Legal Murder

chapter:1

It took Dixie one minute and eight seconds, she'd been counting, to walk across the open-air quad to the history building. She passed a few equally tardy seniors that wore bored expressions and empty backpacks. When she came to a halt in front of her social studies class, Dixie sucked in a massive, please-give-me-confidence breath. Her almost-waist long brown hair was tied back with a blue elastic, and the soft tone of her green eyes darkened as worry set in.

"Dixie, you're tardy." Mr. Ellis stated, his voice laced with disappointment.

"I know. I'm sorry." Her books dropped onto the only empty desk near the front of the room, and she fell into her chair with a huff. Dixie gave the classroom a fleeting moment of observance, and noted the fateful Mickey Mouse analog clock, the long, peeling bookshelf of what looked to be a mix of Harry Potter and Shakespeare, and the multitude of pencil marks etched across the carpeted floor.

The more immature portion of the class snickered behind their social study papers, enjoying the interruption of a speech about Martin Luther King Jr.

Mr. Ellis resumed his vigorous typing at his computer station to the left of the room. Almost as if speaking to himself, the social studies teacher announced with a vague demeanour, "Now that we're all present," he punctuated that, "I hereby inform you all of your Unit Four Civil Rights project."

The class seemed to express their interest and boredom with a collective sigh.

He clicked something on the screen, and the blue reflection across his glasses disappeared. "It's a project to deepen your understanding of exactly what 'civil rights' can mean for our society," Mr. Ellis went to a standing position, and waved back a wisp of his thinning, peppery hair, "each of you must decide for his or herself what the specific topic will be. Anything from woman's rights, to racism, to the effects of uncivilized governments."

The red-headed boy at the back of the room shot his hand up. "Can we work in groups?"

"Of course you can," Benjamin," Mr. Ellis chuckled, clasping his hands closed, "but do you mean may you work in groups?"

The correction caused Benjamin to lower his hand and sink down in his seat.

Dixie's lips twitched up into a smile. It was only the third month into her first year of high school, and she already loved the majority of her teachers. Mr. Ellis especially.

"How many people can be in one group?" A girl in the front asked, glancing back and forth at her many friends.

Mr. Ellis pursed his lips. "As many as you'd like. Remember, though, that this is not a project to test your social skills. This is a project that will deepen your understanding of a specific civil right or lack thereof, and allow you to share it with the world. If you succeed with this assignment, you will not only change as a person, but also gain knowledge that could quite possibly change the world."

Dixie's mind began to churn with ideas. Communism? Racism? Religious freedom? Women's Rights? Nothing, yet, seemed to strike her as something she'd want to do her whole Unit Four project on. As she tapped her orange mechanical pencil against the gum-sticky surface of her desk, she wondered if it was possible for a freshman girl like herself to do as great of things as Martin Luther King Jr. did.

The familiar four tone ring of the period bell woke Dixie from her project daydreaming. She gathered up her things without delay, and shoved politely past the red-headed boy whose name had escaped her, in order to see Mr. Ellis before he got pre-occupied with his computer research again.

"Dixie Simmons. What a pleasure." He smiled, leaning back in his hydraulic-equipped rolling chair.

Her earlier dread of tardiness seemed long forgotten, so she returned his smile. "Mr. Ellis, I was wondering how long the project is exactly?"

He waved his hand in the air as if to say 'it's not set in stone'. Aloud, the professor answered, "You have until January."

"No specific date?"

Mr. Ellis leaned forward. "I don't imagine the great people who have changed this world were on a very tight schedule, do you, Miss Simmons?"

Dixie laughed nervously. "N-No, I suppose not." She hesitated, "But, do you really think our entire freshman class is going to change the world?" The uncertainty in her eyes was almost a look of disbelief.

"I've seen less plausible things happen." He set his finger at the eastern end of his large desk globe, and smiled. "'All that is valuable in human society depends upon the opportunity for development accorded the individual'. Do you know who said that, Dixie?" His eyes flickered up to her's.

She shook her head in confusion.

"Albert Einstein." Mr. Ellis said, in a tone that suggested the answer was no longer important, "Do you know what it means? The quote."

Dixie thought about it before saying with uncertainty, "Nothing can be achieved without the innovation of an individual."

The smile Mr. Ellis had plastering his face was enough to know that he was impressed. "Exactly. And you know something else?"

"What?"

"I think you're going to be that individual."

She smiled, but was very anxious about the whole change-the-world thing. "Well, how do I even begin?"

"From the beginning. Choose a topic."

Then he turned in his seat, and began to rummage through some files.

A few minutes passed. The warning bell rang, and Mr. Ellis' next social studies class began to shuffle in and take their seats.

Finally, the man turned around and planted a beige-colored folder on the desk. He pushed it across to Dixie.

She picked it up, and read the top, "Abortion". Her face fell into a confused frown. "What's this-"

Mr. Ellis gave her a sad smile. "That research was collected many years ago by a boy about your age. To my disappointment, he abandoned the topic because too many people put him down for speaking up. He was degraded because she took a stand. The project was never fulfilled, and here the file remains, collecting dust on an old professor's shelf."

Dixie took in a deep breath, and slipped the folder into her bag. "I'll take a look at it." She certainly didn't want to be made fun of, especially since she'd hardly even made any friends yet, but she wouldn't completely discard the possibility of abortion as her topic.

The girl disappeared out of the room, and Mr. Ellis faced his next set of unfocused freshman.

Chapter Question: Could you see yourself having the the confidence to accept abortion as the topic of your school project?