Documentary missing

The project

"Homework" Mrs hawking called

The class groaned in disappointment, they had been hoping the teacher had forgotten

"For homework", Mrs hawking continued "you are to complete a project for your future job this includes information on what you might do to get that job what you do in the job and some other information that will be included on the worksheet" with that she started handing out pieces of cardboard to construct the project on and the worksheet with other required information. It all faded to black sense from her point of view flashed by her gluing paper to the piece of cardboard that was her project her researching on the library laptops and other things to complete the project but there was one thing missing, one that she was forgetting. Tony Sivalone.

"Oh, Florence there you are I didn't see you come out of school he yelled as I got closer. He noticed my frown "oh no did I say something wrong I am soooooooo sorry are you going to go tell mommy oh wait you can't "he said with amusement in his voice

Just leave me alone ton... I started but got cut off by him shoving me in too the lockers my project neatly folded fell out of my bag

"What's this" he crowed mockingly before unfolding it

The project was done I had worked hours on it getting every detail right

"No please not my project anything but"

Before I could say anything else he punched me in the stomach that I hadn't been protecting with my arms he stepped on my project with his muddy football boot making parts impossible to read. With me still laying on the ground blood filling my mouth where he had punched me my backpack lying beside me.

Tony had always been mean but this year he had joined the football team he had been with his own kind getting more muscular and if possible even meaner it was after school he had stayed behind for football practice I had stayed behind to tutor struggling students which, to be honest, he definitely could have benefited from. We were the only people still left in the school

He picked my project up again and began vandalizing it more, ripping the paper and the cardboard spitting on it and rubbing the peace he had ripped off all over his body. He laughed before throwing it to the ground and walking away with a stupid smirk on his face like he always had after a good beating. I was still winching on the ground blood dribbling from my mouth.

The next day the project was due. I had picked up all the pieces of paper off the ground after I recovered enough to walk but the pieces were middy and the pen had run I was devastated that it had all been for nothing devastated that nothing had mattered. I had walked to class that day miserable and ashamed dreading Mrs hawking calling my name, dreading my doom.

"Florence" Mrs Hawking called a polite etiquette to her tone. She was dressed the same as always a black dress and a white belt. The belt tapered her waist showing off her figure. A red handbag hung at her elbow the coper chain matching the clip on her shoes. Her brown-red hair was styled like in the '60s gathered at the top with waves keeping volume and framing her face. She was wearing bright red lipstick. Mascara and eyeliner showed off her eyes. They were complex like shallow ocean waves a deep blue like an aquamarine crystal.

I walked up to the front of the room my heart beating at the front of my chest. The cut on the inside of my cheek where I had bitten it yesterday when I fell to the ground, throbbed and began bleeding again. My throat seemed to be swelling, blowing up like a balloon making it hard to breathe. My ankles buckled underneath my body. I reached the front of the classroom and started speaking with my project tucked underneath my arm. No one knew that anything was wrong. No one knew what Tony had done. Then I unfolded my project and the laughter started.

The laughter hurt my heart. It pulled at my skin and replaced it with fire. It took away my confidence leaving me with an empty feeling inside. I wanted to laugh along with My classmates. I wanted to say this was a joke and pull out her actual project. But this was all I had. Tony laughed the loudest falling to the ground in laughter with his friends. The teacher looked on in sympathy. Was this all she was? A laughing stock?