Another Monday morning, Eudora has no real reason to get out of bed. She lies half dead beneath the covers and debates weather or not to down the bottle of pills she's slowly been sneaking. Methodically and without any emotion this 16-year-old body showers and gets dressed. Eudora trudged into the cheerful kitchen where she is uneasy. The warm welcoming d├ęcor constantly contradicts her sorrowful soul. After taking a few bites of a crunchy toaster Ego she scuffs her tiny fee along the cool tile floor and back into the solitude of her room. After a glance at the clock, Eudora hurls herself into a ball on the carpet. In another twenty minutes her fascist mother will call for her and send her off the school. There was no need to apply any make-up or fix her hair. Eudora had no one to impress and so she lies there, still, frozen in time. Wet curly hair fell down her back and her beautiful blue eyes were now swollen and blurred from her usual morning ritual of crying and convulsing.
"Five minute warning," Mrs. Riley yells. This was Eudora's cue to wipe away the tears, put on a happy face and smile through the pain.
"Good morning mom," she said without feeling.
"Did you finish your homework? Have you remembered everything? Make sure you turn all your assignments in on time," she trailed off. Eudora stood at the door enduring her mothers strict nagging with an obedient stare. "Give me a kiss, " Mrs. Riley demanded, and on command Eudora did so. After the false and meaningless kiss goodbye she left for school.
Eudora makes her way into the school's main social hangout. Her eyes scan the hallways for no apparent reason. It's just the same old thing day after day. Miss Abercrombie holds hands with Mr. American Eagle. Everywhere she sees walking talking billboards. The school has transformed into some kind of television and the students are mere superficial Gap commercials. Eudora lets out a sigh of pity for the stereotypical students trapped in their bubbles of materialism and then takes a deep breath for her own sanity. It's always been awkward for her to endure the gossip that goes around but she's learned to hide all emotions.
Across the crowd Eudora spots Madison, Elaine, and Jessica. They are just about to go into the bathroom and stand in front of the mirror. Eudora catches up with them and they all exchange meaningless "hellos." Jessica is always the quickest to judge. She stands 5 feet 6 inches and about the same around. Eudora detests her prejudiced views. She hates her ignorance, her lack of personality, her crudeness, and not to mention her obsession with looks. Jessica means nothing to Eudora. Hypocritical Jessica glares at Eudora's wardrobe with dissatisfaction. In a gesture that is intended to be both nonchalant and as obvious as possible, Jessica hints to Madison that Eudora is wearing a black shirt and brown shoes. They both laugh, suddenly feeling superior to poor little Eudora who could care less if her old sandals don't match an old T-shirt she threw on because it was clean. Madison empties her purse and cakes on some more make-up. "Like oh my god Madison, that eye shadow is so cute. Can I try it," Elaine asks, wide-eyed at the very sight of make-up.
"Oh, sure hun. Check out my new lipstick too. I picked it up yesterday at the mall."
Jessica remarks on how great Elaine's recently plucked eyebrows look and Madison boldly states that she is getting hers waxed tomorrow. While Elaine samples Madison's make-up and realizes that it so her color, Eudora spectates in the corner. She realizes how shallow all of her "friends" are and it makes her sick to her stomach. Eudora feels so out of place. Never has she plucked her eyebrows! She's taken a razor and shaved off the beginning of a slight unibrow but not once has she been to the salon and gotten them waxed. She's also taken that same razor and cut her own unworthy flesh to ease the blinding pain of a harsh world that doesn't give a damn whether she lives or dies.
Class is hot. Too hot. Eudora's palms break into a nervous sweat but this is nothing new. Her heavy jogging suit isn't the cause for these inconvenient perspirations. The air is humid, hot and sticky. Her mouth is parched and feels like sandpaper to her tongue. Warm slimy mucous drapes itself over her teeth that still linger with the taste of toothpaste. Lighthearted Eudora sits, half asleep still and waiting for the bell to ring. Another thirty minutes, she sighs. Taking her bloodshot eyes off her desk she peers around the classroom at the students. They all seem so content. So normal and at ease. Eudora secretly wonders if her pretend personality is as convincing.