tabby cat that rolls over on her pink laced comforter with a weak meow. She sighs. The wound on her heart weighs her down to the armchair. It felt more like they had ripped it out and lethargically and painfully back into the depths of her body, past the ribs. She places her hand over her heart that beats slowly. How can one single secret feel so hurtful? "Why do the naughty kids always have to play with fire? Why did they have to go on telling about that horrible secret? It all just could have ended peacefully five months ago. Only no, not for them. So that's why I'll have to put them into their place, tonight". She's dateless. Jenny felt her insides snicker. A sudden pain, familiar to her weak self forced her to bring out the voodoo pin from the pink ballerina music box. A gift she'd received from her mother who now lives in France with her new husband. She left me, Jenny thought mournfully, maybe now she'll feel my pain. The pointed shiny edge of the pin breaks the surface of her middle finger's print. She winces at the sudden shock but relief of the blood. Like her secrets pouring out of her body, the keeper of secrets since birth. A single tear streaks down her pink blushed cheek. The grandfather clock in the living room striked eight o' clock. Time to face the music, she tells herself. A smile escapes her once tightened frowned lips, an evil promise for revenge. The dance so far is predictable, she noted as she sweeps past the dance floor in her scarlet red corset ball gown with her red high heels, a sibling to the stilettos, punctures the bottom of her feet. She inhales the thickening atmosphere’s oxygen mixed with sweat and heat. Her hands shakily hold the crimson red fabricated laced fan, silently pressing the wind to her face. She felt like the makeup at any moment will melt off if she didn't get some air. Where were they? She asked herself, feeling the hatred light up her face like a dim lamp in a bare room in an abandon house. "Jenny, what are you doing here"? Matthew said shocked. He stood there in his tuxedo with a glass of fruit punch in his hand that suddenly slips from his grip. Sweat clings to his face as he dabs the sweat from his face with a silky white napkin. She holds a breathe. "I'm here to dance, why else would I bore myself with your kind". Jenny says coldly, taking in his expression.
"Last time I checked we all were human". Matthew said hotly.
"Well, congratulations over the course of the past five months you proved me wrong", She says holding up the crystal glass of thickening red fruit punch. "To the last night of high school. What happens in high school stays in high school". She clings the glass against his and in one swallow drains the glass. She brushes elbows with him moving to the entry hall of the hotel's ballroom. He pulls her back by her forearm, "Listen, I didn't mean for things to escalate from that night". He practically pleads.
"Ew, no", Jenny says brushing off the sweat he stamped onto her forearm, "Apology not accepted".
She walks into the hallway out of breath fanning her herself. "Oh, please you've got to be joking. Why can't you just leave me alone"? She cries.
"I want to explain myself to you". He says trying to drag Jenny into the elevator.
She pushes back, "I said leave me out of this". Her perfect fiery red hair is out of place from its bun. He pulls her into the empty golden elevator by wrapping his arms around her waist. She tries to scream only he has a hand over her soft lips. At floor seventeen, she bites his hand running out of the elevator. He runs behind her only a few inches away. She screams when she falls flat on her back in the empty dim lighted hallway adorned with several oak doors of the bedroom suites. He forces her to her feet, walking past several doors as she limps with one shoe on, her arm placed around his neck. Inside the his suite its like having three bedrooms put together. There's a living room, bedroom, bathroom and small kitchen. Jenny sits on the plush coach, her ankle bruised with the faint colors of black and light blue. She rubs her sore ankle feeling the blood pulse through her almost lacerated ankle. He hands her an ice pack after he sits next to her. She immediately stands, limping towards the armchair by the flat screen TV. "Are you ever going to trust me"? He asks.
"Is that really a trick question? Or are you really that stupid"? She said, a dark snicker is released. He says nothing. The dripping of the pipe in the bathroom makes the only noise for ten minutes straight. "I'm so sorry, I told everyone you"-
"Stop, you have no reason to be apologizing now. You've kept this all inside for five months it won't kill you to keep it until you shrivel up into a pruned old man". Jenny yelled standing up. She walks past the hall mirror grabbing her red velvety purse. He comes after he pinning her against the wall, holding her arm captive in his clutch. "Say you forgive me". He cries, tears streaming down his face.
"Go to Angela, your girlfriend". Jenny said as she tries to move. He suddenly shoves her back hard into the wall. She cries out in pain. Only its too late his muscle hands clamp down onto her neck. "Say it! He yelled, sorrow drained from his tone.
"Never". She cries. "I was left to be called the outsider. How can I possibly forgive you, after all you did to ruin me with your followers"? Jenny squeaks past his hand. Suddenly her eys roll into the back of her head, falling into his arms.
"Jenny, hey your alright, stay with me". He said frustrated that the dead body wouldn't talk back. "Jenny"!
"Man what did you do"! Jason yelled, after storming into the suite. The seven of his friends stood there in the doorway, horror slapped across their faces. "We told you to kiss her! Not friggin' snap her neck! She's Priceler's daughter, our headmaster. How are we going to tell him about his dead daughter"!?
"We aren't". Matthew said staring at Jenny's pale face. "She wasn't suppose to give up a fight. Its all wrong".
"We have to get out of here", one of them cries. Suddenly as if a fire drill just went off in the room they all fled. They all speed walked to the elevator spotting Jenny's shoe in the hall, her golden bracelet at the elevator's doors and the dent in the wall. Downstairs the atmosphere hasn't changed, the dancing continues along with the heart pounding music that blares from the huge mega speakers. After three hours passed it was ten minutes away from midnight. The audience of students suddenly turned quiet, attentive to the Miss Prickly, an English professor. She held the vanilla white envelope, just like at the Oscar's, in a nice dress ready to present the next Prom king and Queen of two-thousand and eight, at. The silence grew devastating for Matthew as he fidgeted with the cuff of his tuxedo. He suddenly takes a sip of fruit punch, feeling its warm liquid squirm down his dry throat.
"Your prom king is Matthew Conningway". Suddenly Matthew spit up his fruit punch back into the glass.
After a few moments of slight hesitation, he gets up from the table he was sitting in to hear the cheers from his friends standing by the stage. On stage he receives the crown, his heart pounding so loudly he was surprised that the speakers didn't send out the noise throughout the hollow ballroom. "Your prom queen is Jenny Priceler". The teacher says with victory. The ballroom went dead quiet. In one moment Jenny appears from the double doors in her gown, with no bruises on her, she's perfect along with her beautiful fiery red hair that's now down. She's on stage now staring into Matthew's eyes, her face blushing a vibrant pink. He finally smiles taking in a breath, knowing the dumb struck faces his friends were now wearing. We did it, he said to himself in relief, we pulled it off, now its over. The teacher is about to place the crown on her head when he stops her, "Please, allow me". He said. Matthew then places the crown on top of Jenny's head and kisses her. The crowd suddenly began to clap as his friends all sat there in shock suddenly hating them both. Their secrets, he knew now, are out screening across the flat projected screen above the curtain. Everyone but the seven of his friends laughed at the screen merrily taking it as a hysterical joke. They both smiled in delight.