There's a frog in my throat

She sat stiffly on the lit in the girls toilet and held her trembling hands in her lap.

Her eyes sat fixed on the petty doodles on the wall. Meaningless sayings such as ' I ♥ Billy 4ever, or Katie is a Bitch' decorated the peeled off, white surface. Only the forever dripping taps filled the silence of the cellar-like room.

Inside her head she recalled the latest events. The harsh words of her schoolmates and the following cheers and laughter echoed in her ear. She clutched her hands in her lap and clenched her teeth to fight back tears which were dangerously close to falling from her eyes. She felt her throat tighten.



There it was again, that horrible feeling of being chocked, which usually resulted either a lasting hiccup or vomiting. She panicked and held her breath in order to keep away the fretful consequences. She didnt want to vomit for the little veins on her skin would always pop up which made her look as if she had drawn some kind of abstract art of red lines on her face, nor did she want to hiccup. Both of those habbits would only cause more attention from the other pupils. Something she could definitely do without for she had already had her daily portion of it.



Lost in thoughts she didnt hear somebody coming in. She startled as she heard the lit next door being carelessly pushed open. The jolt effected her to exhale audibly, immediately causing her to hiccup. The sound escaping her throat resembled the quacking of an ailing frog. She pressed her hand to her mouth bashfully as she listened carefully for a response. But all she could hear was the jet of urine hitting the porcelain.

Once again she held her breath counting the seconds until the other girl would eventually finish urinating.

Another hiccup.

Irritated she rolled her eyes.

The girl next door started to hum a tune as she ripped off some toilet paper and most likely folding it neatly before cleaning her genital.



Yet another hiccup.

The humming stopped.

"Tampon?" asked the girl next door.

She straightened up "Wh...what?" she replied hesitatingly with a shaking voice.

"A tampon? Do you need one?" she repeated sounding self-confident, sounding like the type of girl who'd mock her if she saw who she was. She started searching her bag for a tampon before she even received an answer. Keys clinked together and books were unpacked.

"Uhm no..no thanks anyways." she said with one more hiccup following.

The girl growled slightly as she shoved her things back in.



She grew even more frustrated with her hiccup and expected it to continue for at least another lesson so she silently made the decision to stay right where she was. She might as well stay forever. Nobody would miss her anyway. Nobody ever noticed her. The toilet sit-in has become an almost regular ritual to her.

She could be present for four lessons, disappear for two then reappear again and nobody would say a word. Nobody noticed. Or maybe they did but they just didnt care.

The only time people took notice of her was when she sat on a bench all alone at lunch break, unwillingly chewing on the sandwich her mother made at night, before passing out with her usual amount of alcoholic beverage in her system.

The girl carried the smell of it. The kids say she could be smelled from miles away. Theyd tease her saying her mother washes her clothes in beer. Even her sandwiches stunk like being dunked in beer. They smelled that bad the girl could hardly swallow it but she did it anyhow knowing her mother was only trying to be a good parent. Everyday shed be confronted with a tasteless joke by some cocky kid.




By now tears were rolling down her chin. She sniffled.

Then she heard the toilet flush.

Seconds later a knock on the door.

"Hey are you okay? Whats wrong?"



"Theres a frog in my throat." she answered, her voice cracking.



She could tell the girl was confused, probably shrugging before cheerfully saying: " Oh okay then, Later! "



Another indication for her to label the girl as 'one of those'.

She sighed, shaking her head as she followed the clicking of her heals, waiting for what shed do next. But the clicking faded as the girl walked out of the door and into the hallways of the school.



'Yeah she had to be one of them. Only those kind wear high-heels, hum an annoying tune while they wipe off their cunt and leave without even washing their hands'.