BULLY | Heather Williams

You were washing your hands in the women’s bathroom when the doors opened, and you looked up to see Heather, of all people, walking in.

Great. Just amazing.

Heather was talking to her little posse of friends—minions?—when she spotted you, and a wicked grin spread across her blood red lips. “Oh? Look what we have here,” she cooed, walking over, heels clacking against the tiled floors.

Heather hummed, plucking at the collar of your shirt. “Cute shirt. Where’d you get it? Goodwill?” she asked mockingly, and her friends giggled behind her. In sync. What the fuck.

She looked at you through the mirror, this gleam in her eyes you couldn’t quite place, and she whispered lowly in your ear, “Get the fuck out.”

mood: bitter
thoughts: Fuck, just the sight of this bitch makes me wanna rip someone’s hair out. 
Love Level: 0%
Hate Level: 90%