This story is written from the perspective of a fourteen/fifteen year old girl.
That means, there will probably be comments coming from the main character. I think by doing so makes it sound more like a real adventure.
written by: lethalspark (klb)
no copyright infringement intended. :)
I. Chemistry Class; March 2006
I'm doing something wrong.
I just know it.
The red liquid in front of me starts to froth and bubble inside the test tube.
I look around frantically at the others' experiments and they're a nice, green color.
The right color.
"Audrey, are you sure-"
"Yes." I snap back at my lab partner.
He shrugs and leaves me to my business. Our business, actually. He justs doesn't want to be a part of it. Trevor --that's his name-- leans back on his chair.
My lab partner is useless, I think.
The teacher isn't that great either.
But he's not as bad as my lab partner.
Yet Trevor's my best friend.
What a friendship.
I sit in my seat and comtemplate about it, leaving my red liquid to do whatever it was doing earlier.
Five minutes later, the red concoction explodes and splatters everywhere, everyone and everything. I resist the urge to laugh. My stomach is starting to hurt.
"Audrey..." My teacher mutters as I watch his face become flushed with anger.
I throw my hands in the air as if I'm a criminal suddenly caught in the act.
My teacher glares at me and I recieve the message.
He opens the door and scornfully watches as I walk myself to the principal's office.
Jeez, this place is freezing, I tell myself.
I'm in the office now. Regardless of how absurd this sounds, I'm not much of a troublemaker. Sounds funny, huh? Lately, however, I've become a bit rebellious. What happened in class was just the beginning.
When the headmaster arrives, he sits in the chair that faces mine. We have a long stare-down before he says anything. I've been told that he could tell if a person was innocent or not just by looking at them. But that was just some rumor.
The teachers here have been known to exaggerate the truth; therefore, the principal can't rely on them all the time with these sorts of things.
He stands and paces back and forth, with his hands placed behind his back.
"Audrey Church" He says.
"That's me." I reply.
He remains silent and refuses to make another statement. He continues to pace with his hands behind his back. The soft treading of his sleek, black shoes is the only noise available. I watch as he goes into another room and closes the door. But it doesn't make it all the way, and I could see a bit of the inside. It appeared to be a fileroom of some sort. The only other item visible was an electric fan. The blades turned quickly, yet silently as he looked around for something.
He extended his hand. I watched intently, glued to my seat. His hand begins to shake slightly. With an abrupt jerk of his hand, a file flies towards him and he catches it. He comes out of the room looking quite worried. He grabs a handkerchief from his pocket and wipes his sweaty forehead. I'm amazed at this seemingly impossible feat, but I keep my composure. I replay the phenomenon in my head countless times until I can remember every last detail.
The principal --his name is Mr. Brian Davis, by the way-- flips through the pages of the certain file. Of course, it turns out to be mine.
"You have a very good school record," Mr. Davis says, astonished.
"I assume most students that are sent to your office aren't normally on the honor roll." I reply. Sometimes, I become too proud of myself. It's an uncontrollable habit for me. I've been "put down" so many times, I have a need to feel better. To be... more special than the rest.
"No," He simply agrees. "But it doesn't mean you're off the hook"
Off the hook. I like that phrase.
I nod. I'm guilt-ridden as I recall the huge mess I created in the Chem Lab. I'll probably have to straighten up the place after this chat.
"I'll send you back to clean that up later." Mr. Davis concludes.
I wait for a few minutes before I speak.
"Is there anything else, sir"
"No. I have an meeting to attend." --He walks me out the door-- "Don't forget to clean. Good day, Ms. Church"
I salute in return. "G'day, sir"
He raises his eyebrow suspiciously and shuts the door.
I sulk all the way back to the Chemistry lab. My sneakers squeak as I walk on the mopped floors of the hallway.
When I reach my destination, I open the door and sigh.
Time to get to work.