Yeah, I was troubled since the beginning. So many expulsions, suspensions, or just being kicked out of school after the year ended. Nothing really happened in preschool, but it's not like we did much anyway. Field trips were my problem. Every year. Preschool never really had any long bus rides to museums and zoos and all the fun things kids do. It started in kindergarten when I was just any normal kid. Nothing had ever happened before, and as far as I knew, my mother thought I was just a little angel. Never in trouble. All that wishful thinking ended when kindergarten came. Kindergarten was almost over, we had just a few weeks left, so we took a break from learning, which we never really did much of anyway. We boarded the big yellow school bus in the morning when we got there, and started the trip to the Englewood Children's Museum. The bus was terribly hot. It was a hot, humid day in the end of May. Two of the teachers came along. First there was Ms. K. She was a pretty nice lady. She always kept plants in her room, and had flowers all over. They always were in great shape. Outside her window was a great, big red spruce tree. She was that nice kind of teacher that put her own twist on things to make them unique. The other teacher along was Mrs. T. She was more like the kind of teacher that would do her best to make us learn, and not really go out of her way to make things fun. For people like me, who is more of a hands on, do it learner, learning from her is terribly hard. No one really enjoyed her class. Except for snotty little Barbara Newman. She of course loved Mrs. T. She was the teacher's pet. Barbara loved learning, easy for her who isn't, like, dyslexic or anything. Like someone I know. Mrs. K. started handing out little colored sheets of paper with games to play on the bus. Seeing as we didn't have much to do. She was followed by Mrs. T., who handed out a paper displaying the bus rules, the museum rules, and the field trip rules.
"Class, it's important to know what you can't do." Mrs. T. started one of her long rule drones, while Ms. K. rolled her eyes and stared out the window.
"But it's not important to know what you can do," I mutter to myself.
The loud rumble of the bus finally stops it's noise.
"Alright class. Remember to have fun!"
"And every rule I have given," adds Mrs. T. not that anyone cares. We all file out of the bus and into the museum. There is a big glass door with a fancy design in the silver handle to mark the symbol of the museum. The first room we enter into is a big room with lots of cash registers. We split up into our groups with the different chaperons. I am in a group with Sean Inglis, my best friend at the time, Barbara Newman, ugh who likes her, a shy kid named Jacob Walters, and Daniel Sanders with his mom as our chaperon. Ladies stand behind them and one talks real sweetly to Mrs. Sanders.
"Hello, are you with the field trip?"
"Yes ma'am."
We go past the million cash registers and head to one of the activity rooms. The first activity we do is an art craft. The room we go into is decorated with as many art decorations you can imagine, plus more. Paintbrushes, paints, pencils, colors, clay, everything part of art is painted on the walls. Drawings and paintings made by others who have come to the museum before, hang on the wall. Some clay sculptures are displayed in every corner. There are different tables set up for different crafts. The first thing we do is draw pictures. There are many things to draw. You can even sit by a mirror and draw a self portrait. My self portrait looks like a pale blob with some black on top for hair, two green dots for eyes, and a red line for a mouth. Not much of a self portrait, but hey. It was good for a kindergartner. Another table had family tree hangings to make. We would hang string with pictures on one end to a hanger, making the family tree. The next table we went to was a watercolor paint station. We each got our own cup of water, brush, paper, and a cheap paint tray that you could buy for less than a dollar. I kept forgetting to dip my brush in the water, and it kept getting too dry. I was starting to get a bit frustrated. After what seemed like a million times of my brush getting to dry, I was really angry. I shoved my brush in the water cup a little to hard. Instead of splashing or tipping over though, the cup started shooting out water. Raining down on everyone at the table. We were quickly, but kindly, escorted out of the room and into the next. I didn't understand it. What could I have done? Whatever. I didn't do anything. It's not my fault, I thought. But that was only what I thought.
I hope you guys enjoy! I am currently working on a new chapter for this story. Please review to let me know what you thought about my story!