The Diamond Conqueror

I arrived back at school the next day. Lining up in line to get some lunch, I saw Jennifer and Kelli whispering, distraught. Ignoring them. I continued waiting in line. I decided to sit with Tammy, who happened to be at Jennifer and Kelli’s table.

“Oh, hi Margie. Was it fun in the hospital?” they asked in unison. I sat down, reaching for my pencil and notepad, when my whole fashion bag came out.

“Look who is trying to hide their wrinkles!” teased Jennifer.

“I’ll be right back, going to get a snack,” abruptly leaving and very cross, I left the table. I didn’t notice anything weird, but I suddenly heard Kelli yelling

“Margaret has wrinkles! Margaret has wrinkles!” I was hoping it would stop, so I started to insert coins in the machine.

“So unorganized! So unorganized!” Jennifer added. Tilting my head ever so slightly, I had to stifle a gasp of horror.

My fashion bag lay on the ground along with my notebook, which was sinking in a mud puddle. I sprinted into the hallway sobbing, and locked myself in a washroom stall.

Hours later, Tammy and Chelsey came to comfort me.