Discovered

Sneak Peek of Destroyed

It has been over three weeks since the bombings took place in Washington. Every day, the president of the United States gave promises to America, telling them that they will stop the reign of terror.

But somehow, they couldn't stop the bombs or even convinced the civilians that it wasn't an ISIS attack. Mom and Dad's  appearances at home became less and less frequent. Mostly because that they were doing their jobs as protectors of America.

With them gone, Uncle Seth became the back up father. Even though he drives me to school, cook meals, it didn't feel the same without Mom and Dad here under the same roof.

"I know this is hard for your parents," Uncle Seth began for the umpteenth time. "But just have confidence in them, I am sure that the bombing will stop and your parents will come home safe and sound."

I wanted to believe him, but it was hard to look at the destruction on television without thinking about the dangers Mom and Dad will face. With school starting and no mysteries to solve, I focused mainly on my grades and my yearbook editing.

By the time school is over, I had already finished writing my assignments on my agenda, gone through reviewing an English test, and finished my homework.

My yearbook staff and U.S. History teacher, Mr. Jenkins surveyed the cheerful pictures of children from Kindergarten to Senior on their computers. And since I was good with art, I get to help some of my classmates with their designs and creative selections.  

Thanks to early planning and collected each photo of the school year, Mr. Jenkins wanted to celebrate by having a free day, much to everyone's relief. While the kids were busy mingling with each other, I spent my free period on searching up recent news on Washington.

After I typed in the search engine, I clicked on the button and watched as the grey circle move rapidly on the blank page. Just then, Jerry came up to me with a sneaky grin on his face. As usual, he wore a red, white, and blue football jersey.

I am guessing that he and the other jocks have an open game, and yet he decides to ditch it so he can harass me. "What do you want, Jerry?" I asked in a bored tone. He tilted his head as if he is confused.

"I just want you to help me with something," Jerry began. I raised my eyebrow at him; there is no way that imbecile can be trusted. "No seriously," I began, removing my eyes off of the computer screen. "What kind of trick do you have up under your sleeve?"

The kids, who were talking to their friends, became silent then glanced at my direction. "No trick, he shrugged. "Just a problem with my yearbook page." Even though I didn't trust him, I rose up from out of my chair and followed him to his computer.

It was getting frustrating that my classmates were still staring at us, like vultures. I wanted to get Mr. Jenkins to help Jerry with his page, but he had phone calls to take care of and endless chattering to endure.

As soon as we reached to Jerry's computer, he showed me his unfinished yearbook page. The background had a dull blue color, the Kindergartens' faces looked like they have been traumatized from the camera, and size of the black font is too large for the page.

Just when I was about to say something, Jerry took his beverage from the table and dumped it on my head. The sticky brown liquid covered my favorite grey t-shirt, jeans, and sneakers.

As soon as the kids saw me, they started pointing their fingers at me and laugh. Mr. Jenkins, however, did not join them. Instead, he slammed his phone into the receiver with all of his might and gave Jerry and my demented spectators pink detention slips.

In response, my classmates scowled at the slips then glared at me. Ignoring the evil stares, I hoisted my backpack over my shoulder and with Mr. Jenkins' permission, I headed to the girls' bathroom.

Despite that I got duped by Jerry, but I was grateful for packing a second pair of clothes in case some idiot decided to prank me. As soon as I entered into the cheery pink bathroom, I shut the black bathroom stall door behind me, and changed into my spare dark clothes.

I put on my black t-shirt, black pants, and matching sneakers then stuffed my dirty clothes into a brown plastic bag. After I packed it in my backpack, I washed my hair in the bathroom sink, squeezed it dry, then headed back to the computer classroom.

The corners of Mr. Jenkins lifted when he saw me opening the computer room door. "Welcome back, Ms. Hamilton." Mr. Jenkins beamed, typing something on his computer. I smiled back and hurried back to my seat.

I saw a piece of paper sitting besides my keyboard and unraveled it. Teacher's Pet, it said. Rather than ignoring it, I took out a pencil from my blue pencil pouch, scribbled on the back and set it on an empty seat.

Slowly, I saw the note vanish under Mr. Jenkins' nose and to the person who wrote the insult. As it turns out, it was a popular teenaged girl with tightening clothes, heels, and makeup.

"Get a life?!" the dark haired girl shrieked, peering at the words. Mr. Jenkins stopped typing for a moment the glared at the girl. "Isabel!" he yelled. "If you don't know how to be quiet then go to the principal's office!"

Who's the fool now? I wondered. Isabel rose up from her seat then pointed her long manicured nail at me. "She did it!" she screamed. "She was the one who wrote that note!" Everyone stopped focusing on Isabel for one minute and gazed at me.

I saw a few of my classmates smirk, while others pitied me. Mr. Jenkins removed his glasses and asked me if it was true. "If I was the culprit," I began. "Then why did I call myself a Teacher's Pet?"

My classmates bursted out laughing while Isabel's face immediately turned red. Sighing, Mr. Jenkins placed his glasses back on and tells her to go to the office.

Angrily, Isabel grabbed her things and left the computer room with a loud slam.