Rose
“You have to find the six of them and kill them.” Rob says. “How do we know which six people have the ability?” Joe asks. “Don’t worry. We have records on all six of them.” Scotch says. “Now choose your weapon,” he continues, showing the three boys a gun, a knife and a mace. The boys exchange glances. “What happens if we don’t kill them?” Matt demands stepping forward. Rob rams the barrel of his gun into Matt’s forehead. “Then it will be the end of you and anyone you love.”
I squeeze past the stampede of shoving children trying to reach the water fountain. I finally reach the old, run-down water fountain. I quickly fill up my Poland Spring water bottle, screw the cap on and run to my next class. Math class. It is utterly boring. Our teacher is old and easily confused by the students. If he gives homework, the students would pretend he never passed it out. I don’t speak out against them and risk getting called a nerd. I sit down at my desk just as the bell rings. The teacher slowly stumbles in. He was mostly bald accept for a few stings of hair on the top of his head. His whole face was saggy and covered in moles. There were more gaps in his mouth than teeth. I didn’t like looking at him so I stare at the smart-board behind him. They say that smart-boards damage your vision. Maybe that’s why I got stuck with glasses but staring at the smart-board was better than looking at the teacher’s noticeable nose hair. The teacher mumbles a question I can’t hear and scans the room for someone to call on. I unscrew the lid on my water bottle and take a long sip of water to avoid being noticed.
When I put the water bottle down, the teacher is pointing at me. “You! You answer the question girly. What’s your name again?” he asks his voice cracking. I sigh unhappily. My stomach drops. “Rose.” I mumble. My stomach begins to flop around. “Right! So Rose, what’s your answer?” I meet his light brown eyes that were mostly covered by his sagging eyelids. Disgusting. My stomach continues rolling around. “Uh . . .” I begin wishing I could focus. My stomach begins to growl like an angry dog. I hope no one hears. Instead of trying to answer the question I start wondering what could possibly set my stomach off. I skipped breakfast. “Yes?” the teacher snaps angrily. I knew he wouldn’t accept “I don’t know” as an answer. But it’s too late for me to ask what he said. I open my mouth to say the answer and my stomach leaps. I barf. On his shoes. He gasps. “Gross!”
My friend Joy walks me to the nurse. She reminds me how humiliating it was the puke in front of the whole class. I sit waiting for someone to take my temperature. I smell of vomit. Barfing made me feel better but I don’t see what made me do it. I haven’t eaten anything all day. A man comes by and shoves a thermometer in my mouth. “What’s your name?” he asks. I lower my eyebrows as if to say “really” and motion to the thermometer in my mouth. “Oh sorry. That was stupid.” The man says. He looks about 20 with short, prickly brown hair. He is pretty tall too. Most of the high school nurses are old ladies. The thermometer finally beeps and he takes it out of my mouth. He looks at my temperature. “98.6 degrees. You don’t have a fever.” He comments. “But we should still send you home just in case.” He adds. “What’s your name?” he asks again this time knowing I can answer. “Rose.” I say and my voice squeaks. I blush. He laughs. “Well then Rose, are your parents at home?” He grins. I blush knowing I sound pretty dumb. “I can walk.” I say quietly standing up to leave.
