Just For Fun?

Math is the only subject left before lunch, right? Yeah.

I’m so hungry. I have to focus in case the teacher calls on
me.
Silvia Elliot sat in math class, waiting for lunch to begin.
Her teacher, Ms. Harrison, explained dimensions of a circle
to the 5th grade class on her Promethean board. The
morning had been so long, three periods had passed, slowly
at that.
“Okay girls and boys, get packed up but don’t leave ‘till
the bell rings,” said Ms Harrison in an exhausted voice.
Silvia packed her notebook, folder, and pencil case into
her bag quickly and dragged her backpack out from under
the desk that was connected to the broken chair she sat in. It
rocked and it was something she liked because it soothed
her. It was the little things that made her happy. The only
thing she looked forward to in math class. The bell rung and
Silvia didn’t rush out of the room, just so that she wouldn’t
look rude. Instead, she let everybody pass her and let her feet
drag her downstairs.
 Why can’t you be like those kids?
Silvia often talked to herself, either out of boredom or
anger. Sometimes even disappointment or depression.
Look at them. They even crashed into a teacher and
they aren’t regretting it. They don’t care. Why do you have
to care so much?
Her thoughts distracted her enough to cease her focus
on her walking and she tripped on the stairs.
She quickly glanced around and got up, pretending
nothing had happened. She hoped that no one had seen her.
As if my reputation isn’t bad enough
She stopped accompanying herself and brought her
attention back to the real world.
She reached the lunchroom through two sets of doors
and took 2 strides to get to her class’s table. She sat there for
a while, on the edge of the bench connected to the indoor
cafeteria table. They called for her class to get lunch. Silvia
ran and fixed herself to the front of the line. She walked
slowly, feeling insecure as others talked to their friends on
line. Gossip went around quickly and Silvia had learned that
the hard way. It was when she admitted to being the one
that messed up the audio in the 2nd act of The Lion, the
Witch, and the Wardrobe play in first grade. It even got to
the teachers. None of them liked her.
There’s nothing to worry about now, it’s the end of the
year and I’m in fifth grade. I might not enjoy the senior
events but I can bring a book with me and finish my
summer homework for my new middle school, Willow High.
Yeah. That’ll be a good idea. Besides I’m going out of the
country for summer and I have to finish the homework bef-

Her thoughts were cut short.

“Hello! Silvia are you okay? Silvia! Silvia,” cried out the
lunch monitor (which was a teacher about the age of 46)
trying to get Silvia’s attention.
“Oh, yeah umm I’m fine,” said Silvia quickly, looking
down. She slid her card as the lunch monitor was trying to
give her a lecture and stood on line for lunch. Since she was
first in line she could take her lunch and scram. No one
wanted her anyways. No one would care if she disappeared,
at the least notice. Silvia examined her lunch in the
cardboard-textured tray.
 An apple, bread, white milk, rice with corn… I’ll take the
white milk in a chug and grab the apple. Then I’ll go to the
table at the end, the one that’s unoccupied. The one I always
sit at, where no one can bother me.
Stop talking to yourself. You’re losing your conscience.
Silvia chugged her white milk, thinking that if she had
friends they would cheer her on for this act for absolutely no
reason. She grabbed her apple and got up, quickly walking
to the isolated table at the end of the cafeteria. She stopped
in her tracks, remembering her book she needed to finish.
She was only on the 18th page of 159; of them. She
retraced her steps and opened her backpack. She took out
her book and closed up her backpack, walking back to the
table at the very corner of the cafeteria.

She reached the table and sat down at the very edge,
where a fire alarms shadow could hide her in her black
clothes. She put up her hoodie and tucked her legs to herself.
She opened up the book with one hand (her left) and
started reading while eating the apple with her right hand.
Silvia kept on repositioning herself because she felt like she
was going to get caught at this table that she wasn’t
supposed to sit on. The book she was reading was one that
she had made herself. Her summer assignment was to make
her own book and jot down the strategies she used. It was a
depressing book, for obvious reasons. Silvia shut it almost
immediately out of disgust and anger for no reason. The
book was bland and boring. Silvia decided to shuffle to the
very edge of the table, the one closest to the wall, and watch
the other kids. Silvia liked drawing even though she was no
good at it. There was a girl in her class that could draw like
Leonardo Da Vinci, but most of his drawing were
meaningful while all of this girl, Violet’s, drawings were
beautiful. Violet liked to draw people and Silvia often
watched, learning her skills and techniques which switched
around every time she drew.
Suddenly, Silvia felt a tear exit her eye. Why was she
crying?
Stop crying, stop crying. Why are you crying? I’ll sneak
my way to the bathroom and wash my face off. Stop crying,
Silvia. Who decided to name me Silvia? Oh yeah, my
parents. What a weird name. I’m weird. No wonder no one
likes me.
Silvia continued her strange strand of thoughts as she
squeezed herself under the table and crawled under all of the
tables that followed to the door to exit the cafeteria. They
were allowed to go to the bathroom and anywhere on the
1st floor but she didn’t want anyone to see her coming from
the closed off table. She called it her “safe place.”
Silvia managed her way out the door to the girl’s
bathroom and walked normally. No one was in the
bathroom apart from herself. Silvia went up to one of the
sinks with a mirror and checked her face. It was drained of
color, oddly, and the tear marks stained her cheeks. Before
she washed herself, Silvia threw out her apple in the garbage
can next to one of the stalls. She went back to the mirror,
fixing up her curly, puffy, ginger hair. She stopped herself
because she knew that fixing her looks were what the
“popular girls” did. She would never want to be like them.
She even made an oath to herself that she wouldn’t be like
them. She thought to herself that she would wash her face,
go back to her bag and check her schedule.
 What an uneventful day.

* * *

“Umm, your name, I forgot your name! Ummm,” said

Katherine Rodriguez, “It’s -”
“LLAMA!! HAH,” screamed Spring Everchest in
triumph
“-Lynx… ugh,” finished Katherine, finally, giving over all
of her cards to Spring.
Mariah Bonsborg continued giving out cards in this
game that Violet Freeman invented.
They took Violet’s game and everyone praised them for
how ingenious they were to invent this game.
They needed even the smallest things to satisfy them. Of
course they craved attention.
These were the popular girls.

“Athena! Gimme your cards,” exclaimed Misty Chryne.

“I wasn’t paying attention,” said Ruby Lifan,
expressionless.
 “Your fau-Giraffe! That’s right,” screamed Fannie
Greymouth to Mariah.
“Whoops. Llama,” said Mariah quickly to Katherine.

The bell rang.

Katherine took her cards and shoved them back into her
branded bag. All the girls walked together out both pairs of
doors and to the stairs.
“Hey,” started Spring, “did you hear from Silvia
recently?”
“No,” said all of them in unison.
“Why would you care about her anyways,” questioned
Mariah.
“Oh it’s just that I heard that she goes to the table that’s
blocked off,” replied Spring calmly.
“What table that’s blocked off,” asked Fannie.
“Oh is it the one like at the corner where no one’s
allowed to go,” guessed Misty.
“Yeah,” said Spring.
Katherine fixed up her dead straight black hair and said,
“We can tell on her for that you know. She’s not allowed to
go there anyways, and it’ll be easy to get proof. Just tell a
lunch monitor while we see that she’s there. They’ll believe it
if they see it.”
“Yeah,” agreed Ruby, grinning widely and fluttering her
fake eyelashes.
Violet was walking behind them up the stairs and
thought to herself, I wonder if their hearts are as artificial as
their looks.
She giggled and Misty, who was at the back of the
group, threw a dirty look at Violet.
“Hey, what are you laughing at? You can’t even afford
anything that I’m wearing right now so go home,” said
Misty.
All of the girls stopped in the stairway and looked back
at Violet.
“Can you guys move? I’m trying to get to class. Oh
right, I’m in the same homeroom as you. I forget that you
exist sometimes,” said Violet trying to slip past Misty.
Misty violently pushed her back but Violet kept her
balance, moving down a few steps.
“You’re not going anywhere,” said Katherine.
 “What do you think you’re doing here,” asked Spring,
annoyed.
“I just said it. I’m trying to get to class,” repeated Violet
in a know-it-all voice.
Misty pushed her back harder this time, causing Violet
to land on the last step of the staircase on her hands. Violet
quickly got up. She was daring and hated being wrong. She
loved a good fight, not physically though.
“I’ll just go around to the other staircase seeing that this
one is hogged up by plastic,” said Violet stepping sideways.
Katherine pushed herself in front of all of the girls and
said, “We’re not as fake as your house. Oh wait, you live in a
garbage can!”
All of the girls laughed at Violet, who stepped back to
the spot she was pushed to.
“If I live in a garbage can then you must not exist at all,”
said Violet, being extra careful in case one of them decided
to leap forward.
They all pushed forward and ran to Violet who started
toward the opposite staircase.
 “Misty, Ruby, Spring, go after her! We’ll be waiting at
the top after we go up this staircase,” ordered Katherine,
running up the stairs with Mariah and Fannie.
Violet ran as fast as she could up the stairs. She opened
her water bottle from the side of her bag and threw it at the
girls following her. They all stopped and screamed in disgust,
fixing their clothes, makeup, and hair. Fannie even blew on
her crop top in hope it would dry.
Violet took no time to examine the chaos she had
caused and instead raced up the stairs. She was outrun by
Misty, Ruby and Spring. Misty grabbed the front of Violet’s
purple sweater violently, ripping it a little. Ruby and Spring,
exhausted, watched Misty torture Violet.
Misty ripped up Violet’s sweater, revealing the plain
black shirt underneath it.
Misty yelled, “Your clothes are out of style, Violet! So
are your glasses!”
Misty tore the glasses Violet wore off of her face and
threw them to Spring. Spring chucked the glasses down the
stairs and Ruby ran after the cheetah-printed glasses. She
stomped on them when she reached them. She picked up all
of the broken glass and kicked the base of the glasses away.
Ruby ran back up the flight of stairs and gave half of the
glass shards to Spring.
The other girls had reached the top of the staircase,
somewhat dry, and they watched with pleasure as Ruby and
Spring cut up Violet’s bag with the glass shards. Misty let go
of her ripped sweater. They threw the rest of the glass shards
at her and all the girls ran as the late bell rang. Violet threw
back a glass shard at them but they ignored it, leaving her to
have to come to English class as a mess. She would also have
to explain her lateness. Violet stayed calm and cleaned up
the glass shards. She even picked up the base of the glasses
from the bottom of the stairs and threw them out. Violet
examined her bag and decided that the cuts weren’t too bad.
So she took off her sweater and stuffed it in her bag. She
didn’t mind her black tee. Besides, it was hot in English class.
Black wasn’t the best color to wear but a tee would do.
Violet had to go over an excuse for her English teacher, Ms.
Milo. She decided that instead of telling the truth she would
say that she got lost, even though it was her last year in this
school. Violet walked, undisturbed by what had just
happened, to English class. She opened the old wood door
and felt the heatwave hit her. The whole class and Ms. Milo’s
attention had been brought to Violet.
“I got lost,” said Violet walking to her desk. No
explanation needed.
“It’s the 7th year you’ve been in this school. You got
lost,” repeated Ms. Milo.
“Yes, I got lost,” said Violet impatiently, taking out her
books from her pink school bag.
“Alright,” said Ms. Milo, noting it down in the class
section book.
Violet squinted at the board. She sat at the back and
didn’t have her glasses. It was impossible for her to see.
Ms. Milo was a tall teacher who was always dressed
formally. Although she wasn’t strict her tone was always in
an I’m-disappointed-in-you mood.

Silvia glanced at Violet who struggled seeing the board

clearly. She immediately noticed that something else was up.

* * *
 As soon as Violet had sad that she got lost, a couple of
girls had glanced at each other, grinning broadly. These were
the ones categorized as “popular girls.” They had definitely
done something. Silvia analyzed Violet’s bag, seeing that it
was torn up a bit. Her purple sweater was missing, the one
she always wore.
Silvia brought her attention back to the board and
continued writing in her notebook with her black pen:

P.S. 107 Silvia Elliot

Class 508 June 4th, 2006

Learning Target- Students will read and interpret

Edgar Allan Poe’s “The Raven” in groups of eight.

The groups are as follows:

Group 1: Victor, Violet, Hugo, Jack W., Silvia, Spring, Ruby,

and Misty.

Group 2: Danny, Mitchell, Oliver, Ali, Lamar, Katherine,

Daniela, and Lilac.

Group 3: Ricky, Jack L., Fannie, Philip,

Patrick, Kyle, Mina, and Shirley.

Group 4: Mariah, Luis, Randy, Bethany, Zach, Annie,

Laura, and Elton.

The assignment was straightforward. Not too bad. The

“popular girls” were separated. That’s a good thing. Silvia
enjoyed drawing in her notebook even though all of her
drawings turned out to look like cartoons.
 “Alright, everybody grab your books and bags and get
up,” instructed Ms. Milo.
Everybody did as commanded.
“Now push the desks and seats in a position to make
four tables of eight,” said Ms.Milo.
The tables squeaked as they were dragged across the
floor. It took about 3 minutes to get all of the tables and
desks into place.
Ms. Milo labeled each of the tables with the group
numbers. The table closest to Ms. Milo’s desk, which was
opposite of the door, was table one. The table closest to the
door was table two. The table opposite of Ms. Milo’s desk,
behind table one, was table three. The remaining table was
table four.
“Everybody sit accordingly to your group,” said Ms.
Milo.

I am in group… one. Alright. Hey, Violet’s in this group.

Maybe I can ask her what happened secretly while
everybody else in my group is busy. That might be rude to
ask though. Nevermind. I won’t ask her.
 Silvia sat at table one, taking the seat closest to Ms.
Milo’s desk. Violet sat opposite of her. Victor, Hugo, and Jack
W. all sat together on one side of the table.