“Whipping boy: a boy formerly raised with a prince or other young nobleman and whipped for the latter's misdeeds.”
Four close to 500 years there has been
a whipping boy in my family. Well, that's until I was born. My
parents couldn't have kids for a while until I popped up. My mother
cried tears of joy while my dad tried to figure out how to handle
this whole situation. My name is Wendy and I'm a whipping boy.
I'm 15 now and asked them to change it
to “whipping girl” until I was 13 but dad said that would create
a whole new situation that made it fine for girls to be whipping boys
and that he didn't want to “make it into a thing.” Every time he
didn't want to deal with something it was a “thing.” Mom hated
the fact that I even had to do the whipping boy stuff. I think she
thought I was gonna start liking it or some shit. I mean, I don't
hate it, but it's not fun either. It would probably be easier if the
guy, Anton, that I took licks for wasn't such a dick. He does stuff
on purpose just to get me into trouble.
Two weeks ago he took a glass of red
punch and poured it all over the carpet while I was downstairs
watching TV. Next thing I know Hanson is dragging me upstairs by the
back of my neck while Anton is smiling. I'm getting ahead of myself.
I should probably, like, tell you who everyone is.
Me (Wendy): 5'8”. Half German half
English. Born in Palos Verdes, CA.
Anton: Spawn of Satan.
Mom: Nice English woman who lost her
accent before I was born. Smart but plays dumb to keep dad happy.
Dad: Stern German guy. Very old
fashioned. Has dressed the same for, like, 20 years!
Hanson: the guy who kicks my ass when
Anton acts up. Not sure where he's even from. Some place evil I
guess. Like Detroit.
“Bet that hurts!” Anton laughs
while I am pinned against the wall and hit with a leather strap by
Hanson. “Oh, I am so not gonna drop stuff on the floor again!” I
block him out most times but I was watching Teen Mom and am pissed
that I'll miss it now.
I'm not allowed to talk back while this
is happening.
I have to admit that this is getting
harder and harder to do as time goes on. I watch shows where girls my
age are hanging with their friends and kissing boys meanwhile I am
schooled at home. I pretty much learn whatever Anton is learning
because as part of being what I am I have to sit through Hanson's
teachings.
Hanson misjudges his swing when Anton
“accidentally” bumps into his arm and the strap hits me across
the back of my neck. I'm not a hundred percent sure what happened
after that. Hanson told my parents and Anton's that I overpowered him
and choked out Anton with the strap. Either way, I'm no longer a
whipping boy.
:)
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