The Truth about Life

Finding Marabeth

I closed my book, put my bag on, and picked up the rest of my books. I stood up. Someone cleared their throat. I turned slowly, and glaring as always, to see who disturbed my solitude. Alyssa, a quack, was staring at me and smirking. She pointed to my seat and when I didn't immediately sit down, she pointed her gaze to Miss Muse. I needed to find Marabeth. I wasn't sure if she was just taking hiding seriously or if she was hurt. I narrowed my eyes at Alyssa. She opened her mouth to talk; I hurriedly sat down. I couldn't get to Marabeth now without Alyssa involving Miss Muse. Marabeth would have to wait.

I stuffed my bag in the small space between the chair and desk. I opened the book and tried to focus. I kept getting the book closer to my face in an attempt to read it. I dropped the book in my lap and started tapping my leg with a pencil like a mental rehab patient. A million questions were racing threw my mind. "Is Marabeth okay?" "Should I go to find her?" "Why am I letting Alyssa control me?" "Marabeth could be seriously injured, why am I not going find her?" "Does she think I'm looking for her right now?" And there was a question that passed through my head so many times it was seared in my thoughts. I saw it every time I blinked. "Why do I care?"

I couldn't come up with an answer. Just a tugging in my gut, pulling towards the door. How stupid, it sounds like I'm saying going after Marabeth is Fate or whatever. I played with the thought that going after Marabeth is Fate. I even let the word roll off my lips. It tasted sweet.

I stood up and went through the motions. Alyssa turned back around. I shook my head no and took a backward step toward the door.

"Miss Muse Olivia is leaving." Alyssa said in a sing-song voice.

"What-Oh. Olivia just what are you doing?" Miss Muse put her book on the desk gently and massaged her temples. She looked like she was on the verge of quitting.

I could feel my eyes widen involuntarily. Heads started to turn in my direction. The quack girls had their trade mark smirk on. My hand shook on the door knob. I turned and rushed out the door without saying anything. My black and curly hair was in my face, half blinding me, and I heard Miss Muse yelling after me, so I ran. I didn't expect my forty year old English teacher to come charging after me, but I wasn't taking chances.

I turned right and went towards the library. One. Two. Three. I take a right and see two guys smoking. Four. Five. Six. I run down the stairs. Seven. Eight. Nine. I turn left. Ten. I'm at the library. I'm panting; I slid down the wall.

I caught my breath and stood up. Now, I know this sounds a bit crazy but I noticed that the books in my arms felt lighter. I looked down, and through the spaces in my messy hair I did a mental checklist for my books.

English book: check. The Works of Edgar Allen Poe: check. My leather writing book: check. The Book Theif: check. Algebra book: check. A confession: not check.

I frantically moved my hair out of my face to see better. I turned around, hoping it would be there. It wasn't. I checked my stack again and then I checked my bag. After I had dumped the entire contents of my bag on to the floor, I began to panic. It wasn't the same sort of panic that I had for Marabeth. It was more of a "Oh no I can't find my child" sort of panic. In case you still don't get it, my books are my babies.

I had my head in my hands when I remembered something. I remembered during my run here I heard a thud. My book. I crawled over my bag, knocking out a few pencils that I had just put back in, and stuck my head around the corner. Yes, there was something made of paper sitting in front of the stairs, but it wasn't my book. It had rainbows on it.

I raced to stuff my bag and books under my arm. I clumsily got up to get it. Unfortunately, one of my books slid from my arm, and in the process to get it in a hurry, I slipped.