Nostalgia

Chapter II

Chapter II

Beep! Beep! Beep! Bee-

SLAM!

I hit the top of my alarm clock and groaned into my pillow. I had managed to get to sleep at around five and now it was 7:00 AM according to the glaringly bright numbers flashing at me.

I flung the bedclothes off and rubbed my eyes, trying to blink away the grainy feeling of dry eyes. I yawned and made my way down the corridor, dragging my feet sleepily.

I went to the bathroom, did the usual and went to wash my hands at the sink. I glanced up at the mirror and groaned. My eyes were puffy from crying and my hair looked like some sort of dead, furry animal had come to rest on top of my head.

I dryed my hands on a towel and wandered back to my room, attempting to tame my brown curls by dragging my fingers through them.

I picked up some clothes from the floor of my room and sniffed - seemed clean enough to me. I pulled them on as I glanced around my room and made a mental note to clean my room on the weekend.

I grabbed a jacket and my schoolbag from my desk, knocking over an apple core onto the floor.

Pulling the jacket on while holding my bag between my legs (not a particularly attractive position), I made my way down the stairs and into the kitchen. I grabbed a granola bar and munched on it as I walked out the front door.

I locked the door and glanced at the driveway - no car. My mother had yet again stayed out the whole night. I shrugged on my bag, stuffed the granola wrapper into the bushes outside my house and headed towards the bus stop.

oOo

"Dorothy Stevens! Would you please pay attention!"

A few snickers echoed around me.

Dot. My name is Dot. I answered back in my head. I hated being called "Dorothy" - it reminded me of that dinosaur on the Wiggles and old ladies with white hair and empty gums.

My mother was obsessed with the "Wizard of Oz" at the time of my birth and figured if she named me "Dorothy", I'd be able to sing "Somewhere over the Rainbow" so well, it'd make gangsters cry.

I sing like a strangled, wet cat.

You'd think after being at this school for almost a year now that the teachers would at least remember my constant reminders to call me by my nickname. I looked up from my doodle of a puppy and stared cooly at the teacher.

He stared back at me, a sneer on his face before continuing with the lesson. I stared at him for a few more seconds before going back to my drawing.

I gave the puppy soft velvety fur and small, delicate paws. Absentmindedly, I sctibbled over the puppy's eyes and created two great gaping holes, scarlet blood dripping down his -

"Dorothy! What is the answer to my question?"

I looked up blankly at the teacher. I considered making up an answer, but I just couldn't be bothered with the effort.

"I don't know, sir." I said quietly.

"And why is that?" his lip curled into a sneer.

I decided to give him what he wanted. "Because I wasn't paying attention."

"Exactly, Dorothy. Detention, afterschool."

I sighed. Fourth detention this year.

oOo

I slumped into a chair at the back of the classroom and pulled out my homework, dumping my bag at the foot of the desk. I drummed my pencil against my notebook and waited for the teacher to come in and start detention.