"Yeah." I replied, "I feel dead tired, but at least it's Friday!"
My friends, Steven and Emily, who were a "thing" since last month, were hanging out with me by my desk until the bell rang for us to go home free. That day school was so long, not to mention that I had to go for some after-school tutoring in Mr. Lee's classroom. Of course, like all kids do, we were complaining and talking crap to pass the time in homeroom.
I wish I paid more attention to how nervous I was.
I was real nervous, and I did not even have a clue to why. So I brushed it off. I assumed that it was because Em, Steven, Jeremy, and I were all going to go watch that incredibly stupid "horror" movie.
And I had such a crush on Jeremy. My god, that boy was beautiful.
So, at that time Steven was talking about how his favorite football team lost their game, while Em was pretending to listen, and I was struggling to finish my algebra. Algebra. The reason I go to tutoring. And Steven goes on, and on, and on, and on, until I interrupt with, "Did you hear about the kid who fell off of our roof?"
Em, grateful for the distraction, practically hollers, "Yeah, I heard he needed fifty stitches!"
Steven, his mind finally off the game says, "Nah, It was only twenty-four. You girls exaggerate everything."
And then the famed not-all-girls-are-like-that argument starts spouting out of Emily's very quick lips. That girl goes a mile a minute.
Now I can't focus on Algebra. Oops. I slam my book shut, and watch as the argument unfolds in front of my eyes.
"Not all girls exaggerate! Do you see me exaggerate?"
"Yeah. Right now."
"No, that was me telling you what I heard."
"No, that was you stretching the tale."
"Not my fault Suzanne doesn't know how to tell a story right!"
"Your fault for listening to her. You girls are so gullible, too."
"Oh, Steven, you don't understand."
BBBBZZZZZZ. Yeah, our bell buzzes. Kids leapt out of chairs, jumped off of tables, books closed, and the stampede ran out the door.
Normally, Jen and I, the tutored teens, trudged along to Mr. Lee's class, whilst grumbling about Mr. Lee. He had it in for us, hell, he had it in for everybody.
He was not the nicest person. And I'm being generous.
Today, though, Jen was at the dentist, so guess who had to bear an hour of Mr. Lee. Yeah, me.
Walking down the hallway, you see all the high school action. Cheerleaders pretending to be embarrassed when they bent too low and everyone saw up their skirts. Jocks and their muscle comparing. The spare skater rolling down the tiles. The three teachers who actually care about us telling them their going to crash. And one did crash. Into me.
I try to pick myself off the floor, and I look back to see, lo and behold, Mr. I'm-so-hot-I'll-dazzle-you. Jeremy.
He helps me up off the floor, and I'm slightly nervous, but i'm not going to do that scaredy-cat thing girls do within a fifty-mile-radius of the male species.
"Are you okay?"
"Yeah, might have some tracks on my back though."
He laughs. A little victory song goes crashing through my head. "Catch ya later at the movies!"
"Bye!"
I finally reach the door of Mr.Lee's room, and the halls are very empty and quiet. I enter the room, and sit at my usual seat. Two rows down, all the way to the right, next to the door. Mr. Lee is there looking at some papers with his head down on his desk facing the opposite way, and he just sits there quietly while I struggle with my problems. He offers me a Jolly Rancher, and this is a rare moment of non-hate, so I take it. It tasted a little weird, but it was grape flavored, my favorite.
You see, he doesn't like most kids, but he hates me ninety-nine percent of the time. You see, I made the bad mistake of being smart-alecky to him on the second day of the school year. I had a mouth that usually wouldn't stay closed when I have an attitude. And he was harping on the fact that Em made a mistake on a question. Recipe for disaster? I think so. But I call this progress. He might think I'm decent by the end of the school year.
Fifteen minutes pass, and I'm feeling real drowsy.
I realize that I haven't seen Mr. Lee's face today when my vision starts blurring. Mr. Lee gets up to face me and all of a sudden he is not Mr.Lee.
It's a random stranger.
How odd.
The guy starts talking and I only catch some of what he was saying.
"Your dad got me in jail........... fucking revenge................... parents are vulnerable.........mmmfffphh....."
I can't hear anymore. See anymore. I feel though. I feel so much pain. My pulse is going too fast. My body is twitching and contracting. Blood starts trickling out of my mouth.And I fall into a blanker state, and the heartbeat that I hear grows fainter and fainter. I can't feel anymore. Why me?
I.D. # 33957630385
Name: Jameson, Paul
Age: 18
Convicted in: 2000
Convicted for: Attempted stealing at a gas station with arms.
Victim: Westley, Elena
Years: 10
Convicted by: John Snow,Esq. P.A.
Age:28
Second Conviction:2010
Convicted for: Murder of a minor using Strychnine, Usage of illegal drugs(Methamphetamine)
Victim: Snow, Hannah
Years: 125
Convicted by: John Snow,Esq. P.A.
