It was my first day at a new school in a new place, and I was not looking forward to it. I had never attended a public school, but my mom told me it was time.
I have never carried a schoolbag before, so this was different. My outdated textbooks weren't the only thing weighing me down, though. You see, the women in my family are all rakshasis.
If you don't know what rakshasis are, we're creatures with the ability to lure people in, then eat them when we feel it's right. Naturally, we aren't the most attractive, with two huge fangs protruding from our mouths and a not-so petite figure.
Luckily, we have the opportunity to shape shift into whatever we want. This makes luring even the least gullible very easy for us.
"Rish, you're seventeen now. You know you have to do this to carry on our family's traditions," my mother pressured.
"Mom, I know," I say, slipping the fresh canvas backpack over my shoulders.
I have never carried a schoolbag before, so this was different. My outdated textbooks weren't the only thing weighing me down, though. You see, the women in my family are all rakshasis.
If you don't know what rakshasis are, we're creatures with the ability to lure people in, then eat them when we feel it's right. Naturally, we aren't the most attractive, with two huge fangs protruding from our mouths and a not-so petite figure. Luckily, we have the opportunity to shape shift into whatever we want. This makes luring even the least gullible very easy for us.
In my family, we don't start eating people until we're seventeen years old, which I now am. Before now, I have been sustained by my mom's cadavers she brings home, but it's time for me to contribute.
My mom starts calling for me to get in the car, so I check the mirror one last time, scanning my black curls for imperfections.
"I have to make a good first impression," I say to myself, pinning down flyaways.
When I get to the car, my mom says "Rishali, you look beautiful. You will have no trouble with your mission."
I hate when she refers to it as a "mission." Last time I checked, there was no brown Charlie's Angel. This is just our way of life, and I have to keep traditions alive if I want my ancestors on my side.
The drive is excruciating. Because of what we are, my mom, sister, and I live in a secluded area in Montana. The seclusion doesn't just help keep us incognito it also helps us find victims easier; the people we find way out here are not the type of people that have family looking for them when they go missing. It's sad, but it does take some of the guilt off my shoulders.
What seems like forever later, my mom pulls into the roundabout by the school doors. There, my mom wishes me well and I walk up the steps to the double doors.
The school is very rural, placed in the middle of nowhere. As soon as I walk, I am drowning in a sea of blonde. Besides at a Trump rally, I would never expect to see this many white people congregating. As I walked down the halls, I braced myself for the subtle racism found in each "what are you" or "where are you from."
I hadn't visited the school before today, so I didn't know where anything was. Rookie mistake. Now I would have to ask someone where the front office was. Maybe this was a good thing, though--I can find a victim quicker. I scanned the hall for someone the least approachable.
Then, I saw them. The Mean Girls of Montana. The way they were color coordinated and disapprovingly looking at everyone said it all.
I started towards them, and the one in the middle caught me in the corner of her eye. They started whispering to one another as I came closer. When I was in earshot, they all smiled their fakest smiles at me.
"Sorry to bother you guys, but I was wondering if you could maybe tell me where the office is?" I asked confidently.
"We'll just show you!" The blonde one says.
We begin walking down the hall, and I am following slightly behind them.
'Where are you from? We saw you walk in and we were talking about how pretty your hair is." The redhead says as the other girls snicker quietly to themselves.
I knew it was coming, but I didn't think they would ask so soon. I put on my fakest smile to accept their backhanded compliment.
"Thank you so much! I'm originally from India and I am very proud of my heritage," I tell them proudly.
"That is so cool!" The brunette exclaims sarcastically.
We arrive at the front office, and I thank the girls for walking me.
As the girls walk off laughing, I stop them.
"Hey! Do you guys want to come over for dinner tonight? I know it's kind of sudden, but I really want to make friends here."
"Of course! I don't really like Indian food, though. Here's my phone number," she says, handing me her phone. "Send me the address."
"We're not having Indian tonight, probably something..." I hesitate. "American."
I sent her my address as they walked away with their heads in the clouds. Little did they know, their heads would be on my dinner table tonight.
Katelyn– first off I want to congratulate you on the format of your page. The pink is so pleasant; you're giving my blog an inferiority complex.
ReplyDeletePlease please keep writing more stories about Rish in high school. I've bookmarked your blog, and I'm hopeful for "Family Traditions" part 2! Your story is so dark, it's awesome. I did not see that twist coming, but a rakshasa in high school is such a novel concept. The Mean Girls vibe is a nice touch. All I could see is a demon in disguise talking to Regina George– so cool! How did you come up with this idea?? Have you ever been to Montana, or is that just the first place that came to mind?
While I do hope that you keep writing about Rish, I can definitely see why you would want to stop the story here. A story on dinner at Rish's would get really dark so fast! The something... American joke killed me. I always appreciate gallows humor, so I suppose I'm your target audience.
I'm bad at actual critical feedback, but I suppose I have to contribute something: perhaps the mean girls could be a little more belligerent towards the title character. They did help her find the office, and they also agreed to go to dinner! I think I would enjoy the dark humor more if the mean girls were even more unlikable. That being said, excellent story!
Hi Katelyn!
ReplyDeleteWhat a captivating story. I also love your blog. The only change I would make would be increasing the size of the author's notes. It was a little too difficult to read. Other than that, great job at telling this story. It was written very well, almost like a novel. This would be a great subject to do a storybook on! Well done.
Hi Katelyn!
ReplyDeleteFirst of all Wow your creativity! Mean Girls is one of my favorite movies it is a very funny film and includes many catchy catch lines. I liked how you told the story based on the girl's point of view because as a reader it was easier to picture what she was going through. I also enjoyed that you included dialogue between the characters instead of it being full narrations, that way we could get a better glimpse of the other characters and their relationship with Rish. It was very helpful that you provided background information on what Rakshasis are, looked and their traditions in the story. If I could request anything would be, what if the story started with her entering the school also providing background info but exploring more of her time in school and with the mean girls. It would be interesting to see the mean girls being more wicked and evil and make the readers really feel good about their bad fate.
Hi Katelyn,
ReplyDeleteI kind of struggled to read the font of your authors note a bit, so if you could make it a bit bigger that would really help me out. I loved how well you captured the nuances of female teen interactions, and I like how you brought up the race dimension. The pov of Rakshasis is definitely a view point that doesn’t get much attention in the Ramayana, and I think it was an interesting perspective to cover. Though we normally don’t have much sympathy for the Rakshasis, I felt sympathetic in this story. I was almost glad the mean girls would be the victims.