"Robin, please sweetie, just try it! All the other girls are having so much fun!" I pleaded with Robin, a seven year old in the gymnastics class that I taught, for about the twentieth time.
"Ms. Rodriguez, I told you, I can't do a cartwheel! I'm horrible at this! My Momma said it would be easy and fun! I'm horrible at this and I don't wanna do it and I wanna go home!" the poor little girl sobbed.
" Robin, honey, I give up. If you don't want to go have fun with your friends, then you just sit over on that bench right there, okay? I want the other girls to be able to have fun so you come and participate if you want, or you go sit over on that lonely bench all by yourself, okay Robin?" I told Robin. I had had enough with this girl. For the past three weeks, she had done nothing but complain and cry and some of the other girls' mothers had been complaining that their daughters had told them that I was always talking to one girl, and that I didn't like the other kids. "Do you understand, Robin?".
"I don't like you, ya know. You don't help me, you just yell at me." just as Robin finished her statement, I heard a little chime. It was two forty-five; clean up time.
"Good job today, everyone. Stacy and Gemma, you girls pick up the foam that has found it's way out of the foam pit. Collette, you are going to pick up mat One, Taylor, you pick up Two and Sidney, you pick up number Three. The rest of you get your jackets on." I would deal with Robin later. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
"And then she said that all I did was yell at her!". I was telling my amazing friend that always smells like peaches, Emilia, about Robin.
"Well, she is only seven..."
"But still... Oh my gosh!" I had been looking around and I had suddenly seen it. The ancient painting my ancestors had pasted down for decades was shattered, on the floor. How it had broken, I didn't know. What I did know was that it had been my sister, Pepita. She had always been jealous about how I got the painting, and the last argument we had had about it had ended with her saying that something bad was going to happen to it. Oh, she was in for it now.
"PIG! Get up here right now!" As I heard my sister run up the stairs, I planned what I would do. I would confront her slowly and if she didn't 'fess up, well, I'm the best female wrestler in my school.
"You broke my painting!"
"I didn't!"
"You did!"
"You blame me for everything!" Well, that's when I did what I always do. It's just my thing. I punched her square in the face and was horrified when I saw the amount of blood pouring down from both of her cheeks. I suddenly realized I had made one of the biggest mistakes of my life.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Author's Note
Hey guys, please tell me down in the comments below if you liked this story or not and why, so that I can improve my work. Thank you guys so much!
YOU ARE READING
Just Me Myself and I
ChickLitAinsley Addassa Rodriguez lives in a country with no name. Her family is religious, yet non-religious. She teaches gymnastics to whiny seven year olds. This is her life. Until the one day when everything changes. The day she fractures her sister's n...
