daddy - j.m

chapter 38 - english

Blossom Lowe

Thursday night I sat up working on my short story for English. I guess it was a mental and an emotional challenge to get it over with. To write the words down in a descriptive way that could catch the reader - Ms Lamar. I struggled coming up with a plot.

I couldn't just put my dad killed my mom and I have to live with other family members because he is dangerous. I miss my mom. I miss my dad. I get annoyed with my sister sometimes and she gets annoyed with me. I love her.

I decided on a young, young girl being the main character. After creating about two pages full of sentences I noticed something I had not fully decided on - the story was in first person's point of view. It came by accident. I realized that I could not hide from the fact that this was my story and that I had to tell it my way.

I was happy with the work I had gotten done, as happy as you could get at 4:50 am knowing that the morning was right around the corner - whether I had gotten sleep or not. As happy as you could get writing the story of a happy family being sliced in two, three pieces.

This, of course, caused my face to be everything but pretty by the time Jason came to wake me up in the morning. "Do I have to go?" He chuckled at my complaining. "Yes! This is the last day of your first week. It'll only be easier from now on."

"I'll go if you make me breakfast. And give me a ride." I mumbled and quickly added something to cover up the spoiled attitude. "Please?"

"Of course, yeah, yeah."

-

I sat in English class and waited to be the one to hand the short story in to Ms Lamar. Samson's name was called and a bunch of his friends snickered at the obvious F-quality work he was walking across the room with. Then he came back to his seat next to me, and sighed. "Dad's gonna murder me for these results."

Something with his sentence was disturbing, it had me zoning out of everything that was happening. He made a comment with ease, without any bit of seriousness in his tone - but he could just say that his dad was going to kill someone. His dad would never, mine would, mine did.

"Blossom!" I heard a few people yell. I looked at Ms Lamar who had an eyebrow cocked my way. "Are you going to hand those papers in?"

"Yes." I flushed and stood up, making my way to the front of the classroom. "There you go."

One by one, we had to walk up there and leave our projects. This way, Ms Lamar could easily see who handed them in and not. It took some time but I guess that was the way she wanted to do it. "Okay, class."

"You didn't think I'd have these all to myself, right?" She chuckled and quickly looked through them. "Any volunteers to read theirs to the class?" My heart started beating harder. This could not be happening.

"No one? Okay. I'll pick someone out of this stack then." I leaned onto Samson's shoulder. "If she picks me I might just have to kill myself."

"Blossom!" The sound of my name was the last thing I wanted to hear. "Let's all hear Blossom read her story called The Sixth!"

"I- I don't want to." Sandra leaned onto her friends while laughing a bit, which did not help my exploding nerves. "Do you want me to read it? You won't get the same grade but-"

"I'll read."

"Great." She smiled, not knowing how offended I was that she threatened me with my grade.

I had my paper handed to me and I was sure that my heart was going to stop at any second. "So it's called The Sixth, as you know, and it's a special date for this girl in the story. Not for me. For this girl."