Akeromebye
*sigh*
I'm writing a new book, and idk where else to post it. Well Wattpad but I prefer not to be there for personal reasons. I hope u guys like my story and any feedback would be happily accepted. Thank u.
Trial 1
5th Grade
(1) Mr. Crook
I’ve always been the ugly duckling. For as long as I can remember, actually. It all started when I was in the fifth grade.
Paper balls and planes flew around the room, similar to shooting stars. While the chaos of my classroom ensued, I just sat there silently, not uttering a single word.
I never had friends, except for Noah. He wasn't really my friend. He was just the only person who could tolerate me, really.
Noah always came to school in pajamas, with his brown disheveled hair. He had a rare case of heterochromia.
With my head tucked in between the inked paper pages of my book, I didn’t realize someone walking up to me.
“Hey Valerie!” The short blonde girl said with a sharp tone inflicting her voice.
I flinched, “H-Hey Angel,” I replied timidly. Her piercing ice blue eyes engendered panic into my system, injecting epinephrine into my bloodstream.
“What’s wrong?” Angel probed, while harshly jabbing her finger into my arm.
I winced in pain, “Nothing, Angel,” I submitted while jerking my arm away.
Angel’s name did not resemble her shady, devilish snicker. Her sharp fangs perforated my soul, fragmenting it. She strode away, knowing she received what she had wanted.
The teacher burst through the door, with his large footsteps rumbling like thunder as he stormed to his desk. His name was Mr. Crook, and he was my math teacher.
“Good morning class,” Mr. Crook boomed.
I liked Mr. Crook. He was scary, but I trusted him. He was really nice, and always gave me candy. I’m his favorite student, considering I always got the highest test scores. At the end of the year, Mr. Crook would give the students presents. He would walk into the giant closet and take out a few small items. Like small toy trucks, stuffed animals, and other assortments. I would look into the closet, and some things were a bit unsettling to me. There was a small key on the floor that was rusted, a large stack of books with goats on them, and jars full of… I don’t know. From what I saw it looked like powder, or maybe cotton balls, and some red fluid.
One day, Mr. Crook walked up to me after everyone else had left.
“Valerie, I would like to speak with you,” Mr. Crook said softly.
“Yes Mr. Crook?” I questioned.
“I noticed you leave after everyone else does. Why is that?”
“It's because I want someone to say “Goodbye” to me. Everyone else gives each other high fives, or hugs them. No one says anything to me…” I replied, with tears welling in my eyes.
For a few moments, his eyes grew ever so softly. They were usually a cold green, but now a spring meadow. The glowing flowers undulating in the breeze, and the blue skies seemed to be behind his eyelids. Mr. Crook was being very gentle, and understood me. It was the first time I felt accepted. The first time I had a friend.
I wish it stayed like that.
A few months later, Mr. Crook was arrested. I was devastated, and torn. He was the only one who talked to me. He was the only one who understood me.
When the day ended, I would go to the dumpster behind the school where his desk was. I planted a flower there, and every day I would water it. I would sit there for a few moments, and cry. It was like he had died, right before my very eyes. I miss my teacher. I miss my friend…
Trial 1
5th Grade
(1) Mr. Crook
I’ve always been the ugly duckling. For as long as I can remember, actually. It all started when I was in the fifth grade.
Paper balls and planes flew around the room, similar to shooting stars. While the chaos of my classroom ensued, I just sat there silently, not uttering a single word.
I never had friends, except for Noah. He wasn't really my friend. He was just the only person who could tolerate me, really.
Noah always came to school in pajamas, with his brown disheveled hair. He had a rare case of heterochromia.
With my head tucked in between the inked paper pages of my book, I didn’t realize someone walking up to me.
“Hey Valerie!” The short blonde girl said with a sharp tone inflicting her voice.
I flinched, “H-Hey Angel,” I replied timidly. Her piercing ice blue eyes engendered panic into my system, injecting epinephrine into my bloodstream.
“What’s wrong?” Angel probed, while harshly jabbing her finger into my arm.
I winced in pain, “Nothing, Angel,” I submitted while jerking my arm away.
Angel’s name did not resemble her shady, devilish snicker. Her sharp fangs perforated my soul, fragmenting it. She strode away, knowing she received what she had wanted.
The teacher burst through the door, with his large footsteps rumbling like thunder as he stormed to his desk. His name was Mr. Crook, and he was my math teacher.
“Good morning class,” Mr. Crook boomed.
I liked Mr. Crook. He was scary, but I trusted him. He was really nice, and always gave me candy. I’m his favorite student, considering I always got the highest test scores. At the end of the year, Mr. Crook would give the students presents. He would walk into the giant closet and take out a few small items. Like small toy trucks, stuffed animals, and other assortments. I would look into the closet, and some things were a bit unsettling to me. There was a small key on the floor that was rusted, a large stack of books with goats on them, and jars full of… I don’t know. From what I saw it looked like powder, or maybe cotton balls, and some red fluid.
One day, Mr. Crook walked up to me after everyone else had left.
“Valerie, I would like to speak with you,” Mr. Crook said softly.
“Yes Mr. Crook?” I questioned.
“I noticed you leave after everyone else does. Why is that?”
“It's because I want someone to say “Goodbye” to me. Everyone else gives each other high fives, or hugs them. No one says anything to me…” I replied, with tears welling in my eyes.
For a few moments, his eyes grew ever so softly. They were usually a cold green, but now a spring meadow. The glowing flowers undulating in the breeze, and the blue skies seemed to be behind his eyelids. Mr. Crook was being very gentle, and understood me. It was the first time I felt accepted. The first time I had a friend.
I wish it stayed like that.
A few months later, Mr. Crook was arrested. I was devastated, and torn. He was the only one who talked to me. He was the only one who understood me.
When the day ended, I would go to the dumpster behind the school where his desk was. I planted a flower there, and every day I would water it. I would sit there for a few moments, and cry. It was like he had died, right before my very eyes. I miss my teacher. I miss my friend…
