Kate Gildersleeve

MEDIEVAL GIRL

In the old green tent that stood next to the fifty-foot maple tree, Maggie was curled up in her sleeping bag reading her favorite book. She was not exactly what you would call an “ordinary” teenage girl. Her light brown hair was long and wild, her thick glasses were perched on the top of her nose, and she was wearing her grandmother’s wedding dress.

                  At her old school, Maggie was always leading a strike of some kind, or circulating a petition about the harms of dishwashing liquid. Despite her peculiarity, Maggie had friends there with whom she shared everything. Unfortunately, her friendships with these girls had been severed in half by her father’s recent actions. Two days ago, she had been torn away from her small town in Minnesota and dragged to Greenwich, Connecticut. As beautiful as her new house was, Maggie was miserable. She couldn’t imagine starting her life over again as it had taken her almost three years to fit into her old school. And that was in Minnesota. Maggie looked through the tent door, and up into the cloudless cerulean sky. “Perfect,” she muttered. “Just like this goddamn town.” Maggie shook her head, and returned to the adventurous world of Laura Ingles Wilder.

                  Maggie smacked the small alarm clock as it squawked impatiently at 6:45 on Monday morning. Groaning, Maggie managed to pull herself out of bed, put on her glasses, and saunter over to the gleaming mirror on the opposite corner of her room. Her hair was everywhere, her eyes refused to open, and her acne was at its peak. It was a typical day. Looking through her closet, Maggie decided on wearing her favorite dress to the first day of school. Maggie had bought it while she was at a Medieval fair with her friends. She even had a crown of flowers that matched the outfit! After slipping on the dress and the crown, Maggie headed down to breakfast.

                  Her mother turned around to inspect her daughter. Pamela had short brown hair, always wore a lot of make-up, and was quite pretty for her age. She always begged Maggie to put on a little lipstick, or to take more care of her appearance, but Maggie never listened.

                  Maggie’s father lowered his glasses, banged his coffee cup down on the table, and glowered at his daughter. “Maggie, what in God’s name are you wearing? We don’t live in the middle of nowhere anymore! This is Greenwich! I hoped that you would at least try to fit in on your first day.”

                  Maggie glared into his eyes just as fiercely as he had spoken. “For the hundredth time, I like this dress, and I don’t care what people think of me. It doesn’t matter WHERE we are, I will never try and be like everyone else.”

                  Bob Harkins gave Maggie one more disgusted glance before turning his attention back to his coffee and the sports page of The New York Times.

                  Just as Maggie was about to sit down to breakfast, her brother walked down the stairs. Tim was the perfect child. He was friendly, intelligent, and had better manners than a prince. Of course, Pamela and Bob Harkins doted upon him endlessly. Today, like usual, he looked like he had just walked out of a photo shoot for Abercrombie and Fitch.

                  Maggie hated him with a passion. He was one of those typical boys whom everyone loved, no matter what they did. Pretty girls were always calling him up and coming over to the house, drooling over him incessantly. Staring at his innocent face, Maggie suddenly felt furious. She grabbed her bright orange backpack, slammed the screen door shut, and angrily set off for school.

                  When Maggie reached her destination, she instantly felt like she was going to be sick. The street was lined with Porches, Mercedes, and BMWs. A blond girl who was stepping out of her Z3 held her head up high and strutted past Maggie, not forgetting to push her out of her way. When Maggie struggled to regain her balance, the girl lowered her sunglasses, smirked at Maggie’s apparel, and continued on her way until she reached a group of girls who looked exactly like her.

                  The day did not get much better. As Maggie walked down the hall, people gathered around their lockers in little clusters, pointing and laughing. In her classes, all the seats surrounding Maggie’s desk were empty, as no one wanted to sit near the “weird new girl.” Even her teachers looked at her under disapproving eyes.

                  At dinner that night, when Pamela asked how everyone’s day had been, Tim immediately spoke. “It’s great! I love it here! I’ve met so many new friends already! By the way, can I go to a party on Saturday night?”

                  Pamela and Bob looked at each other and smiled. “Sure, sweetie. That sounds like fun.” Pamela fixed her gaze on Maggie. “And Maggie, did you have a good day at school?” Maggie’s silence told Pamela the answer. “Well, Maggie, if you only would try to be more normal, well, maybe you would be having a better time.”

                  The next day, things only got worse. Maggie’s unusual attire got even more attention, and she still had not made a single friend. After eating lunch by herself, Maggie went over to her locker to put away the lunch that she hadn’t finished. There, in permanent black marker were the words “GO HOME MEDIEVAL GIRL.” Maggie couldn’t take it anymore. She broke down in tears and bolted out of the school.

                  For the next two days, Maggie stayed in her tent by the maple tree. She refused to eat, drink, or communicate with anyone. On the second morning, Maggie heard her father marching out to her tent.

                  “Maggie, this is ridiculous. Get out of that tent NOW! You are going to school today, and I don’t care WHAT you say.” When Maggie stayed where she was, her father zipped open the door, grabbed her by the arm, and yanked her out. When she finally stood up, he slapped her. Hard. “That’s what you get for being a stubborn little bitch.”

                  When Maggie got to school that day, she pulled out sandpaper and a rag to clean off the vandalism on her locker. As she was kneeling on the ground scratching away the stinging phrase, she heard loud voices behind her.

                  “Rachel, what am I going to do with my gum? I don’t see a trash can anywhere!”

                  “You don’t, Lauren? What about that one!”

                  “Oh, how could I miss it? Thanks.”

                  Maggie felt something fall on the back of her head. As she cautiously put her hand up to her precious hair, she felt something sticky that was interfering with her usual waves. Gum. As Maggie turned around in horror, she saw that Lauren and Rachel were not alone. The hallways were filled with people, who began laughing on cue. Everywhere she turned, fingers were pointed at her, as the sound of laughter filled her eardrums. A wave of panic swept over her, and Maggie started screaming. She couldn’t stop. It was as if God had given her enough breath to scream forever. Shocked looks overcame the laughter as it quickly died down.

                  When Maggie stopped screaming, her breathing was harsh and ragged. Even though Maggie was not intending to speak, words came tumbling out of her vocal chords. “Why, why! None of you have a reason to treat me like this. I have talked to no one, said nothing to anyone. Yet I still am treated like absolute CRAP. Is it because you’re threatened by me? Because I wear different clothes than what is “popular”? I don’t get it. I have gone through absolute HELL in the past couple days because of you people, and you don’t care at all. You don’t know anything about me! Well, let me tell you something about myself. I am an individual. I am NOT a beauty queen, I do NOT go to the mall every weekend, and I do NOT care what I look like. I wear the clothes I want to wear, and act the way I want to act. I for one, am proud of who I am, which is a lot more than any of you can say about yourselves. All I ask is that you respect me for ME. Not because I deserve to be treated fairly, not because I am standing in front of all of you right now, but because I am a human being. And human beings are not supposed to be treated this way.”

                  The halls rang with silence. A couple people coughed, but no one dared say anything. As scuffling feet moved restlessly, a teacher interrupted the scene and sent everyone to class.

                  At that moment, Maggie had made history. Maybe all those people who had listened to what she had to say wouldn’t change their ways. Maybe they wouldn’t become better people. But that day, Maggie had made them realize something. No matter how different people are, no matter how much they don’t fit in, you always need to respect them for their beliefs. Maggie was never bothered again.