OF ALL THE IDIOTS IN THE WORLD...

                Reading is an important life-building skill that expands our imaginations, but it is disrespectful and rude to read when teachers are talking. There are two people in this world, one who read, and one who write.|

                After a moment of hesitation, I erased the last sentence. That left me with, oh,  twenty-two words. I sighed and looked at the clock.

                10:55 already?

                I decided that I would have to skip tomorrow, and then come up with some excuse for not attending class. I was pretty sure this was easier at big high schools, where I had heard that teachers often forgot that their own students were skipping.

                “Ava, come downstairs now!” My Dad’s demanding voice broke through my thoughts and I left the computer. As I trudged down the stairs, I wondered what I was being called for. Probably the milk incident this morning, or getting in trouble at school… That was another thing I hated about small schools. My parent’s knew everything I did, right or wrong. That’s what I get for living in a town where your neighbour is your teacher, or—

                I slammed into the wall downstairs, my parents staring at me, wide-eyed. My father exploded into laughter.

                “You’re such a klutz. Sometimes I wonder what’s going on in that head of yours. Now, would you care to explain what happened at school?”

                “Um… I was too busy reading and then –”

                My mother’s more tempered side erupted. “Why do you always read? What is so interesting in those books of yours?”

                “I-uh-don’t feel so well. ‘Night, Mom. ‘Night, Dad.” I rushed up the stairs, missed the last one and tripped into the room. I slammed my door and locked it –thank goodness there was a lock on the door—and I jumped into my bed. Reaching under, I pulled up Inkdeath, and started reading. There was a momentary pause as the words my parents had said to me sank in. Why do you always read? I realized that if I hadn’t been reading this book, I would have finished my three-hundred word punishment essay.

                Oh well, I thought as I let the book take me in, and I all my worries faded away as the characters romped out of the pages and into my head.

                The sound of my alarm clock startled me.  Why was it so startling? Simply because I had not changed the clock an hour ahead for daylight savings, so it ringing now meant that… I was late. I rushed out of bed and started searching for clothes. I pulled on cardigan sweater and a pair of jeans, then I quickly combed my hair and brushed my teeth. My parents had already left home, so I could get away without eating breakfast. I took some money for lunch, and then rushed to the door. Suddenly, I remembered. I was sick. I quickly got undressed and then ran back to my room. Turning on my computer, I looked through my agenda. There was an English project due tomorrow? I quickly flipped back a few pages to check for sure. Darn, I thought. There was a project due, and it was a write-up on Act III Scene I of Romeo and Juliet. My fingers flew as I started typing.

       This scene starts off with Benvolio and Mercutio walking around Verona.

                I paused, thinking. Suddenly I realized that Mr. Hugh required an e-mail stating why I was away, and a note following it with a signature. I grabbed a piece of lined paper and neatly forged my father’s signature. Then, I Googled Good excuses for skipping class. I didn’t want to say I was sick, since I had been ‘sick’ two days ago. Suddenly, my messenger bleeped. I stared in half-shock, half-amusement at the bottom of the screen. Anjelie had also skipped.

                ANjELie ROX|| loves the new necklace! says:

                wow fail you skipped too?

               

                Ava H::I’m a BOOKWORMIE says:

                ya.

               

                ANjELie ROX|| loves the new necklace! says:

            hey lets go out! that would be awsome

               

                Although I shouldn’t have, that last line was too tempting. I told her to meet me at the end of our street, and, homework forgotten, I was off.

                Half an hour later, we had reached the duty free shop near the Canada-U.S. border. We looked around, testing perfumes.

                “I think this purple one is quite nice,” Anjelie said as she sprayed it multiple times onto the small testing card.

                “I like this pink one better,” I argued as I sprayed it once or twice on myself.

                “Hey look, it’s the new guy!” Anjelie’s voice dipped into an excited whisper as we looked. He had the same angry glare on his face, and he was leaning in the same pose as yesterday in the cafeteria. I half expected him to walk out and slam the door at any moment, too. Suddenly, we spotted something else in the corner.

                “Crap, it’s your mom!” Anjelie looked in horror as my mother looked interestingly at some chocolates.

                I gasped in horror as we desperately looked for a hiding spot.

                “Over there! Under the table.”

                “Are you stupid? That’s the most obvious place in the world.”

                “How about we leave?”

                “My dad’s probably waiting in the car outside. Not a good idea.”

                “In the washroom!”

                We rushed to the bathroom and locked the stall doors. We gingerly stepped on top of the toilet bowl, trying to find balance around the rim.

                “Why didn’t we close the toilet seat—“

                Anjelie never finished her sentence, as my foot plunged into the cold water inside the toilet bowl. I bit my lip to keep from screaming as I took it out.

                “Ew. Ew, ew, ew!” I looked, disgusted, at my shoe, which was soaking wet.

                And just as I thought nothing could go worse, someone stepped into the washroom. My mother. She tried to open our stall, and then I heard her grunt in frustration—she was obviously suspicious that no feet could be seen under the stall’s door.

                “Is anyone inside?” We looked at each other in horror as she knocked again, then, she left. We sighed in relief, and I started to get down from the edge of the toilet. Suddenly, we heard the door open again. Anjelie started in horror, as she recognized my mom’s shoes. She was with another lady.

                “I just wanted to inform you,” she said with a proper tone, “that this stall is locked and no one’s inside.”

                The lady knocked. I was torn between answering and embarrassing myself and Anjelie, waiting for the lady to open the door, or… escaping to the adjacent stall.

                I was hearing the lock turn while Anjelie and I were, as silently as possible, climbing over the top of the stall. Someone turned on the tap, presumably my mother, and the lady dropped her keys at the same time. Thank god, I thought as both our heads popped over the side. I stared down into the top of a lady’s hair. In shock, Anjelie fell. With a thud, she landed on top of the lady, and I think everyone screamed. The store lady opened the lock, and I looked over my shoulder at Mom, who’s mouth was open in a transfixed way. I blushed hot red.

___________________________________________________________________

          "Do I even need to tell you that you're grounded?"

 

          I stared at the floor as my mother began one of many hook lines that drew right into the what the hell do you think you were doing? speech. 

 

           "First, you get in trouble for reading in class. Then, you skip school because you can't finish your punishment, because you were to busy reading. And then you decide to get yourself into more trouble sneaking out of the house, and going shopping with your friend. By the way, you are now forbidden to talk to that girl, i want you to remove all contact from her immediately!"

 

          But mom!" I was devastated. There was no one who could replace Anjelie, and I needed a best friend more than ever.

 

          "No buts. You deserve every punishment that I'm giving you right now, so don't you dare even think of going anywhere for at least the next three months. That's final!"

 

          I decided that all that I hate you crap and running into my room like everyone does in movies was not exactly what would make my mother see things the other way. This is ridiculous, I thought. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I knew I deserved this, however this punishment was just too much. And to make things worse, Mom was not done yet. Not even close.

 

          "Now, let's head up to your room and remove all technology from it. I want the computer to be in a central location now, so that everyone can access it. Also, your dad's buying a parental control software. It's time we had some discipline in this house!"

 

          I stared in shock. Parental Controls? There were about a million profanities that I could fire at my mom right now. And still, she kept going.

 

          "Young lady, don't you glare at me! You deserve every bit of this! Tomorrow, I'm going to go to school with you. It's only right that the principal and your teachers new of your escapade. And don't you think of rolling your eyes, cause that means double punishment."

 

          When I had been young, I used to roll my eyes at everything my mom said. It had been fun, until that lame double punishment rule. And she was still using it, even though I was clearly not a child anymore. My face flaming, I turned around and ran up to my room. My mother followed, but I was faster. Slamming the door and locking it, I ran to my bed and sobbed. It was my first good cry since grade six, and I buried my face into a pillow. There was no way I was going to let my mother now that I was crying. Right now, nothing else on earth could humiliate me further.

 

          Ava, open that door! I don't want you locking yourself in like that. You remind me of a five year old. How childish. I'm going to have to look into buying a pay-as-you-go plan if you don't come out RIGHT NOW--"

 

          I burst out the door. "Screw you," I said, as I pushed past her and ran for the door.

 

          I ran into my father's beer belly instead.

 

          The parental control software he was holding in his hand flew and hit the flower pot on the table, shattering it instantly. My mom shouted something. Dad swore. Everything was a blur as I dove underneath, between his legs, and unbolted the door. Running out, I realized that my shoes were still in the house. My legs refused to stop. For once, I was glad that my stubborness had overtaken my common sense. I kept running, jogging through a nearby field into the surrounding woods. There was only one thing on my mind--getting away from the private hell that I lived in.

 

 

Reviews

[juwinahaftner]

So, i was reading this over and wondering, can anyone give feedback if you read this? is it good and worthy of continueing? or not? thanks in advance.

[juwinahaftner]

anyone wanna help review this and give some nice, positive (or negative, if need be) feedback? did i make spelling mistakes?