Chapter One: The Man I AmA Chapter by ChelseaChapter One: The Man I Am I enter the Principal’s office. The
overwhelming smell of Fantastic cleaner ruptures my nose. The floors glint of
virginity under the yellow lights. The walls are spotless white, except for the
perfectly straight photographs hung upon the walls. My guess is not far off, Fantastic
cleaner. The principal sits behind her desk. The
desk is made of beach wood and looks as if it’d been smothered in lip gloss. Her
spine is rigidly straight against the back of the chair. The chair matches the
desk, beach wood, but it’s cushioned with a purple fabric cover on the seat. She sits behind her station. Her hair is
pulled back in a tight bun, exposing her broad forehead. Her eyes are circled
with pale brown lines. Her face looks as if it’s about to shatter. Being held
in this fixed state, of superior for so long, has taken its toll. A once young,
playfully beautiful face is worn and ragged. I sink into a chair. Its hard plastic back
tries to kick me out. But I try and sing in harmony with its grooved back. I am
settled when I notice, the principle stairs at me, it intimidates me slightly.
We sit in silence for what feels like hours. However the clock reads a mere
sixty seconds, we sit like this. Our eyes narrowed at one another, in angry
glares. “Mathew,” the Principle finally breaks the
silence with. I put my hands in to the bottoms of my pockets;
they rub against the warm coins stored in them. I turn my stares from the
Principle to look out the window. Outside is the scurrying activity of kids
evacuating school, it’s three o’ clock. I feel the penetrating gaze of the Principle;
however I don’t wish to acknowledge that she spoke to me. “Mathew,” the Principle repeats. “What,” I mumble. The words are hard to speak, I have to spit
them from my crazy glued lips. For so long I’ve been a man of few words, in
hopes of shutting away people. “I must ask you to leave this school,” the
Principle says. I nod and walk out of the room. In the back
of my mind simmers a pot of trouble. © 2011 ChelseaFeatured Review
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21 Reviews Added on February 19, 2011 Last Updated on February 20, 2011 AuthorChelseaCanadaAboutPoetry is an echo, asking a shadow to dance. - Carl Sandburg Hello! Thank you for checkin’ out my page on the café! My name is Chelsea or Chels. I’m fifteen years old, your .. more..Writing
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