19 - Blushing

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Detention.

Is.

Shit.

I've been in here for only 15 minutes and I'm about to jump out that goddamn window.

I've been in detention multiple times, all feeling like shit.

I mean you've got your regular detention scene; a teacher that's working or grading papers (or sleeping in some cases), you got the bored kids in the back who just chill or secretly go on their phones, and the kids who got sent here for no reason and decided to study. And guess where I am?

I'm in the middle.

I haven't been doing anything actually; not trying to be discreet or a goody goody. I've already finished all of my assignments and tests aren't until next week so I'm chilling.

Though, instead of trying to do anything physical, I've been doing everything mentally. I've been thinking about my victory on my little fight earlier, I've been thinking about how Axel is now my boyfriend, and of course, I've been thinking about my dad.

I kept replaying the memory of when I shot my first gun, and how natural it was for me.

"Shoot."

I set down the gun carefully and shook my head, "Daddy I can't," I whined.

He knelt down so we were eye to eye to each other and he gave me an assuring smile, "It's okay honey. But it doesn't mean you can't, you just won't. You're scared, you're worried, you think you're going to mess up; and that's okay. We're human and we mess up and we hurt and we do stupid things and that's okay because that just shows that we have a heart to love and a brain to guide us. When you want, we can try again," he said slowly for me to understand.

I nodded my head and stepped away from the booth to take a deep breath. I told myself that it's okay, that I'm okay, to breathe. And when I was ready, I did it.

I turned around quickly and pulled the safety off of the gun and shot the gun in a blink of an eye. It all happened so fast that my father didn't even get a second to breathe. And where did the bullet land?

Bullseye.

I was 9 at the time. I remember having so much strength at that time that my body didn't even jolt back when the gun went off. I remember my father telling me that I looked so scary when I did it, that what he saw in my eyes were determination but nervousness; yet, I still got it on my first shot.

I was so happy, my father was so proud, and everything just came naturally to me. I did a couple rounds more after that and I always got the same spot every time. My father was skeptical so he placed the target even farther and I still got it in the same spot. Every. Single. Time.

The sound of my phone vibrating in my bag pulled me out of my thoughts. I looked around warily to see everyone doing their own thing; not giving a care in the world of what's going on around them.

I carefully pulled my phone out to see who was calling and I smiled at the caller ID. But sadly, I couldn't answer because I don't want to keep adding detentions on my days. I stuffed my phone back into my bag and continued to think.

Five minutes.

Ten minutes.

Fifteen minutes.

And yet, my phone still won't stop going off. I decided to turn it off completely and just get lost in my thoughts again.

Right when I put my phone back into my bag the door slammed open but I didn't react, didn't even flinch. I just sat there while looking out the windows to see the gardeners snipping at the grass, it looked quite satisfying actually.

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