I Want, Gets.

Tia has always been different, but she's never quite known why. She has never been without what she wanted; she's the center of attention at school, at home... everywhere.

And something's not right...

-BM at the and of a chapter name means 'By Mirlotta', BH at the end of one means 'By Hellohihi', and BB means 'By Both'.


3. Close Call (BH)

I always enjoyed school.  It made me feel like everyone else, even if I could get out of it more easily than snapping my fingers.  Today, in period one, I had science.  As I walked into the dusty old classroom that always seemed to smell of lead, I saw that we had a supply teacher.  On the archaic blackboard the words:

Mr. Swindells

were written, in an equally archaic handwriting.

Great.  A supply teacher.  I can tolerate teachers, but supply teachers?  No.  I hate supply teachers.  What had happened to Mr. Reddings this time?  I looked around the classroom.  Filing slowly in were the other teenagers in my science set, giving me spiteful looks as always.  I didn't try to make them my friend.  I just wanted to be friends with someone because they wanted to be friends with me, not because of some magic trick I did.  I was using a pencil to carve out flower shapes on my nail paint, when the door slammed shut.  I looked up. A tall balding man, who I guessed was Mr. Swindells because of the 'Visitor' badge that supplies wore, walked in.  He was wearing a traditional suit, with a patterned red tie.  I really wanted him not to be teaching us today.  Suddenly he turned and walked out.  Oh no.  Everyone followed him out.  He went mindlessly up the staff stairs, the class cautiously tip-toeing behind him.  The stairs.  They lead to the roof.  What had I done?  He stood on the edge of the slanting roof, arms held wide, his expression blank.  He was going to jump.  There were excited murmurs running through the teens.  I had to do something.  I didn't want him to jump, die or anything.  Just not teach us today.  At that moment Mr. Swindells spun around, oblivious to what had just happened.  He put a hand on his forehead and groaned.

"Where am I?" he said.  He saw the drop and jumped away from it with a yelp.  "I don't feel very well.  I'm going home..."

And he left.  Just like that.  And now our class didn't have a teacher.


That was close.  I burst into tears, right in front of the class, but I didn't care.  I had almost killed an innocent man, just because I didn't want him to teach me science.  I hated myself.  Then I was home, on my bed.  I rolled onto my stomach and sobbed into my pillow until I had no tears left to cry.

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