Journey to Psitharis

Chapter 10

Ten

Mrs. Craft found out about the profile right before Thanksgiving break began. After she asked around a little, one of the other kids showed her the profile. Enraged she instantly marched up to Principal Daniels office, demanding immediate action. Turns out Aubrey Ridgely had been one of her favorite students, and she had watched her go from straight A's and talk of full scholarships to solid D's and F's and talk of just ending it all. And she had gone to Principal Daniels that year seeking help for her troubled student. But since it was his daughter who was directly responsible, he told her not to make waves, he would handle it. And he wound up "handling it" by paying off the girl's alcoholic mother after the fact. But now it was happening all over again, and as far as Mrs. Craft was concerned history was not going to repeat itself. She had failed Aubrey. She wasn't going to fail me.

The whole class stopped talking about me for a change. Instead, they all talked about the hideous scene Mrs. Craft caused by screaming at the top of her lungs at the principal, right in the middle of the office. There were threats made, she was going straight to the school board and the media if he didn't take this matter seriously. His calm, condescending voice was no match for her sense of injustice. The result of the blow-up was every trace of that Facebook profile disappeared in the span of a few hours, though not by my hand – and Mrs. Craft was written up for her "emotional outburst." Unfortunately it didn't erase the images. They popped up in so many places they became pandemic. I didn't want to get Mrs. Craft into any additional trouble, so I didn't mention how hollow her victory actually was. I tried to stay away from the pictures, hoping now that they had pulled this stunt and gotten caught it would be the end of it. And it was, for a while.

I heard through the grapevine, by the few people who weren't completely repulsed by me, that one of the parents also laid into the principal, commenting on his obvious lack of ability to control his own children equating into the complete inability to control entire school full of them. Unfortunately for him there was a newspaper reporter who was reporting on a completely unrelated story, probably how the school planned to spend a windfall on new technology. When they caught wind of the remarks "intolerable cyber bullying" and "why is this happening again?" they were off like a shot, new technology quite forgotten. After a little digging this same reporter landed on our doorstep.

It was Saturday morning. My mother was just finishing up her grapefruit and my sister had tossed her glass bowl into the sink, making a hellacious racket. I was still in bed, mulling over the weird depression I was currently dealing with, and it had nothing to do with what was happening at school. I wanted to forget real life for a while. I longed to get back to Psitharis, to escape the hell of this world in the hell of that world. Even though I faced mortal danger in that realm it didn't really concern me. It was better than this.

There was a knock at the door. My mom, still decked out on her pajamas, scrambled to get a house robe so she could answer the door. She had been stringing a new guy at work along for some time now, so I think she was hoping it was a flower delivery or the guy himself, asking her out on a date. What she got was a young lady in her twenties, computer bag on her shoulder and notepad in her hand. It wasn't a welcome sight.

"I don't buy crap from door to door salespeople." She stated firmly, and began to close the door. The young lady stopped her.

"Is this the Parker residence?" the woman asked.

"Yes." My mom's patience was thin. No flowers equated to no interest in the woman standing at the door.

"Hi, I'm Theresa Bennett, I'm with the Chronicle. We're doing a story on cyber bullying and the inability of the school board to handle the epidemic. I'd like to talk to your daughter. A Miss..." the woman consulted her notepad. "...Medora Parker. Is she available?"