Kate
School slides by like a slow sorrowful syrup. My feet feel heavy as I wade in and out of the hallway traffic. I move in a trance as a solitary train. The wandering eyes and whispers bounce around my peripheral view, but I face forward in my own tunnel of despair.
Ms. Dooley drums her fingers on her desk as she eyes the windows along the classroom wall.
"Class!" She chirps, jumping up to perch on the corner of her desk, "how about we do an object lesson outside?"
The class lets out a collective sigh of relief. It seems she has forgotten that today is supposed to be a test day.
"And don't you worry," she coos coolly, "I haven't forgotten about your test."
Damn. We slump back into our seats.
The fall leaves crunch beneath my soles as I try to keep up with the springy strides of cheerleader Tasha. Oh the irony… She doesn't lead me to cheer, just pure misery. It was just my luck that she has been my assigned partner.
"C'mon, Scary Face!" Tasha hisses, tossing a glare over her shoulder. She squints her eyes as if she is examining a cockroach.
"Look. I just want to collect this damn moth and pass this class. You think you can be a bit, oh I don't know, not such a bitch?"
Tasha whips around and throws her pointer finger in my face.
"Who ARE YOU to call me a bitch?" snarls, pulling a closed fist back behind her ear.
"I dare you," I whisper darkly, "I fucking dare you."
Tasha leaps forward with her claws outstretched like an angry lioness. My fist connects with her nose and a splatter of blood ruins the chest of her cheerleader uniform.
She bends forward with her hands on her knees. Bursts of ragged breath heave and ho out of her. Her head snaps up as she stares at me with pure hellfire in her hazel eyes. She wipes underneath her nose with the back of her hand and straightens up. Uh oh.
I spin on my heel and tear through the forest, but my frantic gallop is no match for the blonde fury behind me. Tasha swallows up the earth in seconds and kicks the back of my knee.
I crash to the ground in a pile of leaves. Her claws clamp on my right shoulder and she spins me around to where I am lying helplessly on my back. In one quick movement, Tasha pins my throat with one hand and grabs a sharp stick half buried in the leaves. My throat muscles feel as if they are being crushed and I feel dizzy with the lack of oxygen. She's going to stab me, I think as a soft cry escapes my chapped lips. Blood drips from her fractured nose and falls like red rain across my face.