Just something to (hopefully) make you laugh a bit... (or maybe remind you of a past memory... or maybe have you scream in horror yourself...)
Oh, the Horror
Bertha slumped through the halls
of Greensvich High School. Her glum mood seemed to
broadcast to the people
around her, making everyone in her vicinity a sudden pessimist.
Bertha didn’t know the sway she
held over the people’s feelings on that point, or she
might have tried to make
her sour expression twist into a fake smile, but it was probably better that
her face stayed downcast – her fake smiles tended to give people headaches.
As it is with most people,
Bertha had only one thing that was causing her face to cloud
and eyes to squint
at the well-worn floors as if they had done her a personal wrong: Henrietta
Fitzwerner.
Henrietta was a preppy, small, red-haired
girl whose voice traveled at about a hundred
miles an hour, and whose brain was
twice as fast. She and Bertha shared two classes: world
religions and home
economics. Bertha detested her.
Henrietta had never said anything unkind to Bertha, and everyone
else in the world adored the little girl and her random comments. Yet, Bertha
knew that every time the little brat
turned to Bertha and asked if she’d ever
seen a blueand yellow striped elephant, she was actually
laughing at Bertha’s
librarian glasses as they perched upon her small, round nose, and magnified her
narrow, hazel eyes. Or maybe it was the big, pursed lips that caused Henrietta
to course with secret
laughter, or even her chin. Bertha didn’t see anything
wrong with her chin, but she knew that, no
matter what anyone else said,
Henrietta must be laughing at her.
Bertha’s eyes registered that
the next room to the right was her algebra 1 class. Algebra
1 was her next
class. As her feet automatically shuffled into the room, all thought of
Henrietta was
pushed from her mind. Mrs. Creeze was leering at the class.
Mrs. Creeze had only won one teacher
trophy in her seventeen years of experience: and
since there were fourteen
teacher trophies and fifteen teachers every year, not winning was quite an
accomplishment. In actuality, the only trophy Mrs. Creeze had won wasn’t even
an official
‘teacher-trophy’ from the principal’s office. It was one that the
kids had made. They told her that it
was for being “The Most Diligent Hall Monitor”.
Everyone in the school knew that it was actually
for having the scariest
pop-quiz-and-detention face.
Mrs. Creeze’s
pop-quiz-and-detention face truly was horrible. Her paper-thin lips
cracked
apart and revealed crooked, brown-spotted teeth as her condescending smile
caused her
students to cringe. Her eyes glinted malevolently, and even her
wrinkles seemed to perk at the
prospect of having more pupils to torture. Mrs.
Creeze’s famous face was what greeted Bertha as
she walked through the
classroom door.
“Good morning, class.” The
creaky voice issued from the teacher’s throat and filled the
classroom. A hush
fell over the scholars, and everyone stared in apprehension at the stack of
papers
in Mrs. Creeze’s hands. Everyone had a silent plea: please not a pop
quiz. I can stand field-trip
paperwork, but please; no pop quiz.
“Today, a school-wide ban has finally been lifted.” There was that
creepy smile again.
“You kids are going to get something that has been coming
to you for a looooooong time. Our
principal has agreed that with the
grades of so many of you digressing so quickly,
all teachers are
allowed to assign homework to any students who are
struggling. In this class, all you brats are
struggling, except for
Henrietta,” Mrs. Creeze’s expression turned sickly sweet: she doted on
Henrietta, even if Henrietta didn’t seem to like her, “So none of you can be
disdainful of anyone
else, because you all get to do all the work.” Mrs. Creeze
held up the deceptively simple stack of
white paper.
Bertha’s heart stopped. She began to hyperventilate. Her pulse
jackrabbitted from
moments of frozen terror to racing, throbbing panic. She
began seeing spots dancing before her.
Her arms began to shake. She stared at
the teacher in abject terror.
“HOMEWORK!!! How could you, Mrs. Creeze?”
Then everything went black.
