The Little Monster Experiment

Emma Lynn is a ghotic emo nerd. She was the type to keep to herself the majority of the time. All her years middle school she has been bullied by a popular girl known as Yolinda Gonzalez. High School is near and the one thing that still linger in her mind is...will she still be tyrannized by Yolinda?


2. sixth period


     I couldn't help but reflect on Yolinda's words. I don't know what she meant by them but I'm sure it's nothing good. It was only five minutes until my next period. I have already finish my assignment so I decided to put my textbook away and sit silently. Everyone was having a conversation while I sat at the back of the class. As soon as the bell rung my classmates hurried out of class either for first lunch or their next period. I wasn't as excited to go to my next block so I moved a lot slower. I walked pass the threshold when Mr. Lee called behind me. "Ms.Lynn may I speak to you for a moment?" I sigh "Not like I have a choice." I mumbled. "What was that?" He asked clueless.

       I walked towards his desk with my hands inside my black hoodie. "What do you want to speak to me about?" I questioned. "Your grades are good but I am worried about you. You are lacking social skills that will be needed further in your life. I have a proposition for you." He said pausing to hear my thoughts about what was said. "I'm fine the way I am. I choose to not conversate with people. I don't think being anti-social is a problem." The bell rang causing a brief silence. "Just consider being a little more social during summer break." He spoke more while writing a hall-pass. I had nodded every once in a while to pretend he had my undivided attention. In reality I was lost in thought trifling with my fingers. He finally handed me the pass releasing me.

    I entered my class twenty minutes late. Mrs. Johnson had the class watching a movie called Glory. Another accurate Civil War movie we had to take notes on. Glory tells a tale of the first official black regiment in the Civil War. I gave Mrs. Johnson my hall-pass and took my seat in front of Yolinda. "Hey, whore." She whispered into my ear. United States history was an easy class so I didn't bother taking notes on a movie I have already seen. Ignoring Yolinda's sleek remark I begun to text for thirty minutes until the teacher noticed it. She confiscated my phone, leaving me with nothing else to do. On my way back to my seat Yolinda glared at me. Seriously what have I done to this girl? I sat back down and laid my head on the desk.

     "Where you texting your clients?" Yolinda asks taping her foot against the back of my chair. "What? What are you talking about?" I asked turning to face her. "Isn't that what you call the people that pay you for sex? Maybe you just give yourself up for free. Would it be better if I call them your friends with benefits? You're such a slut." She answered. I stood up shouting "You know what Yolinda!" The class stopped their conversations to focus their attention on us including the teacher. Cristina only one roll over and two seats up looked at me then Yolinda. From her body language I knew she was ready to attack me on command. Her facial expression was calm as she spoke until her friend who was now giving me a death stare. "What Emma ? I was just asking to move a little so I can see the movie to take notes." Before I can answer Mrs. Johnson interrupts.

      "Take your seat Ms.Lynn." she said irritated. "She's lying! She's the one starting things!" I yelled. "Detention after school! Now sit your behind down and be quite." I looked back at her. She had a wry smile on her face. I hate that smug and self-congratulatory look. Embarrassed I slid down into my seat. I spent the rest of the ten minutes doodling in one of my notebooks. When class was over Mrs.Johnson shouted out a writing assignment that will be done a week for now. Wow, teachers really know how to stress students out even when school is nearly finish. I stuff the notebooks in my backpack and was the first one out the door. This day can't get any worst. 

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