A/N: Sorry If Some Of This Story Is Not Historically Accurate, Google Couldn't Be Arsed To Communicate With Me...Apart From That, Enjoy The Story!?

The School Bell Rang, The Bell Of Dismission Off The Supposed Educational Premises. Everyone Left The Premises Apart From Four Seventh-Graders, Eagerly Waiting For News From Their Friend (Who Was Stuck In The Principal's Office). Their Friend, Melody Carlyle, Had Been Caught Up In A Fight Due To Racist Comments Made To Her, Her Parents, Her Ethnicity And Her Illegitimate Uncle, Phineas Taylor (PT) Barnum's Supposedly "Shitty" Actually "Magical" Circus. Her Mother Had Taught Her To Always Try To Keep Her Hands To Herself, No Matter What The Situation Was—The Almost Exact Same As What Her Father Taught Her: Only Swing A Punch If The Opposition Made The First Move. Which Did Happen. And All The Opposition Ended Up With Broken Noses, Arms, Legs, Wrists, Ankles And Some Fractured Faces. Meanwhile...

"Well, Miss Vienna Carlyle—"

"Sir, If I May Object, My Birth Certificate States That Vienna Is My Middle Name, Not My First Name."

"Fine, Miss Melody Carlyle, I Do Hope That You Know Why You're Here," The Middle-Aged Man Says.

"Yes, Sir." Melody Spits. Being The Only Female Student In Her Grade Who Had A Parent Of A Native Ethnicity, It Was Hard For Her To Fit In—Especially When Racism Is Always Around Every Corner, Waiting To Strike At The Exact Point Of Time That It Hurts The Most Effectively.

"Now, We All Know That It's Been A Tough Ride For You Here At This School, But That Behaviour Was Innappropriate And Unnecessary!"

"So You're Just Going To Stand There Like A Fucking Statue And Let Them Break My Only Gateway To Walking?!"

"Enough!" The Principal Bellows, Making Melody Flinch, Looking Down To The Floor. Tears Starting To Fill Her Eyes.

He Sighs. "I Understand Where You're Coming From, But If We Think Rationally, This Will Be A Continuous Situation In Your Teenage Years And Possibly Your Adulthood."

"Wait–Whadd'ya Mean?" Melody Questions, Her Eyebrows Knitting In Confusion, Though She Knew The Answer All Too Well.

"Well...No Offense Intended When Saying This, But Due To Your—Mixed Ethnicity, This Is Going To Happen Throughout Your Life, So You Might As Well Get Used To It—"

That Was The Last Straw, Her Blood Boilling At What Felt Like Nearly 2000.F (1000.C). Her Pink Hair That Was Put In Tight Lace Braided Buns Were Starting To Fall Out Of Place Due To Perspiration. Her Sun-Kissed Complextion Starting To Look Jaundiced Due To Staying In The Stuffy, The Sweaty And The Sickening Office. Her Eye Twitching From Pure Disgust. Melody Couldn't Take It Anymore. She Twirled 250 Degrees To The Right, Pointing To The Door, Wheeling Herself To The Mahogany Door. She Took A Deep Sigh Before Saying The Last Words Of The Meeting.

"If You'd Like To Speak To Me, You Can Speak To Either My Mother Or My Father First. I'm Sure They'd Be Delighted To Hear That The Principal Thought It's Ok To Discriminate Students' Cultures. Otherwise, Good Afternoon," Melody States, Leaving The Principal's Office With A Smug Face Along With Her. After All, She Had Won The Last Words...Who Wouldn't Feel Smug After That?!