the mean girls
A happy couple enters the party dangerously close to one another and obviously deeply in love. He knows nearly everyone and has become accepted into this tight group of friends with affection. She is new to the group and still vulnerable to a drive by or becoming a victim to a non-accidental shooting. They enter and people come to greet with warm hand shakes and hugs all around. He grabs a beer and she grabs nothing knowing to keep her wits about her in these crocodile infested waters. It's only a matter of time before one snaps.
He is the heart of any party, the welcome fresh breeze to a stale room. He does not command attention or seek recognition, he does not have great stage presence, but he is loved and it shows in the faces of the people who gather around. He does not leave her side. He keeps her close and tries to protect her, but his own delight in seeing happy friendly faces causes his blindness.
The pack of sharks start to circle behind the kind man, with not so subtle gestures they point towards the girl and start to laugh. Pointing and laughing, laughing and pointing this continues longer and longer. The boys around the mean girls smile weakly and offer a quiet "shhh" as the girls get louder.
She feels her face redden as embarrassment flushes her skin and makes her sweat. She glances around the room for a friendly face and sees one briefly, but no help is offered. No lifesaver is thrown into the water, nobody answers the silent SOS and she gulps air trying to control the panic that is starting to settle into her bones. It is obvious these are not her people.
The panic that turns her stomach sour, her palms damp and heart pounding is the absolute fear of social humiliation and persecution. Shunned and expelled from the warm comforts into the cold night seems a good alternative to staying inside and getting scorched.
The compulsion to disappear is overwhelming, she grabs her coat and politely excuses herself from her sweet love to vanish into the cold arms of the vast outdoors. She must run the gauntlet to escape and braces herself for the assault. Mean girls always crowd the exits and entrances, because it's the easiest way to take a stab when a crowd is forced to move single file.
She squares her shoulders, involuntary shivers, takes a breath and starts walking. You can hear the mean girls take a collective inward gasp of delight as they watch chum coming in their direction, unprotected and quickly deemed prey. Her heart pounds and she feels the violent flood of adrenaline as her fight or flight instinct takes control. Run or fight. Run or fight. Run or fight.
The girls stare with orgasmic evil smirks as she walks by, but they wait until she's out the door before they start their verbal barrage thinking she can't hear, but the window is open. These mean girls aren't confident enough to say it to her face because they sense something that threatens their poglet. Her confidence is an aside to the mean girl persona, because she will turn and attack a group of sharks even if she's a lone dolphin in a sea of degradation. Beware mean girls because this dolphin has teeth, compassion and a healthy sense of right and wrong.
She stops outside as she hears the cruel words spill from their mouths like putrid rivers of uneducated filth that stink up the room with decay. How can people be so hateful?
It would be a nice to think she carefully chose her words, but she didn't, it was merely her character's reaction to depravity. She turned and did not take the time to square her shoulder, but pulled the door open looked at each member of the group and calmly stated "I heard that".
Given the opportunity to feel remorse most healthy people would be quiet and express shame when caught performing such repugnant vile acts, but not mean girls. They laugh, because they believe
their own perversion and it pollutes our world with oceans of toxic waste.
Standing in the pure white falling snow, she slowly stops, turns on heel and steps back to call through the window for her love, clearly expressing a need to leave. The message makes it to him and he immediately seeks her out and they abandon the party.
She has grown weary of the taunts and cruel words that have been a part of her entire life. Persecuted for her thoughts, appearance, likes, loves and passions. She thinks of cutting herself off from the world and cocooning herself in a place filled with warm pillows and gentle thoughts, because the cold fist that clutches her heart won't release and in an instant of weakness, she cries.
She wonders how to live and if she can accept the ignorant, cruel, stagnant, horrible mean people that are a part of the kind, warm, sweet gentle world. Karma keeps her tepid with thoughts like: you reap what you sow, but it's an empty comfort and makes her feel despondent.
In these moments she seeks justification for meanness. She declares fate to be her sword, but that's something said by the persecuted. The hurt is deep, bruised and blistered. The idea of becoming a recluse seems like a good option, but she refuses to hide. They will not beat her down because she does not give them the power. She is serene with compassion and rather than thrust thoughts of hostility into the universe and put violence into her soul, she will forgive.
Having survived their own share of savagery, these over forty women should support each other, but some never graduate grade school. Has there not been enough education on bullying? Are women so callous they don't understand each cruel word, mean gesture and angry stare is hurtful? Some will never grow beyond their own backyard and she feels pity that lives should remain so vacant and unhygienic filled with cavities of infection and decay. They have defiled and defecated their own character.
It is difficult to rise above, feel the pity and see the sadness that must fill their violated lives, but the comfort of consciously choosing to live a clean, honorable, healthy, loving life warms the most damaged hearts.
There is no educating, no way to clean away the filth of verbal atrocities without conscious awareness. Learning about herself and how she reacted to cruelty is a telling sign of her character. She did not give a vicious swipe back as she had in the past. She did not berate them with a verbal barrage of hatred. She did not walk away a victim in silence, but stated her case, gave them the opportunity to repent and when they chose evil she walked away feeling clean.
She is filled with pridefor being kind, even under extreme malevolent pressure. She seeks a reason to keep people like this in her life and not even her truest love can make her go against her heart, but if he is her love then he wouldn't want to lose time with people so full of malace and cruelty.
Without the mean, would we really appreciate the good? Without the putrid stink of rotten hearts would we clearly see the glowing golden wings of angels? With good comes bad, with virtue comes evil. There is no separating the two, but we get a choice: Which are you?
Do you welcome new comers? Do you stand and defend when someone else is threatened? Are you the knight, jester, king, queen, judge, jury, executioner or bystander? If you won't lead will you still follow a bad leader? Choices. Choices you make that will affect how you live your life and how you live your life affects you.
"The purity of a person's heart can be quickly measured by how they regard animals." Anonymous
