Monday, May 28, 2012

Like A Big Girl


You’ll find monsters where you least expect them. This is one of the ageless truisms that have existed for as long as there have been those to compose such things.

Submitted for your consideration is Miss Emilia Faye Carstairs. She is three and one half feet of sheer cute and adorable. Blessed with flaxen hair and cornflower blue eyes, this dimpled darling serves to satisfy this truism most accurately.

Emilia was the newest student of Ms. Stephenson’s morning kindergarten class at Springview Academy. Her mother had decided she must start now and not next year as she’d planned.
The problem was, Emilia simply did not belong amongst the others. The majority were acquainted with each other prior to beginning school. She was an outsider, an interloper, that most-dreaded of pariahs: “the new kid”. To Emilia, as with nearly any child her age, there was absolutely no worse thing to be than THAT.

Neither Ms. Stephenson nor her mother understood. Mommy told Emilia she must be a big girl and work through her problems.
Today, Emilia determined would be the end of the bullying. Within her Hello Kitty lunchbox were surprises for her classmates AND her teacher. Emilia could scarcely wait to unveil them but knew she must wait.

When crafts was over, Emilia stood in line with the others as they retrieved their lunchboxes. She sat at the same table as Tommy and Suzie and a few of her other tormenters. She ignored their snickers and jibes and unpacked her lunch.

Last of all was her thermos. She’d filled it, herself, full of the stuff Daddy used to run the mower. She carefully unscrewed the top and set it aside. In her other hand was a match taken from the kitchen drawer at home. She knew this would work. She’d seen it on that police show mommy was watching one night.

With a sweep of her small arm, she liberally doused the children. Before they could react, she struck the match the way she’d seen Daddy do on countless chilly winter nights. With an angelic smile, she tossed it amidst the squealing children.

Startled squeals became screams of agony as flames leaped up to engulf the students. Emilia slowly backed away. She wanted to make sure Ms. Stephenson had an unobstructed view of the situation. The horrified teacher ran for the small fire extinguisher.

Emilia exited the classroom, closing the door behind her. She reached under her blazer and removed the jump rope that had been in her lunchbox. Using a knot she’d learned from her Uncle Bert, she quickly tied it around the doorknob. She pulled the rope very tight and tied it to a water pipe that ran up the wall.

Convinced the door would not open without someone on her side helping, Emlia ignored the commotion inside the classroom and walked out of the school. She just KNEW Mommy would be so proud of her for working out her own problems like a big girl ought to. 

4 comments:

  1. Oh, wow! That's all, just wow!

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  2. Thank you. That was exactly the reaction I was shooting for. :D

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  3. Is it wrong to admire her just a tad? I love how you've captured a child's voice in the narration - disturbingly spot on!

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  4. I am still a child at heart (and mind). No problems with admiring her. Excellent example of feminine empowerment, eh?

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