This was a bad idea.
Did I think this was a good idea? Why did I think this was a good idea?
This was a bad idea.
There was silence in the room. I could feel my face burning as Miss Snoe just stared at me, dusty grey eyes wide and frozen. The only noise in the room was a few giggles and snickers from those who were still standing, but Miss Snoe hadn’t even moved. She still sat against her desk, arms crossed over her chest, with lifted eyebrows.
Then the face quickly changed into angles, a look of serious disbelief on her features as she quirked her lips.
“Seriously, Jhen?” The woman asked as I uselessly drifted my arms beside my hips. “Is that really the best you could do?”
“But it did happen!” I insisted, but Miss Snoe has already turned around, writing something on the board. I resisted the temptation to throw a tantrum. It’s not fair. The one time – the one time I forget my homework, I don’t lie, and I still get dismissed. Unbelievable.
“Miss Siad, you are in top set English.” She commented, her back still turned to me. Rude. “I believe you can come up with a better story than that, correct?”
The look she gave me when she finally turned around was slightly narrowed and, I realised soon, challenging.
I’ve never been one to back down from a challenge.
If you know anything about me, Jhennifer Siad, is that you know I’m stubborn. I don’t take kindly to teasing and I will prove myself. You’re joking about how weak I am? Punch to the face. Easy solution. I’m confrontational.
That’s one of the reasons the dog ate my homework.
Ah, yes. The dog. Dog. Stupid, impotent, daft, greedy idiotic, useless dog. The dog. It wasn’t me who got the dog. Gosh no, why would I ever get that beast?
His name is Bax. I call him Box. Box is a… problem dog. With me, only, that is. Oh, he loves little Mariana. It was her birthday present, after all. She’s taught him all kinds of tricks and everything, sit, lay, bark. In other words he does something as simple as sit down to lick his legs and she coos all over him and gives him treats to make him even more fat.
But is he nice with me? Oh, no. No, no, no, no, no, no, no. Box isn’t allowed in my room, I always close the doors yet somehow he manages to get in and chew something up. I’m the one getting barked at when we’re eating, and I get told off by Mum and Dad even though I didn’t do anything.
It wasn’t too long before I was going to leave school. We were packing our things into our bags when I realised my English homework wasn’t in there, a page-lengthed essay on whether Frankenstein decision to create The Monster was beneficial or not. I ran upstairs to check my room and walked in just as Box was jumping against my beside table. Before I could do anything he knocked it over, sending all of the papers flying all over the ground and grabbed a few and sprinted down the stairs.
The chase began.
And then it ended, with me slipping face-first into the floor as I rounded the corner into the kitchen.
That scared Dad, apparently, who was just coming in through the garden door with grimy boots, enough to make him all over and Bax ran into the garden, ripping apart the pieces of paper – one of which was my English homework – as well as shoving it further into the mud.
The whole class stared at me, and I stared right back, determined. I was not getting in trouble for telling the truth. I would fight the entire council if it meant no detentions! If the teacher doesn’t believe me, I’m ranting all the way home.
Miss Snoe stood still for a second, staring at me once more, something akin to shock or surprise on her face. Like she hadn’t expected a legitimate explanation of the whole ‘my dog ate my homework’ thing.
Then she rolled her eyes and turned. I’m still not sure if I was imagining her trying to fight back a smile.
“That’s enough, Miss Siad.” She said as she crossed the classroom to her desk and laptop. She sat down.
I stood there, glancing around awkwardly. Were we done? Do I still get detention? Why wasn’t she saying anything.
The woman glanced up once more, as though only now realising I was still standing tall and straight in the middle of class like an elevator. You know, if elevators could turn blinding right and glance from side to side rapidly. A smirk appeared on her features.
“You can sit down now, Jhennifer.” She commented naturally. I blinked. As I slowly descended to my seat, still very aware of everyone staring at me with large, taunting grins, Miss Snoe peeked up once more. “And tell your dad I hope he gets better.”
Танкадо - мастер высокого класса, он никогда не оставил бы висячие строки, тем более в таком количестве. Эти висячие строки, или сироты, обозначают лишние строки программы, никак не связанные с ее функцией. Они ничего не питают, ни к чему не относятся, никуда не ведут и обычно удаляются в процессе окончательной проверки и антивирусной обработки.