I was walking slowly down to the headmaster. I couldn't believe that Mr. Heathmouth sent me down here. But it didn't matter. He would do it to anybody who corrected his little "Gracyheart."
The golden doorknob shook uncontrollable under my hand. I finally pushed it.
"Martha," I almost yelled. She quickly turned around to see me.
"Lydia," she gasped and hugged me. It was so long time ago. Martha was my godmother and a good friend. She was living in the city, until she moved to Pennsylvania with her husband.
"Hey, flowerhead. Shouldn't you been playing with someone at your age?" her husband would usual ask. To be honest, I couldn't believe, why Martha ever married that man.
"Look at you. You're all grown up. The last time I saw you, you were still a little kid. Now, you're this tall," she took my high and added ten more centimeters. I was only 165 cm. Not that tall, compared to my other classmates. She didn't change at all. She still had her good old curly, white hair. She had her usually purple flowered shirt on.
"Martha, what are you doing here?" I asked.
"I'm here for a vacation, Flower. I've got a provisional job as secretary on the school. Isn't that great?" she asked. Flower was her nickname for me.
"But what are you doing here? Shouldn't you be in class?"
I broke down and told her it all and complained about the justice. She nodded and listened. I really needed this moment.
Time flew, and it was obviously break. I didn't realize that Mr. Heathmouth was standing right behind us. Speak of the devil.
"It's so wonderful, how you turn everything around. What do you think, Martharine. Am I right?" Mr. Heathmouth asked. Wait...does Martha and Mr. Heathmouth know each other?
"Leave the poor girl alone. Haven't you've done enough?" she defended me angrily.
"Poor? Poor? That girl isn't poor at all. She is a little, spoiled brat. What is that thing even doing here?" he asked disgusted and pointed at me.
"Uhm...You sent me down here. Remember?" I cut in.
"Shut up, bitch," he mumbled. Martha looked surprised. Just as headmaster Fitzgerald, that just walked in. Karma came.
"What's going on here? Did you just call a student a bitch?" Fitzgerald asked angrily.
"No...no, Mr. Fitzgerald. We were just chatting, right Miss Roselint?" he said, smiling bitterly.
Everybody's attention was on me. Mr. Heathmouth sent me "You better lie, bitch," look. I felt my palms get sweaty. The air was incredible tight. I couldn't feel my legs either. It was now or never. If I tell headmaster Fitzgerald, he could actually fire Mr. Heathmouth. But if I he didn't believe me, my life would be like a hell, not because it isn't right now. Would a headmaster believe a student, or a teacher?
After I've been discussing with myself, I've made my decision.
"Actually..."
A/N: So...what do you guys think that would happen? If you liked this chapter, please review and vote.
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1 year ago (#Wattys2015) (UNDER EDITING)
Teen Fiction"If you ask me, the worst people I know are probably The Crew". This is a story about Lydia Roselint, and her development from the lost girl in a toxic relationship to finally breaking free in a turbulent teenage world. Of course, bullies, frenemi...
