Netball, the game I hate most.
"Velma, centre." Barked the teacher; I dragged my feet glumly, to the middle of the court.
Daphne Blake smiled sweetly, her competitive crystal eyes on me, ready to strike.
I felt vulnerable, standing alone facing her. Away from my own group of friends.
Miss blew the whistle and the ball was thrown. Daphne caught it easily. And within moments scored the goal. Her friends cheered, Daphne made a loser hand gesture. And smiled to herself, she enjoyed the attention. To receive more she done a back flip. I rolled my eyes. This is what I have to put up with for the rest of my school year, every little thing Daphne was praised- sorry I mean worshipped by her followers.
This time I had the ball, my blotchy knees shook nervously, when the teacher looked away, one of the Bitches pushed me. I tripped over and lost my glasses, unable to see, I crawled helpless on the floor searching for my glasses.
But my glasses weren't lost; Daphne Blake held them in her manicured hands.