Barbie Doll, M.E. [which ebook reader .txt] 📗

laugh. Her face turns red and then she bursts out laughing. You would think that a person who does not talk does not laugh, but it is different with her.

After letting out a laugh or two, Mrs. Fille calms down the class and gets us to doing classwork. "Now remember, you cannot leave until this is finished." Mrs. Fille reminds us for the ump-teenth. I read the worksheet, "Ok we need to combine this and mix that and so on."

We go to the back of the classroom and get the supplies we need. Without Dakota or I noticing, Grace and Faith switches one of our ingredients with another. We come back to our lab table and start. One set of partners finish and then two others finish. "Ok we better get started." I say.

Grace and Faith are finished and so are everybody exept two other groups. Dakota and I mix everything together before the two other groups and instead of the mixture turning a burgundy color, it starts to bubble up and overflow the container. "Mrs. Fille!!!" I yell.

"Move out of the way girls!" Mrs. Fille grabs the emergency hose and sprays our whole table. Lucklily, none of the mixture got on any of us girls. Mrs. Fille double-checks just to make sure. "I don't know what happened, we got the ingredients..." Mrs. Fille interupts me, "Well it was not sopose to do that! But I will let you guys off the hook. This time only!"

"Got it!" I say. Dakota elbows me and then points to the door. Through the door I can see Faith and Grace laughing at us. I look back at Dakota and she looks at me. Through that look she is saying, "I knew that there was something wrong."


Chapter 4: Confession to Another

Dakota shows bye and leaves for band rehearsals. I know Ms. C would not care if I were late or not. "Ok now that everyone is gone, I want us to talk," says Mrs. Fille. "Sit down if you may." I sit in one of the black and white polka-dotted bean bags. "What has been going on with your many tardies? Is there anything wrong that I should know?"

"I don't know," I say with my my head kept low. "Are you sick? I have a nursing degree. I am sure I can remember enough to check you up." "No thanks," I reply. "I will not take "no" as an awnser. Come here." Mrs. Fille demands. As she fiddles through her draws and cabinets, I slowly come toward her. "Aha!" Mrs. Fille holds up a spagometer, stethoscope, and themometer.

"Oh no! Telling Dakota and her mom was enough." I think to myself. I started to sweat. "Ok now stick out your tongue." I put my tongue out and she places the themometer under it. After a minute or so the themometer starts beeping. "98.5 deggrees. Just one-tenth below the average tempurature. Mrs. Fille smiles at me. I try to fake a smile back.

"Put out your arm." I am as obedient as a trained dog with its owner. She wrapps part of the spagometer and around my arm and starts to squeeze the thing-a-ma-bobber. "Ok your good on your pulse. Let me check your breathing." "Here comes the climax Venus," I think to myself.

"Can you lift your shirt right beneath your chest?" Mrs. Fille asks. "Do I have to?" I ask with a sad puppy expression on my face. "Aren't you a little old for that trick?" "I don't know."

"Quit playing around Venus. Now lift your shirt up a little so I can check your breathing." Slowly I lift my shirt regreting every second of it. "Why did I have to be late. Why did I have to come to school. Why did I even choose to stay after class. WHY DID I EVEN HAVE TO BE BORN!!!" I think to myself.

Mrs. Fille's usual happy expression changes oppositely. "Venus... how could you do this to yourself?

Chapter 5: Too Much to Handle

"I don't know I just... I can't do this anymore!" Tears start to stream down my face. "But Venus. You can't handle this along. You need help." "I can handle this myself. It just makes it worse when someone tries to butt in MY OWN PERSONAL SPACE!"

"VENUS PALEMERO YOU STOP IT THIS INSTANT!" Mrs. Fille commands. "YOU ARE NOT THE BOSS OF ME!" As if I am possessed by a demon, my hand comes up and smacks Mrs. Fille across the face.

Mrs. Fille puts her hand against her injury and looks at me with tears in her eyes. I look at my hands. "What did I do!" I run out of the classroom and go as far away as I can from there.

Chapter 6: More Problems To Handle

I decide to run home. After ten minutes of running I finally arrive at my house. Usually my dad is at work at this hour, but not today. I try to sneak into the house without him noticing... it does not work.

"Aren't you a little early from school?" he asks. "Well... ummm... the school was dismissed early today." I say. "Are you sure. Because you know that I don't like when your missing school." his voice gets louder. "Yes, I am sure."

"Well then get yourself to work and make some dinner!" "Yes dad." I go to the kitchen and search for something that he will like through the cabinets. "Expired corn. No. Moldy melon pan. No. Chicken noodle soup. It'll have to do.

I get one of the "kinda" clean pots and heat it on the stove. I open the can of chicken noodle soup and pour it in the pot. My dad starts talking to someone on the phone but I, unluckily, ignore it. The soup starts to boil. I turn off the stove and feel the noodles, and they come out perfect.

"I fixed dinner dad." I say happily to him. He slams the phone down and gets up. "Do you know who that was?" he says starting to get angry. I get tense up. "No." "It was your school. You know what they said." "No." I back away slowly. He gets closer. "They said that they did not dismiss school early. They also said that you ran away from school!"

"I'm sorry dad! I'm sorry!" I try to run away from him but I'm not fast enough. He grabs my arm and slams me against the wall. He punches my face and kicks my shin. I try to get away from him, but his grip of my arm is powerful.

He pushes me down on the floor and starts to kick me like I'm dirt. "Dad stop it! Your hurting me!" "Why were you even born! Before I had money. I didn't need to work five jobs a week!" After beating me like a boxing bag for one hour, he stops. I'm so bruised up that I can't move.

I call up Dakota, "How about those therapy sessions that your mom set up?"