Freaks

Almost Senior Prom

Their school year was coming to an end and nearly every senior was obsessed with the prom. Summertime was starting to appear in that small suburban community, and excitement was buzzing throughout. Most young girls were talking about prom dates and shopping late at night trying to find the perfect dress. Hattie Erickson though wasn't. She was spending time with her friends, studying for finals, playing more video games than ever, and filling out college applications. She'd

decided to carry out her plan of becoming a comic book artist and writing her comic books, maybe even opening her store. It had only been a few months since she had punched Clarisa in the face, changed her appearance completely, and faced expulsion from high school society, but she was living happily, dealing with Clarisa's taunts and her mother's very unsubtle efforts to send her to law school. Most of her afternoons were spent in that home for girls with her friends and ignoring the fact they were in a horrible area of town. The house never changed it's particular look with narrow hallways and old British teacups. The framed gun Mrs. Field had used during World War II remained on

the walls, slightly tilted, though no one dared mention the firearm to the sour old lady. They'd sit in that bedroom for what felt like hours and talked about plans and college.
"You are so stubborn!", Mona yelled, "Go to the drawing school!"
"It's a school of art and design!", Hattie corrected, "And no! First of all, there are a million options, and second of all, my mother couldn't handle that"
"So?", Mona asked, "Tell her you're going to Princeton or whatever and go to the art school"

"That might just be the hardest lie to tell", Hattie yelled, laughing at the ridiculousness of the proposition.
"Harder than hiding secret powers? I don't think so", Bonnie laughed, "And I know you're thinking it"
"Besides, it's Harvard", Hattie sighed, "My grandfather would kill me if I went to Princeton. It's a subpar school"
"Hilarious", Wanda murmured, "I'd kill to go to Princeton"
"You can," Hattie said.
"No I can't", Wanda groaned, "Remember Mrs. Field's 'no out of state schools'. I have as many chances of going to Princeton as

you have of becoming a Nobel prize mathematician"
"Hey!", Hattie yelled, nudging Wanda over, "That's, uh- probably true"
At that moment, Aubrey slammed the door open with a stack of thick papers following her.
"Good day! Carrying things is a hassle", Aubrey said, collapsing onto her bed.
"What's that?", Mona asked, staring at the bible sized stack of papers and what seemed to be brochures.
"Glad you asked", Aubrey said cheerfully, "These are brochures for colleges of art and design"

"Aubrey, I can't-"
"I won't hear it", Aubrey interrupted, "You are going to look through these willingly or by force, and I can easily make it by force"
"You're amazing", Hattie muttered, reluctantly making her way to the papers and looking through them
"Look at this one", Aubrey said, pointing out a brochure, "Ringling College of Art and Design"
"Florida?", Hattie asked with a look of disgust on her face.
"What's wrong with Florida?", Wanda asked, grabbing the brochure and flipping through it.

"I want to draw in peace without being interrupted by 20-year-olds on spring break doing tequila shots", Hattie sighed.
"Seriously?", Mona asked, "You're saying no to a seemingly perfect college because of drunk people? Honey, there are drunk people everywhere. It's America"
"Well that's true", Hattie chuckled, "What do you think Bonnie?"
"I think you should skip college and stay with us", Bonnie said, "You think you want to research more about this Ringling place. I'm quoting your thoughts"
"Stay out of my head", Hattie groaned, "And yes, I do! I will!"

The happy air in the room changed immediately the second the tall, frightening shape of an angry old woman with a slightly hunched over back, with a pointy nose and a threatening expression.
"Halley Erickson?", she said doubtfully as if reading her name off an attendance sheet.
"It's Hattie", Hattie said, losing confidence in her voice, "Mrs. Field"
"Does it look like I care?", Mrs. Field said angrily, "Follow me!"
Hattie followed the woman into her room where she had only gone once before when she first entered that house. Mrs. Field looked around