Year 11: A Short Story

and she replied, "I was just trying to defend her and he started yelling at me.

At some point, their ears had finally given in to the echoing shots and yells and had dulled to the point where they could barely hear anything at all. The students - cut, bruised and bloodied - lay upon the ground. Dead or hiding. Hoping for mercy, for that’s all they had left to hope for.

“I thought you had changed,” she said to me. “You know better than to be fighting like that. You supposed to be an example to your brother.”

As I am walking down the hall to Ms.Johnson’s room, I see something different. There is a sub today. I just really hope she isn’t as mean as she looks. When I walk into the classroom I get my folder and go to my assigned seat to start my “do now”. When the teacher walks in she says,”Everyone sit down and don’t make a noise unless you want a step!”

“Thanks for telling me that now everyone thinks I’m the crazy guy that hurts his sister,” I say

(Students in the hallway after school. Lockers are slamming. Students are stressed. Papers are flying out of messy

There was a fight breaking out in the middle of the dining hall, disrupting the previous peace that was usually seventh period lunch. A small smattering of fifth and sixth years were gathering around them, placing bets and shouting insults. The lunch ladies, as per usual, were keeping their vows of pacifism and closing up the kitchen. Before the door closed, however, Helga shot her patented scathing glare at the crowd, causing a moment of faultering uncertainty amongst them.

She thought her parents would agree that she should go because they always supported her higher education. She hoped that she would get new friends, get to go to football games, and maybe even join the cheer leading squad. Little did she know, this decision would change her life forever. It took two weeks, but Carlotta eventually was able to enter the school. Upon arrival at the school a Guardsman had to protect her from the mob. The bullies shouted insults at her daily concerning her being black which made her feel demeaned, but no matter how terrible she felt she would not let them see her cry. To make it easier she made a game out of their insults. All of this made her angry, angry that she had to be protected and that she had to endure this torture in a hallowed place of learning. She had wished they would stop trying to force her out of Central. Contrary to her wishes, she was still being bullied such as spitting which she found disgusting and infuriating. At times she sat down in glue or spit to find several of her classmates doubled over in laughter. This was humiliating for Carlotta, she learned to look at her seat and swipe it before sitting. Some days Carlotta was so mentally exhausted that she couldn't guard her heart. On these days her bully's insults smashed her heart. Instead of not responding to her abusers she chose to face them and retaliate in the same way she was

The students chained the doors shut, then picked up and carried one dean outside the scene was pictured on the front page of the national newspapers. The administration stated that, “the student demands were out of hand, but some had various points were being or would be considered by appropriate committees and the rest had no basis in fact”.

“Mandy, your dad and I have something we need to talk to you about.” Being the bright-eyed eight year old I was, I would have never suspected what was going to escape my mom’s lips next.

“Attention all Students of Colorado State School. Please report to the auditorium immediately.” I threw on my bland uniform, and started to head towards the elevators. Everyone was either piling down the stairs, or waiting in a huge line for the elevator. I decided to take on the wild pack of students going down the stairs.

My mother pulled me aside. “Emily you need to calm your siblings down if we cause

“How was your day, Aliza?” she would inquire. “Terrible. Again,” I would grudgingly reply. My mom was fed up.

Grandmother eyes were opened wide. “Claire, I’m only going to tell you my opinion on your father because your

“Ma, I’m not taking her,”my sister looked at me daring me to ask again. I did.