my friend blackmailed me and now I want to rip her throat out.

She asked me this morning at school to give me my parents phone number. When I asked why she replied with something along the lines of:

"Oh so arrange to meet up out of school."

And my gullible ass thought she was telling the truth because god damn is she a good liar and we haven't really done anything outside of school so you can hopefully see why I fell for this. So I gave her the phone number to my mum's phone and didn't think too much about it. A couple hours later I was checking the time on my phone. I was waiting outside a room in the music department as I had a keyboard lesson and I wanted to see if I was early or not. I then saw on my lock screen a notification from mum saying (and I quote):

"Pippa, someone's just texted me asking if i'm your mother, as they're a "friend." what's going on?"

(all grammatical errors included.)

I assumed that she thought a hitman was stalking her or something and that my friend didn't include her name and was being all vague, so I laughed a bit and switched off my phone. I couldn't respond then so I would wait until lunch.

At lunch time I was just sitting in my form room with 2 of my friends, her included. I showed her the text message in a laughing tone and she laughed back, probably assuming the same thing I did. Again, I thought nothing about it. I responded with what I thought then and went to the lunch hall. It wasn't until after school when I got in the car and mum drove me home did she mention something that sent me chills down my spine. I was just about to get out of the car and walk to the door when she said something like this:

"Pippa when we get home I want to have a private chat with you in your bedroom."

She was gentle in her tone and I still thought she thought that a hitman was stalking her. I went inside the house. I drank a cup of water in the kitchen. I walked upstairs. I went into my bedroom and switched on my laptop. My computer automatically opens Opera when I log on which automatically opens Duolingo so I can keep my streak and live to see another day. Nothing was diffrent here, it was just like yesterday, it was just like Friday and it was just like the day before Friday. Until mum opened the door right when I was choosing what lesson on Japanese I wanted to do today. She kept her gentle tone, so gentle to the point it was unnerving. That's when I learned my friend's true intention.

Thankfully she didn't tell mum all the blackmail she has of me (she has a collection because I am careless as fuck and I wish I could slap all those past mes in the face); or she did tell mum but mum already knows, either way it still pissed me off. Mum talked about how she thought my friend thought I was bad at music theory even though I'm doing music GCSE. Which let me get something straight: I am not bad at music theory. I am adequate at it and I can't read the bass clef but I still know what I'm doing most of the time and this was coming from someone who's on like grade 5 of singing or something who would tell me to shut up whenever we had to do singing in music because I was "out of tune and ruining her ears." 

The second thing mum mentioned was apparently I got 19% in maths (which is untrue I got 24% in maths. It's a small difference but it still matters;) which prompted her to ask me what my grades were on the summer assessments. Now I was reasonably pleased with my results at the end of year assessments; if I acted disappointed at every percentage I got below 80% like some kind of stereotypical Asian kid I would hate myself so much I would probably go back to self harming, which I've been free from for like 5 or 6 months now. 

(That's not the only reason behind it, it's more complicated than that but considering one point when I was 11 I was practicing some guitar piece for a school concert but I kept screwing it up and I got so frustrated to the point that I would slap myself on the cheek for every note I got wrong which ended in this downwards spiral. Mum heard me and took me to the local park to calm down and that memory not only prompted me to quit learning guitar at the beginning of year 7, but also acted as a warning that there's probably something wrong with me but things are better if I just brush it under the metaphorical carpet.) 

Aparently my average grades of getting 20-50% didn't meet her, already ridiculously high, standards and now she's going to email the head of year or something and, she didn't mention this but I know what she's like, recite this all to dad who will get really mad at me and use his oh so helpful advice of "just do it. If you're bad at a subject then just get better at it, god it's not that hard."

So thanks Charlie. Thanks a whole lot. You fucker. 

Stop trying to trigger my anxiety for one fricking day, will you?