Wonderland

Bad News

I walked down the hallways, clutching on to my handmade doll, Hadley. The stares were everywhere. I looked down at my black, glossy shoes and the blue and white tile floor. I wondered how I was still here.

Suddenly, a group of tan legs walked up to me. I looked up and saw Bianca and her little posse.

“What have we got HERE? Is there something wrong, Bridgette?” Bianca teased.

“Yeah,” I muttered.

“WHAT?” She screeched.

“YOUR FACE! IT’S A LITTLE MESSED UP!” I dodged at her until Mark Waters, her boyfriend, grabbed my wrists and threw me to the ground. I looked him and snarled.

“Wow, Bridgette’s an animal! A *******, maybe?” Mark yelled. I stayed in my crumpled up position on the ground, knowing if I got up, Mark would throw me to the ground again.

I kept a tight grip on my doll, being careful to keep it out of harm’s way. Suddenly Bianca looked in my direction. “Ooh, a DOLL! MARK? Thinking what I’M THINKING?”

I grasped Hadley tighter and tighter as the group approached me. But I didn’t grasp tight enough. Bianca snatched the doll out of my hands and ripped it’s head off!

“HADLEY!” I rasped. Bianca’s surprisingly iron grip ripped Hadley in to smaller and smaller pieces, until I couldn’t take it anymore.

I dove on Bianca and pulled at her hair. I punched her face, ripped her new Juicy Couture handbag, and grabbed what was left of Hadley. But before I knew it, Mrs. Abbott grabbed me and yelled in my face,

“WE DO NOT TOUCH OTHER STUDENTS LIKE THAT! UNDERSTAND???”

“Yes Mrs. Abbott.”

“APOLOGIZE TO MISS FRENCH!”

“I’m sorry, Bianca,”

“LOUDER!”

“I’m SORRY, Bianca.”

All I could see of Bianca was a pink ball on the ground, making howling noises. So I didn’t really see why the apology was necessary.

“Good. Now OFF to the Principal’s office!”

I shuffled on the the most familiar place and Mountain View High, and Mrs. Abbott went off into the teacher’s lounge. “Good morning, Mr. Parks!” I said as sweetly as I could.

“Ahh, Bridgette. What’s the trouble today?” Mr. Parks sarcastically replied.

I looked down at the ground avoiding his gaze. “I kinda tackled Bianca, sir.”

“Well, let’s talk about this, shall we?” I listened to his “friendly” tone and scowled at the ground.

“Why would you tackle Bianca?”

“She was bothering me.”

“Is it OK to tackle people when they are bothering you?”

“No.”

“Then why did you?”

“She and Mark ripped my doll and I got REALLY mad.”

“Bridgette, when something happens like this, come here ASAP. Don’t let her get to you.”

I really didn’t feel like listening to him, but at the moment I felt like I was going to explode.

“Okay, Mr. Parks.” I mumbled.

“You may be excused to history.”

I ran into the school hallway to get my books for my first class of the day. I darted to my locker and put in my combination, 782637. but my locker wouldn’t budge! I tried to dial in the combination again, but it still didn’t work. After 17 tries, I pounded my fist on the locker until it finally opened. I grabbed my Connections to History and my folder and slammed my locker.

When I walked in, Bianca giggled, but winced from the pain of the horrible scar on her face from the fight. Miss Patterson glared at my until I took my seat.

“Okay class, resuming our lesson, please turn to textbook page 79, Read paragraphs… 1, 2, and 4, and write down the routes to South Africa they state in those 3 paragraphs.”

I looked down at the blank sheet of paper she handed out before I came in. Stupid history. Stupid Miss Patterson.

=========

Finally, after a LOT of skimming through my textbook, I had made a decent paragraph about the stupid routes of South Africa. Before I could head off to math, Miss Patterson called me to her desk.

“Hello, Bridgette. How has your day been?” She asked me.

“Violent,” I replied.

“Bridgette,” She whispered. “Today,I got a call from your parents. You’re going to leave early. I don’t know why, but it sounds serious. You’re dismissed to the office.”

“Have a good day.” I smiled at her.

My stomach was in a tight knot as I walked to the office. What would my parents take me out of SCHOOL for? A family vacation? No. Realitives visiting? Never. I hurriedly opened the door to the office to find both of my worried parents looking at me. My mom was the first to speak up.

“Bridgette, I know this is going to be hard on you, like, really, really, hard, but we have to.”

“What? What do you have to do???”

My dad managed to rasp out, “Bridgette, honey, you’re switching schools.”