The Roses are Dead, The Violets are Rotten: Chapter 1

Chapter 1

It was a crisp autumn afternoon a week before Halloween when I waited for the bell to ring. One more minute, I tell myself. You got this. I impatiently tapped my foot against the hardwood floor of the classroom, at Southbrook High School, waiting for release. It makes a nice hardening tap everytime my pink Nikes soles tap the mahogany planks.

Mr. Brought saw me from across the classroom, looking at my pen constantly clicking and tapping on the desk. He looks annoyed from my foot tapping as well. As he approaches my desk, the bell rings for dismissal and awakens a crowd in the hallway. It becomes so loud you can barely hear anything at all. Mr. Brought continues to make his way towards my desk space after the classroom had been emptied.. I try the best I can to sneak my way out the door like a normal student, but his broad shoulders block my way.

“Charlotte Twernwhistle…” he stated boldly. “You need to focus more in class and stop the fidgeting. It is distracting for me and your classmates. You need to take school seriously, or you might end up with an F on your report card,” he added.

I pretend I couldn’t hear him over the loud crowd in the hall. 

“And we all don’t want to get into summer school, do we?”

Without answering him, I push my way around the grouchy teacher and finally get to the crowded hallway. The thought of summer school sent shivers down my spine, sitting in the hot classroom with all of the detention brats, and just sulking in the heat. Why does it always have to be so annoying?

I found my locker and rummaged through the mess inside as Bernadette and Sheldon’s faces peeked around the corner of the opened door. They slowly tiptoed their way around my locker, as if their parents were sleeping and they had to sneak out to meet me. Of course, I saw them, though it was pretty funny to see their attempts to scare me.

Bernadette opens her mouth to speak but I cut her off, “Look I’m almost late to church, so whatever you have to say, say it quickly.” It comes off a bit snippy, but they’re used to it when I’m in a bad mood.

Bernadette keeps her mouth open allowing me to see her very back, braced teeth. Not the best view.

“Jeez. What’s your problem today?” Sheldon asks.

“Mr. Brought is the problem. He is the worst teacher EVER. He threatened me with summer school for fidgeting with a pen…a PEN! Like, what’s his deal!” I said furiously. “Look guys, I need to go. See you guys Monday,” I said as I turned around and walked right by the popular girls who were always whispering.

I wish I was like them… sometimes. I mean, there are the three P’s, pretty, perfect, and popular, and of course the beautiful bodies, blue-eyed blondes.  

I walked out the big rusty doors, almost getting a splinter of the wooden handrail and walked to the bike holder. I unlock my bike, hop on, and start to pedal. I feel the cold, crisp autumn air blowing right through my light brown hair.