Before the Ever Green (BTEG #1) ✔️

Chapter 5

I am no longer sick, which means I have to go to school. I don't mind school, it's just not fun. I don't have any friends, so all the teachers make me do projects 1.) with people who hate me 2.) by myself.

Personally I'd rather do them by myself, but a lot of teachers don't like me to. Especially Mrs. Roth, my 3rd grade teacher. She'd always pair me up with boys who didn't do work, so it was like I was doing it on my own, anyway, except they'd criticize me if we got lower than an A.

I am wearing a blue dress that cuts off at my knees, and my long brown hair is up in a ponytail. Mom added a small touch, by putting a flower in it, I think it makes me look childish. But, I don't tell her that. I simply grab my brown leather backpack, the money from her hands, and say, "good bye," before walking 45 minutes to school, just like I do almost every morning.

Walking isn't so bad, in fact, I am one of the skinniest kids in class, because of it. Even Sara Jane asked her parents if she could walk instead of taking the bus. I laughed a little when she told her friends that. The bus is the only mode of transportation still running, besides the train and carriage. All cars, bikes, and anything else with wheels were banned about 50 years ago.

The view is amazing, and even though I'm not quit sure what a car is, I am glad they are no longer permitted. Walking is a much better thing, because you can see, smell, hear and touch so many different things. I'm not sure I've ever taken the carriage, but Mom says it's not as good as walking.

I agree.

Odd thing I do #4: I always tell myself whether I agree or disagree with something some one says.

The school in here is kind of small, only 500 kids. We have two schools, the elementary, grades K-6 and the high school, grades 7-12. I am in 10th grade, and most people think I am supposed to be in 7th, because of my height, aka I am really short.

It doesn't bug me, I've grown too used to it, just like I've grown used to being different, and unaccepted at this school, because of my mom. But, I really don't care. I am glad my mom is who my mom is, and I am glad I am who I am. Sometimes, though, I do wish I were accepted into games in Gym, and that the P.E. teacher didn't have to choose a team for me to go on, because no one wants me, and I am the odd number.

The school bell rings, and I head to first period, math. I am pretty good at math, though I really hate Algebra, and the Pythagorean therm, which I was asked to write on the board, and solve the equation. I do, and c= 24. I am glad I received a problem that didn't come out a fraction.

I hate fractions, they are so annoying.

The day flies by Math, Science, Language, Basic History, P.E. and now, it's lunch. Lunch is the worst, because I am in a room filled with screaming kids, and people making out, and I am sitting alone in the corner at the small tea table the principle brought in for me, so I wouldn't have to sit on the ground, because everyone else kicked me out.

So, here I am at this small table, with nothing but a small book in my hand, watching Sara Jana make out with her boyfriend, John, who's on the football team. Coincidence, I think not. Sara doesn't really care about him, she just cares about his status. That is easy to see, but John is just another stupid kid, who likes Sara because she has 5 foot legs, and pretty face, which she has to cake with makeup. I am surprised she can afford it, being as her parents make less than my mom.

I try to ignore that fact that my table is not 5 feet away from the bathrooms, and all I can smell is sewage. I try to cover my nose with the white sweater I put in my bag this morning, but it doesn't help, even though I just drenched it in the perfume my mom bought me last year, hoping I'd actually use it.

Well, guess what, I did Mom.

Odd thing I do #5: I try to tell people 'I was right, you were wrong' with out actually using those words.

Jenna comes out of the girls bathroom, with her skirt so high, I can practically see her butt. It disgusts me that they are okay with that, but just as Jenna was hoping, she has a line of guys following her to Sara. I can hear her, slightly saying, "Iny meany mi ne mo," like she is picking which guy to make out with. Those were the popular kids, the kids practically everyone wanted to be like.

Everyone but me.

Who would want to be like those stuck up bitches, who care for no one but them selves, and wear so little clothing, it should be illegal? Answer: Everone but me, apparently, because I am surrounded by idiots.

Who are these idiots?

You have the nerds, who get all A's and have joined at least 5 after school clubs, each. Next to them are the musicians and singers, and to the right a little bit, you have the dancers and gymnasts. Then, of course, there's me. The one no one really cares about, or even knows exists, until they need someone to pick on.

So, for an hour, I have to pretend I am back at the house, in the meadow, reading instead of in this hell-hole, I call school. "Hey," I hear someone call, and I look up from my book, "You're that crazy bakers daughter, right?" John asks, and I just ignore him, and go back to my book. He won't get to me, so why fight back? "Hey! I asked you a question," he says again, trying to grab at my dress, but I just knock his hand away.

"I don't need this, John," Sara Jane says, "I'd rather go to the bathrooms," she whispers in his ear, I guess hoping I won't hear, "She's not worth your time,"

He looks at her, "You're right," he says, before they make out, right in front of me. I want to puke. Instead I just turn my attention back to my book, or at least try, before John takes it, and I finally break, "Hey!" I yell, "Give it back!"

Sara is just laughing, and laughing, and laughing. He tears out the pages, and throws the empty cover on the ground. I want to hurt him, but I just take a deep breathe, and when they leave, I grab another book out of my bag.

I never tell Mom about stuff like that. I don't want her to know, and I don't want her to worry. So, when I get home, and Mom asks me how my day was, I respond with, "Fine, just another normal day," which it had been. Stuff like that always happens, but I've learned to not let it bother me. I use to go to bed right after school, and cry. When Mom'd come in, I'd tell her I failed a test, or the teacher picked on me because I did the homework wrong.

Now, after years of this, I just let it go over my head.

I grab an apple, and some glue. I picked up all the pages off the floor at school, so now it's just a matter of putting the book back together. I head up to my room, and shut the door with a chair.

I bring the small stool by my bed, over to the desk, and lay out all the pages. It takes me an hour and a half to get all 357 pages in order, finding I was missing page 274, which just happens to include my favorite part. After that, I just take page after page, and put it back together. Once the glue has dried, I put it on the book shelf with the rest of the books I've had to fix.

There are so many. It's really sad.

I pull the chair from under the door nob, and put my school bag on it. I have a lot of homework tonight, so I hurry to get started. Math, Language, Science, I do history last, because it's my favorite. Learning new things I didn't know about my past, how I came to live like I do, now.

It doesn't tell us much, just what they think we need to know. Who decided they know best about our education? Don't they understand that not only the rich will go onto being rulers? Apparently, we, the lower class, don't need to know much. Only those who are rich need to know. Because only the rich will get the good jobs.

This my my life.

This is how I have to live; in a world where if you don't make more than $20 a month, and wear good clothes, you are an outcast, and don't matter. Not even if your the smartest person in the room.

You don't make the money...you don't get the job.