Leave Me Alone…

• Angel Ferguson, Grade 6
• Short Story
• 2022

As I stumbled nervously through the crowded hallway, embarrassment and fear flooded my shivering lean body. I took one glance and saw troublesome teenagers staring at me like a wild pack of hyenas. Immature girls were giggling sarcastically and worst of all, Mrs Brixley! She was standing narcissistically at the end of the haunted hallway with an evil smirk slowly emerging on her dry, brittle lips. I slowly raised my head. I saw her beady eyes stare me down and minuscule dangerous, deadly, demons spawning in her disgusting eye balls.

To add to my embarrassment, Tayla more commonly known as ‘Little Miss Popular’, was purposely positioned with her pesky cheer group. Just centimetres to the left was Mrs Brixley and the repulsive graffiti plastered on a school locker. Mrs Brixley’s questioned my statement but instead believed every single word that came out of Tayla’s aggravating maw! I was taking the incrimination for her graffiti that smothered someone’s personal locker. The anger in my belly was boiling like a pot on the stove.

“Alice Parker!” Growled Mrs Brixley as she ferociously snatched a blue behaviour slip out of her knee deep pockets. “Who do you think you are miss? What made you graffiti this locker?”
“I…i…it was…”
“Not at all you disrespectful girl, don’t you dare compose another excuse again!”
Fear flooded my face. My knees were trembling and my heart was racing as fast as a lightning bolt. I felt the embarrassment infiltrate my bag of brittle bones. “Straight to the principal’s office now!” Mrs Brixley hissed.

“Bye, bye loser!” Tayla murmured as I anxiously escorted myself out of the painful situation. I was exhausted from all the accusations and bullying that I had been delivered. I was her personal punching bag. My life was the definition of misery!

After my meaningless lecture with the boring principal, I strolled helplessly back to class. As I walked towards the sniggering students, my heart was in my mouth. I heard a soft unfamiliar voice. Her name was rather peculiar, Montana. At first, I reminded myself that she would join Miss Popular and her intrusion of cockroaches. I was mistaken, she offered me a seat that was motionlessly sitting glumly underneath an old rickety sideboard. My safe seat.

Initially I hesitated but soon accepted the generous offer. “Hi, my name’s Montana, what’s yours?” she questioned with interest.
“Alice,” I answered with joy, knowing that I may have just made my first real friend!
“I’m new here,” she stated in a relaxed tone, “I think you are the only nice person around.” I heard a silent sigh escape her gentle personality. I felt a drop of sadness flow through the overloaded room.

The next few memorable weeks were filled with humorous jokes, and enjoyable moments. Although the bullying still continued, I managed to ignore and move forward. A simple act of kindness may have just saved my life. I felt like the sun began to shine, making my darkest days a distance memory.