Friday, December 5, 2014

Jada's Dilemma

I hate going to school. I hate my life. If I have to face my classmates, I will die of shame and humiliation. A few weeks ago we started swimming in gym class. We are required to take showers after we get out of the pool. When I got out of the shower, I went to get dressed, but some of the girls had stolen my clothes and threw them in the toilet. Then they took turns relieving themselves in the toilet that contained my clothes. I fished my soiled clothes out of the toilet, frantically scrubbed them in the sink, and used the automatic hand dryer to dry them the best I could. Once the clothes were semi-dry, I put them on, snuck out of the building, and walked home. I missed the rest of my classes because I couldn’t bring myself to face my classmates.
Later that evening, I was checking Facebook and Instagram and saw pictures and video of the entire event-from the girls throwing the clothes into the toilet and relieving themselves to me taking the clothes out of the toilet and desperately trying to wash and dry them. Several people had written horrible comments about me. That is when I knew that I couldn’t go to school anymore.
After that, I started making up excuses to stay home. I would tell Mama that I was sick, but she didn’t always believe me. She used to beg me to go, and then she tried to bribe me. When that didn’t work, she grounded me, but I didn’t care. I just couldn’t go.
Last week, Mama said that enough was enough, and she practically forced me into the car. I held back my tears as long as I could, but once we pulled up in front of the school, I really started crying.
          “Jada,” Mama said, “what in the world is going on? Why are you so upset?”
I just kept crying. I heard Mama sigh loudly. I knew that she was tired and needed to get to work herself, but I just couldn’t get out of the car.
          “I can’t do it, Mama,” I said as the tears flowed down my face. “Can’t we just go home?”
After a few seconds, Mama sighed again and said, “Fine. Let’s go.”
We drove away from the school, and I felt myself start to relax just a bit. When we got home, I got out of the car, went to my room, and buried my face in my pillow. How in the world was I going to survive this humiliation? It was bad enough that my dad had recently left and Mama was never home, but now I had to deal with this drama. I hate my life. 

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Jada's Dilemma-One short story written from different points of view




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