Other Fan Fiction ❯ Alex Lanes and the Ring Robber ❯ Alex Lanes and the Ring Robber ( Chapter 1 )

alex lanes and the ring robber

 

 

 

-ONE-

 

 

 

 

 

If you ask me, Thanksgiving isn't the best holiday on earth. Totally. I have a little trouble following Thanksgiving as a favorite. To me, Thanksgiving is just like a big feast, only you have relatives come over. Or you come over their house. Thanksgiving is like any other big dinner. So I hate it. But that's just forty percent of what I dislike Thanksgiving about the same difference of a big dinner and Thanksgiving. The other sixty percent is that I don't have any relatives coming over because I don't have any. Not even a family. I live alone in a house and my mom and dad doesn't know where or who I am. They think I'm dead. I think they're dead.

Fine, maybe I have a relative that stays with me. Not really a relative. Just someone I like. A cat named Ranger. I found Ranger scratching a garbage can and that's how I found guns and knives. But that's totally a different story. Right now, I'm sleeping in my own dream about Thanksgiving. What would it be like to have a real relative to come over? Would it make Ranger nervous? Would I get nervous? And I still have all these questions taking over my brain when Mrs. Larson, my homeroom teacher, say something. “Alexandra? Oh, you always have trouble keeping a close ear while I speak.” She says, shaking her head and drawing a frown on her face. I lean in on my desk and ask, “So what did you say?” I pulled back my body and then folded my hands. “Well,” Mrs. Larson says, “We'll be having an early Thanksgiving feast next week. I would like your family to come in and bring in some Thanksgiving food or desert.”

I raise my hand and before she can call on me, I lie, “But my mom and dad can't come in tomorrow! They're, uh, going to be busy at work.” Mrs. Larson stares at me for a long time and I stare back at her. Do I have peanut butter smudged on my cheek or something? I don't think so…

“Well… I guess they don't have to… but I'm really looking forward to seeing your family,” Mrs. Larson says and then turns towards the class. “I expect you to be on your best behavior. Do you understand?”

“Yes,” I heard about twenty students groan. Then all of a sudden, a woman walks in the room. She wore a blue and white baseball cap and an ocean-color T-shirt with long jeans. She looks way too familiar. Way.

I raise my hand and ask, “Who is she?” to Mrs. Larson, even though that might be rude. I'm used to being rude. And before Mrs. Larson can scold me, the woman says, “I'm your homeroom teacher's younger sister, Carrie. I'll be part this class for a few weeks.” Carrie turns to Mrs. Larson and asks, “And their names are…?” While Mrs. Larson told aloud all our first names, I thought about Carrie. She looks like she's twenty three or something. Just really young. Especially in those clothes.

“And Alexandra?” Mrs. Larson says. I look up at her. “What?” Mrs. Larson sighs and points at her sister. “Please give her a tour around the school. She's expecting you to.” I look at Carrie. She expected me to give her a tour around the school? I nod slowly and say, “Okay, I… you mean right now? It's seven-thirty!”

“Why not?” Mrs. Larson says and looks at Carrie. “If there's any trouble, call me.” She winks and says, “With your new cell-phone.”

So I got up from my chair, went over to Carrie and say, “C'mon, follow me,” and out the door we flew, and into the hall. When we were near the entrance room, Carrie says, “I want to go outside. It looks like a beautiful day.” I stared at her. “But Mrs. Larson says that I'm supposed to give you a tour around the school. Not outside the school.” Carrie sighs and walks up to me. “Look, Alex, I'm your teacher's sister and if you get in trouble, I'll tell her that it's my fault, okay? Let's go.” I never heard an adult call me Alex. Just Alexandra or stuff like that but never Alex. And I don't want to disappoint an adult who calls me Alex for the first time, so I say, “Okay, let's go,” and off we go, out the door and around the outside school.

“So…” I say, “What do you think? About the school?”

“Well, it's okay. I mean, I've been to about fifty other schools, but this one's really neat. Not because my sister works here-it's because the school's cool.”

I nod slowly. And then, all of a sudden a guy runs towards us and was just about to jump on Carrie. “Carrie!” I shout. “Move!” And I push her aside and the man landed on me instead with a big thump! This man is huge. Really huge. He's heavy and he almost broke my back because I'm trampled by a man with a leg bending and an arm under my back, with a head, cracking like crazy. “Get off me!” I rasp. My throat was squeezed by a huge man. Then man finally gets off me and then starts to dig out something from his pocket. A laser-shooting power, thingy. Fine, maybe not, but it looks as scary.

A medal stick.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

-TWO-

 

 

 

 

 

That's right; a medal stick that looks like it's used for hitting. But, if you ask me, it's not that scary to me anymore. Battling with knives, guns, and all that crazy stuff, believe me; a medal stick isn't that scary at all. True, it's thick and all shiny and hard-looking, but it's part of the “Easy Weapons to Defeat” list. Guns are part of the “Hard Weapons to Defeat” list.

One look at that medal stick, Carrie screams. “Ahh! Get away from me, you big fat pony!” Pony? This girl has a sense of humor! I laugh but I got all serious with the action again. Right when who-do-you-call-it? Pony. Right when Pony raised the medal stick up, and was about to smack me with it, I grabbed the stick and stopped him. “Get away from me, loser!” I shout and kicked him in the leg. He falls down and then I started to do something people would never do to an attacker. I spit on him. That's right, I spit. And then this huge glob falls onto the tip of his nose and starts to trickle down his nose and around his mouth.

Carrie laughs and starts to do the same thing. Pretty soon, me and Carrie's having a spit contest, who can spit out the globbiest glob out at the man. And I won, of course, because I have a gallon of spit in my mouth, waiting to shoot out. And then we played again and I was too busy squirting out spit that I didn't even notice that the man was gone. Same with Carrie. She looked around nervously. I did too.

“Do you think he's behind us…?” I ask Carrie. Carrie shakes her head and says, “He can't be… I guess.” And then, all of a sudden, KNOCK! KNOCK! Not the kind with, “Knock, knock,” “Who's there?” “Me Boba” or something like that. It's not a joke. It's a kind of noise and I immediately fell down. Carrie fell down, too.

Not just me. And I found myself in a world full of nothingness. But I can't seem finding myself getting out of here.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

-THREE-

 

 

 

 

Once I opened my eyes, I just couldn't believe it. I was somewhere else. Not anywhere near the school, that's easy to find out. No, I'm somewhere far away from the school. At least it seems to be like that. It's dark, cold, and, I don't know, scary. In case you're wondering, I'm not outside. I'm inside. Somewhere, at least. And my head, my head! There's a big bump on top of my head and it still stings. The man must've hit me with the medal stick.

“Carrie? Are you here?” I whisper.

No answer.

I started to whisper even louder. “Carrie, are you here?” No answer again, but I heard a noise. Like a hum. “Carrie?” I ask, worried. And horrified.

“Mm, mm!” I heard. “What?” I ask. “Mm!” I was just about to stand up, when I noticed that I was tied up with a long thick rope. “Where are we, Carrie?” I whisper. More “mm!” I started to think. Why was the man attacking us? Why did he try to jump on Carrie? And how do we get out of here? How do we contact people and let them know we're kidnapped?

“Carrie! Mrs. Larson says something about a cell-phone, right? Where is it?”

“Hmm! Mm hum!” Carrie mumbles. I figured out that her mouth got taped with thick tape. I tried to pull my arms out free, but it's too tight. If you want to know the truth, I can stand up, because the man just tied my stomach and arms together-not my legs. But it would take a million years for me to try to stand up with that sore leg.

I started to put my leg up and down, up and down, again and again and my leg got better. Before it got sore again, I stood up and then shuffled around places to find Carrie. And then I tripped over something and fell down, stomach-first. So I lie right on my stomach against the floor. I heard a, “Mm! Hmm!” and I knew that voice was close. Right next to me. I whisper, “I'm sorry I tripped on you,” and tried to get back up. But lying on your belly, well, it's not easy to get up. But I managed to do it in about twenty minutes. I stood up and then I whisper, “I'm going to do this. I have to. It's the only way to make you speak again,” and then started to spit on her.

“Am I spitting on your mouth?” I ask. “Mm hmm,” and I took that as a “yes”. And so I started to spit more and more and then I heard, “Stop spitting! That's gross!”

“You can talk again,” I say, relieved.

“Yes. All that spit made the tape soaky and un-stick-able.”

I still couldn't see a thing. “At least you can talk, again. What time is it?” I say. And all of a sudden, I saw a light. A narrow light. A flashlight! I saw Carrie holding a flashlight!

“How do you do that? I had a feeling you were tied with rope. How did you get freed?” I ask. Carrie shrugs and then pats her pocket. “I always carry a knife with me. That's why people call me Carrie! Get it? Carry and Carrie? And it's… seven-thirty-eight in the morning.” she jokes. I nod.

“Now let's see where we are,” Carrie says and then walks around. I follow her. And it's just unbelievable. Because all we saw was dirt. Dirt! We were trapped in a huge room full with dirt. The wall's covered with dirt, the ground's covered with dirt, and even the ceiling's covered with dirt! I touch the wall and pretty soon, I'm digging through the wall. It's not a wall! The floor's not the floor; the ceiling's not the ceiling. We weren't in a room. We are in an underground place. Someone dug us down here. There's no way out. But how do we breathe? That's just a hint that there's a way out. But I don't see any light. Not including the flashlight, there's not.

“Carrie, give me your cell-phone. Wait, do you know how to call Mrs. Larson's classroom?” I say. Carrie squints at me and asks, “Why don't you just call the cops instead? There's nothing special about calling my sister!”

I rolled my eyes and say, “I just don't want her to worry about you. Now gimme the cell-phone. I'm serious.” She finally hands me the cell-phone and tells me how to call Mrs. Larson's classroom. It rang once, twice, three times, and finally Mrs. Larson picks up. “Larson,” she says.

“Mrs. Larson!” I scream. “How come that took you so long? To pick up the phone?”

“I wanted to ask you the same thing, Alexandra. What took you so long?”

I held my breath and then whisper, “We got kidnapped.”

“Excuse me? Speak a little louder, please?”

“We got kidnapped,” I whisper a little louder.

I heard Mrs. Larson scream, “You two got kidnapped?” and all of a sudden I heard Rena scream, “Alex got kidnapped? Give me the phone! I want to talk to her!”

Rena Muffler's my best friend. Same with Lila Standers. They're really nice to me. But Lila, she seems to have a “love” problem. She keeps talking about Marcus, her true love, and that really annoys me. Rena, she's just tough, like me, and she has great sense of humor. Sometimes. Fine, maybe not, but she's still nice and fun to talk to.

“Well, Mrs. Larson, don't worry. We're all right. Just a little underground problem.”

“Underground? You mean you two are underground?” Mrs. Larson screams.

“Well, don't worry. We'll call the cops as soon as you get off the phone and stop screaming,” I say.

So Mrs. Larson turns off the phone and I call the cops. I told them that we're kidnapped and that we're dug underground somewhere. They say they're going to go looking for us, but that's impossible. How can they find us? We're underground! They'll have to dig the whole town to find us!

I started to go around the room, touching the wall with both of my hands. “Go around the room and look for a light. But you have to turn off your flashlight, Carrie.”

“But you know there's nowhere out.”

“Then how do we breathe? We just have to look closer and then we'll see a light.”

So we started to go looking around. I tripped a million times over roots, sticking out of the dirt. Then, I saw something that couldn't have made me so happy. A little light. I ran towards it. It's just about two yards away from me. When I was just right in front of the light, it made me just so proud that I didn't give up looking. I shout out, “Carrie! I found the light!” The hole was big. Not too big. Just big. Big as my head and I'm sure I can fit through it. If a squeeze my body through, hard enough.

Carrie ran to me and then frowns and pointed at the hole. “That's small. How on earth do you think I can ever manage to get through that.” I shrug and say, “If it's too big, then dig it bigger.” I say, “Do you want to go first?” She shakes her head. “No way. You go.” Carrie holds me up and then I'm already half through the hole. I never knew it was that long. I slithered up and up and finally my head was poking out the hole. I look around and noticed that I was right near two houses. I read a sign that says IDLE STREET. Idle street? What a weird street name. But I didn't care about that right now. I just wanted to get out of the mess. Now my arms are free and my wrist and hand. I put my hand on the grass and pulled up and up and finally I got out of the hole. I look back down and call, “It's a long hole! Get up!”

Five minutes later…

I didn't see her head poking up.

Ten minutes later…

I didn't see her head poking up. Nope.

Fifteen minutes later…

I didn't see her head poking up. Nope. Nota.

Twenty minutes later…

I didn't see her head poking up. Nope. Nota. No siree.

Twenty-five minutes later…

I didn't see her head poking up. Nope. Nota. No siree. Still “no”.

 

 

 

What was taking her so long? Did she get hurt? Was the man down there all along and then killed her? Should I go back down and save her? No, it's better if I called for help.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

-FOUR-

 

 

 

 

“Help! Somebody, help!” I scream. I cupped my hands and put my hands to my mouth. “Help! You cold-blooded freaks! Listen to me! Help!”

I ran backwards, still calling for help. “Somebody, help!” and then just ran into someone. I quickly turn around. Who did I see? Lila. Lila was just right in front of me with Rena and Marcus beside her. She holds me by the shoulder. “Alex! We were so worried! Lord, school's over, already. And, uh, you better get home to take a shower.” She looks at my clothes, disgusted.

I shake my head. “No, Carrie's still stuck down the hole. I have to help her!”

“We'll help,” Rena, Lila, and Marcus says altogether. I shrug and then nod. “Okay, whatever. Do you know this street?”

Lila nods slowly. “Of course. I go down here all the time to visit my grandparents.”

“Do you know the way to the police station? Or, even better, the fire station. We need someone to get Carrie out of there.”

Then, all of a sudden, we heard, “Alex! Alex!” We all turned around and saw Carrie running towards me. We cracked up because Carrie is caked full with dirt!

Carrie grabbed my arm. “Oh no! This is just not good! I checked my bag and found out that my ring is missing!”

I pointed at her. “You? A ring? Please, I can't imagine you wearing a ring.”

“It's my engagement ring! From Tim.”

“Aw, that's too bad,” I say. I really didn't mean it. Much. And I think I didn't really sound like I meant it too. Carrie grabs my shirt and holds me up.

“Don't choke me!” I shout. Carrie goes right in my face and says through her teeth, “You got me into this mess and you have to get me out.”

“But, lady! You were the one who wanted to get outside!” and that was the end of our conversation. I didn't want to talk to Carrie anymore. She didn't want to talk to me.

 

But I had to do something about it. What if she's right? What if I did pull her into this mess? I can't just do nothing all day! I got up from the sofa and to kitchen. I got out a phonebook and checked through LARSON. When I finally found it, I called her.

“Hello?” Mrs. Larson says.

I was happier. Much happier because I thought her sister would pick up the phone. “Hello?” she says again.

“Hi, it's me, Alex. And, uh, do you know who Tim is?”

“Of course.”

“What's his last name?”

She doesn't say anything for a long time. And finally she did. “Oh, his last name. Monte. Tim Monte.”

“Okay, thanks,” and then I hanged up the phone. I checked through the phonebook again and to the Monte place. I found about three other Montes. I called the first one on the list.

“Hello?” a guy says.

“Is there a Tim Monte there, sir?” I ask.

“Um, no, sorry,” and he hanged up on me. No one hangs up on me.

I called the next person. “Is there a Tim Monte there?” I ask without saying “hi”. There was a long silence and then I heard, “Yes. You're Carrie, right?”

I hesitated. “Oh, I'm Carrie.” I lied. I really wanted to laugh and say, “Kidding!” but I knew better than that. And now I'm thinking, why does she think I'm Carrie? Do I sound like Carrie? I don't think so!

“Hi Carrie!” A man says. He sounds like he's thirty-one! Carrie, a twenty-year-old, and Tim, a thirty-year-old. Wow.

“Uh, hi!” I say, trying to sound like her.

Long pause. “You're not Carrie,” he says. I bit my lips and sweat started to run down my head. “Fine, I'm not Carrie, but I'd really like to know more about her. For my, uh, project!”

So he tells me about Carrie. “She's twenty-nine, and she's funny, awesome, and she has a long-lost daughter.”

I ask, “Daughter? What's her name? How old is she?”

Tim says, “Why don't you go over here? I'll show you pictures of her and stuff, okay?” and then gives me the address when I didn't even need him to tell me because I have a huge fat phonebook right in my face. But I listened to him anyway.

I ran out the door and then followed his instructions and when I got to his house, I was just so amazed. The house is small, but it looks really comfy. Really, really comfy. I quickly pushed the doorbell button and then a thirty-year-old looking man came out. He lets me in.

“I'm Tim, in case you didn't notice.” He says, leading me into his room.

“I did. I have a brain, you know,” I say. I didn't care if I'm mean to him. Because I like being mean to boys or men. And I know that'll never change. Ever.

Tim jumps on his bed, and then gets down and holds up the mattress with one hand and then snatching the pictures with the other hand. He puts the mattress down and then sits on the bed. He taps the bed right next to him with his hands and says, “Sit,” so, I sit down. He showed me the picture. “She's Carrie. When she was twelve. I was in her class. We were best friends, back then.” He says. Now, this girl in that picture looks awfully familiar. I know this girl!

“Man, she looks like you, huh?” Tim asks me. And then it hit me. She looks like me. Of course, he already said so.

“Thanks for helping me out. I was trying to guess who she looks like because she looks familiar.” I say to Tim. He smiles and then asks, “So your name is…?”

Should I lie to him or not? Lie or not? Lie or not? Lie or not? Lie or not?

I tell him, “Pick a number from one to four.” If he guesses my number-three-then I won't lie to him and if he doesn't guess my number, I'll lie.

Tim squints at me. “Why…? Uh… three?”

I couldn't even speak. I closed my eyes and say, “My name's Alexandra Lanes.”

Tim was about to throw up, let me tell you, he holds his neck and started to make gurgle noises. His eyes was about to pop out and his nose (the scary part) was about to explode. It was all red with vines on it. He looked like a volcano goddess. All I wanted to do was laugh.

“Alexandra Lanes? That's the name of Carrie's daughter!” He shouts at me. Not a happy shout. Not a sad or mad shout. Just a surprising shout-whatever that is. And tears were about to fall from my eyes. I couldn't help it but cry.

“No!” I yell at him. “She's not my mom! My mom is right home, cooking dinner for me right now.” Another lie. I stand up quickly, and ran out of his room and out of that house. I never wanted to go near his house again. Even though it was comfy. Even though that house was filled with nice people. Even though that house is surrounded with happiness.

I never wanted to go near the house again. I never wanted to look at Carrie again. Or Tim. Or anyone else related to both of them. Except me.

“Carrie! How can you be my mom?” I shout. And before I knew it, it was pouring wildly. And I was crying like mad. How can Carrie be my mom? She doesn't even look like her! I mean, she's cool and nice (sometimes). But she nearly ripped my shirt and got me into lots of trouble. And now she wants me to fix the problem. How can she leave me alone for all these years? And dad. What about him? Is there going to be another man who pops up in front of me and then I find out he's my dad?

“Carrie, I hate you. I hate you,” I mutter, kicking the mud. Fine, let my shoes be dirty! I don't care!

When I finally got home, I took a quick shower and then thought about Carrie and the man and school. We went out at seven-thirty and found ourselves in a hole at seven-thirty-eight. But that's awkward. How can the man dig a huge hole that takes only eight minutes? Unless he was aiming for Carrie the whole time. Unless he dug the hole already and was plotting to steal Carrie's ring. But who'd do that? Who?

And he can't just run a way that fast. He's gotta be skinny. When I saw him, he was fat. But that doesn't make sense, right? He's too fat to fit through the hole. And if he crawled through it, he'd make it bigger unless he was disguising! Pretending he's fat! Maybe he's really skinny. Just maybe.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

-FIVE-

 

 

 

 

Scratch! Scratch!

“Oh, Ranger, stop scratching that bucket,” I mutter to Ranger. I opened my eyes and the sun was blinding my eyes like crazy. I whipped the air as if there's a fly right in front of me. I squinted my eyes and then quickly stood up from the floor and ran to the window. I untied the curtains and now it's dark again. Yay!

“Ranger, are you hungry? Are you hungry, boy?” I ask Ranger. I sat on the chair and Ranger jumped on my lap. I stroke his back. He meows. “I'll take that as a yes, okay?”

I hold Ranger and then put him gently on the floor. I walk over to the kitchen counter and pulled out a bag of crackers. I poured the crackers into a bowl on the floor and left it there for him to eat. I take a bowl and poured water in and put it on the ground.

Ranger comes to me, dragging my backpack. I laugh and say, “It's Saturday. There's no school. Now come on and eat.”

Ranger crawls to the bowl of water and makes a noise. And I know that noise, if you ask me. Ranger doesn't want to drink his water.

“You want milk, Ranger? Okay, I'll get milk.”

I walk to the fridge and opened and then screamed. Because there's a huge mess in the fridge. The milk is on its side and is pouring, the cheese is left everywhere, the lettuce is spilled on the sides and it's just a mess. And if you ask me, it's scary. I almost fainted. I take one look at Ranger and he's blushing. I never saw a cat blush before, except Ranger. “Oh, all right. I'm going to go to the market. Now stay good here. And I mean good,” I say and then got my bag and left the house and headed towards Sandy's Market. But something made me stop cold. I saw Tim and Carrie. Together. They were right in front of Sandy's Market. I couldn't just go in without them seeing me. So I stopped and hid behind a tree and, you know, spy on them.

“It's such a lovely day.” Carrie says, glancing at the sky. Tim nods and asks, “So, where's the ring I gave you? Are you wearing it?”

Carrie freezes and then stares at him with big eyes. “I'm sorry, Tim. Someone stole it from me.” And then she sobs in Tim's arm. I made a disgusted look at them. Yuck. How can any possibly live through seeing that?

I look away from them and just listen. Tim says, “What? That can't be true. I spent millions of bucks on that diamond!” And at first, I thought he was mad at the robber but then I realized that he was mad at her. It's not even her fault that a robber stole it. What a loser. He's too stupid to figure that out.

But he sounds weird. Like he's trying to be mad at her. But how can he try to be mad at his girlfriend? Unless he knew who the robber was? And the robber would kill him if he ever tells the cops?

“How can that ring get stolen? You should've kept it safe!” He screams at her and all I wanted to do is go right in his face and shout at him, “So what if the ring is stolen? It's not her fault, you old-eating-monster!” Or something like that.

All I knew was that there had to be more than that. There has to be a reason why he's acting all weird. Like he knew already. And if it wasn't for his “bad acting”, I would never had followed him and get totally surprised.

 

 

 

 

-SIX-

 

 

 

He pushes the crying woman back and then leaves. Just leaves. And that made me madder. Even though I hate Carrie, I still wouldn't let someone be mean to her. No way. I quickly put on my hood from my sweatshirt, and then ran after him. I found him at a jewelry store. He glanced at me. I quickly lean against the wall and whistle and say, “Wow, what a nice day,” in a different high voice. And when he stopped staring at me, I stared at him. I grabbed a newspaper out of an old man's hand. “Hey! Give me back my newspaper!”

“Sorry, but it's urgent.”

I went in the store, holding a newspaper right in my face. I peeked over the newspaper and saw Tim going up to a woman and then kneeling down, and then grabbed something out of his shirt pocket and then giving it to her. I couldn't believe it. It was a ring. I screamed. That's right, I screamed. And people were staring at me, including Tim and the woman.

I smile and wave at them. “Sorry, that was dust. I sneezed.” And then I tried to sneeze. “Aachoo!” I fake sneeze. I heard Tim say to the woman, “Why don't you go home and rest?” and then go charging to me. I scream, “Help! This man's killing me!” And I couldn't lie anymore. I ran to Tim's new girlfriend and snatched her ring. I run out of the store but does that guy stop? No way-he kept running after me. And I can't just go to my house. He'd track me down anytime he wants. So I ran over to the school, hoping someone would at least be there. And someone was there. Only I wasn't excepting that person would be there. Because I saw Naira walking with her friends and talking with them. Naira, to me is like a beauty queen. She's mean, bossy, and all that bad stuff.

I run to her, screaming, “Help! Somebody, help!” I look behind my shoulder and there's Tim, running like a little rooster. I stomped the floor and mutter, “Why can't he give up?” and then I kept running and running then found myself at a cliff. A small cliff. But I still wouldn't even bother jumping down. I looked both ways to find another “nice” path but there isn't even one path. So I was stuck in a cliff. Tim took a step closer to me and a step closer, and a step closer and soon, he was holding my neck, saying, “You can't tell anyone, kid!” and I kept shouting, “Stop choking me!” And then he finally lets me go. I walk backwards, trying to get away from him but he kept going closer and closer and then I just fell. Fell off the cliff!

He shouts at me, “Die, girl! Die! Now you wouldn't be able to tell anyone! Ha-ha, die!” and believe me, he's crazy. Crazier than a chicken that has a disease.

I fell down with a big bam! I really broke my arm. I twisted it! And my back. There's this pointy rock in the ground and I fell in the pointy spot. Blood was bleeding everywhere. Lariat has the pointiest rocks in the world! Well, not really. But to me it is. And the next thing I knew, there was a massive flood. And there's no way out.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

-SEVEN-

 

 

 

 

 

 

I just wanted to call for help. Totally. Because I was all wet and the rocks are all surrounding me. Big rocks, that is. I cupped my hands and shout, “Help! I'll drown! Help!” I took a small pointy rock and carved the words in a huge rock Tim is crazy. He almost killed me. Sincerely, Alexandra Lanes and I thought that, hopefully, someone would find it. The water's already up to my hip. And the next thing I knew, I was swimming for my life. The water's above my head, the rocks are surrounding me, I have a sore arm. I couldn't imagine myself living. I swam up and up and then found out that I was ten feet up.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I was up as high as one of the rocks. I quickly grabbed the point of the rock and the held on to it. As the water rose higher, the more easily I can hold on to that rock and pretty soon, I found myself hugging the rock like crazy. I climbed and climbed and then I was in the other side. I went around looking for food. But what did I see? Nothing but rocks. I started to climb up the cliff but it was no use-I kept slipping and by the time it was midnight, my nails were all chipped and bloody. I was so hungry I couldn't even do anything.

While I was trying to sleep, I kept rolling around, clutching my stomach because I was so hungry. The flood is over and my stomachache was over. I was sleeping like a pig by the time it was one o'clock in the morning.

“Wake up, Alex! Wake up! Oh my lord, that was so freaky!” I heard Lila shout. I quickly sit up, but banged my head on a pan. “Where am I?” I ask Lila. Lila laughs and says, “You're at my house. The cops found you under that cliff.”

“Oh thank goodness they found me! I was, like, dead! Did they find a message that says Tim is crazy. He almost killed me. Did they find a message like that?” I ask Lila, shaking her arm. Lila squints at me. “No… they didn't find anything like that…” I rolled my eyes and say, “Good for them,” and then got off wherever I was and started out the door. “Thanks Lila.”

 

The best thing to do is make a prank. A funny prank on Mr. Tim. Like revenge. I started to think of something scary, funny, and surprising all at the same time and then came up with an idea I'd never want to happen to myself. I ran to the beach like crazy and looked around for some women. I found a girl right beside me who looked like she's around twenty. I ask her, “Excuse me, but I need to take revenge on this guy so can you help me out?” The girl looks at me like I'm crazy, but then smiles and says, “Okay… but what do you want me to do?”

“Scare him,” I say and started to tell her my plan. She laughed like a doll (it's scary!) and then nods.

And pretty soon, I got six women to do my prank.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

-EIGHT-

 

 

 

 

 

“C'mon!” I say to the girls. The girls were just in front of Tim's house. Near the mailbox. And I was hiding behind the corner of the house. I nod at one of the girls and whisper, “Ring the doorbell!” So she rang the doorbell and then ran back to the mailbox. The door opens and out steps old Tim. He squints at the girls and asks them, “May I ask if you need help?” A tall girl beckoned him over and so, he walks over to them and pretty soon, the girls are flirting. I run inside the house, take a huge bucket and poured water in it. Then I take a bottle of ketchup and squirt the ketchup in the bucket and mixed the water and the ketchup together. Now it looks like blood. Real blood. I ran up to the door and poured the red liquid in the floor. I used my finger to write ALEX WILL TAKE REVENGE. I laugh and then sneaked right out and back to my hiding spot.

Tim was so freaked out that he ran back in his house and a second later, he screamed. I laughed even harder and gave a thumps up at the girls. They laughed, too, and waved at me and left. I walked right up the house and kicked the door. I shout, “That teaches you a lesson, huh?”

And then Tim came out wearing all black with a knife in his pocket and a gun in his hand. With about four other men that were dressing the same. I yelped and ran for my life. I ran down the street and down town, where almost everyone was. But those men were still chasing me like I was alone. Why did they want to kill me? Because they think I'll tell? The ring! Oh yeah, they wanted the ring!

The men started shooting. And one guy shot me in the ankle and right in my wrist. I started to slow down. One of the caught up to me and started to use the knife and make bloody marks on my arms. “Hey, I'm not a statue, freak!” I shout at that guy and then started to run, but the guy jumped on me and made a mark on my cheek. I clutched my cheek and kicked him right off. And then I saw a huge building. That'd keep me safe-maybe. I ran into the building and the only thing I saw were stairs. I'm injured and they expect me to take stairs? Aw, come on!

I ran up the stairs, probably about, like, a hundred! And when I finally reached the top, I just couldn't believe it. This place is where they make movies in Lariat. Seriously.

I ran right in front of the director and shout, “There are people in this place who wants to kill me!”

“Get out of my way! I'm trying to direct a show, here.”

“You don't care about a poor, innocent kid, do you? I had to tackle a murderer, I had to give a prank to a murderer, I fainted because a crazy guy hit my head, and now I got scars all over my body! Seventh grade is just too hard! Fine, I'll leave, you careless loser! I bet you can't do any of what I did.”

By now, the director's eyes are bugging out of his eye sockets. His jaws are dropped open.

“What?” I ask him. I use my finger and poked his stomach. “You're so rude! Fine, if you want me to get out of your life I will! I didn't even want to bother you, anyway,” and was just about to leave the room when he says, “Wait, wait! You can have a part in my show!” but I refuse to listen to him. I've got other things to worry about.

I ran out the door like a rocket and looked around to see if the guys are here. Nope. I sighed and then I heard, “I hear her! She's out!” and so I started to run again, but again, I'm stuck in a dead end. And the only way out is to jump out the window. I took a deep breath first and then jumped. Man, I was like, fifty feet high in the air! And then I saw something that wouldn't make me happier. I huge, fluffy sign. It's about, like, ten feet long and it's soft like a blanket. I grabbed one end of it.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I shout out, “Somebody! Get a cushion or something! Please? You people are so cold-blooded!” And since I'm insulting them so much, a guy put a soft cushion under me just so I can shut up. “Thanks!” I call and then fall down. But the guy doesn't know anything because I fell right next to the cushion with a huge plump! I shout at the guy, “You're kidding!” and then ask one guy, “May I use your car?”

Most of them think I'm crazy. I kept asking and asking and pretty soon I stole a car. I snatched a guy's key and went in a guy's car. I know, it's a stupid thing to do but I had to. I didn't really know how to drive. So I get out of the car and shout, “Who wants to drive for me?”

 

So now I'm in this car with a woman driving for me, asking me so many questions.

“So why are you so… bloody?” She asks.

“You can't mind your own business, can you?” I tell her.

“In fact, I can. It's just that you're ruining everyone's lives and I better get to the start of it.”

I look at her. “What?” She smiles at me and then holds up a badge. “Police Officer. I'm bringing you to court.” I stare at her with my jaws gapping open. “Why? I didn't do anything wrong.”

“I know you didn't. We're just making you tell everything that happened to you and you'll be a lot safer. And don't be such an insulter.”

Huh? What is she talking about? I mean, I'm going to court just for cops to ask me questions? No way.

I look at her clothes. Dirty, dirty, dirty. Too police-ie, you know, too much of a cop.

“You don't have a sense of style, you know that?”

The cop lady looks at me like I'm a knucklehead. And then she shakes her head and giggles. What kind of woman just giggles when I insulted them?

“Same with you, for the matter of result,” she says in a low voice. She turns the wheel and I bump my head into her shoulder. “Hey watch it!” I shout out. And then I stare at her and ask, “Can't you just say same with you instead of same with you, for the matter of result.”

“Kid, you don't know anything…” she mumbles. I open my mouth and squint at her, turning my head sideways. And before I can insult her back, we're at the court. I ran inside like a bullet shooting across from the air. I sit in one of these huge chairs and clear my throat.

“Elvis Hair…” I mutter because who did I see? Elvis Hair. Who is he? The annoyingest policeman who ever lived. Well, actually, if you want to know the truth, he isn't annoying, but for some reason, he is to me.

“Well, well,” he says. “Looks like we're going to ask you some questions, huh?” and laughs. I rolled my eyes. “Yeah, yeah, now let's get on with the show! It can't take all day.”

Elvis Hair laughs and sits down next to me, holding a notebook and a pen. “So,” he says. “Why did these people try to murder you?”

“Because I have their ring,” I say, folding my hands. I'm trying to act natural and mature but it's not easy.

“Huh? Ring?” he asks, so I tell him all about it. About the “man”, knocking our heads with his medal stick and the dirt room and Carrie as my mom and Tim. All about it.

When I was done telling him the entire whole story, I jumped down the chair and went home. I wanted to do something fun. With my friends. So I called Lila over. Rena doesn't have a phone, I think, because she's homeless. I went outside and waited for Lila and she came but who was next to her? Rena Muffler. This was getting better than I thought.

I waved at them and beckoned them to go inside. When they did, we partied. We ate pizza and watched movies and played games. It was so fun! And by the next morning, we went over to Lila's house and partied there. We almost did the same thing, only we watched better movies and ate better kind of pizzas. And games. “So, Alex, Rena, what did you do yesterday? Did you have fun or anything?” Lila asks us. We were lying down on Lila's bed, talking.

I shrug and say, “I did a lot of stuff. I spied on Tim…” and was just about to say something else when Lila and Rena say together, “Spying? Again? How many times did we tell you? You can get hurt and-”

“And,” I interrupt, “I did get hurt. What makes you think jumping off a cliff can be safe?”

Lila laughs and says, “I remember that,” while Rena's eyes got wider. You see, she thinks jumping off a cliff is a cool thing. Lila thinks it's a scary thing. I don't think it's cool or scary. I think it's hurtful.

I smile and ask, “Do you want to go to Carrie's? I think she lives with Mrs. Larson.”

We decided to go to Mrs. Larson's house. We checked the phonebook and then later, we found ourselves on a front-porch, knocking. Mrs. Larson opens it and looks surprised, but she lets us in. I don't think Carrie would let us in.

We sat down on the sofa and sort of stared at everything while Mrs. Larson called Carrie to come downstairs. When Carrie saw us, she erupted. She marched to Mrs. Larson and yelled at her. What kind of sister is she? Yelling at your older sister?

But Carrie finally sits down on a sofa right in front of us and listened. I took the ring out of my pocket. “Is this the engagement ring Tim gave you?”

She snatches the ring out of my hand and shouts, “Where did you find this?”

I shrug and smile evilly. I lean closer to her, turn my head sort of sideways at her, and whisper, “Tim's new girlfriend.”

 

 

-NINE-

 

 

 

 

 

 

Her mouth goes gapping open like a dog. Her ears are flapping and I swear I saw her nostrils move.

“He wouldn't…” she says, stretching the sentence.

“Oh yes he would! Look at all these scars,” I say, shaking my head. I showed her all my scars from the knife and then my ankle. “It hurts a lot, but hey, I'm tough. I dare you to dump Tim.”

She nods her head. “I did!”

“But do you still think about him? I think you do.”

And all of a sudden Mrs. Larson jumps in, “I knew Tim was a bad man! I told you I saw him flirting with this young woman! I'm not blind.” Carrie taps the sofa and makes me tell her the whole story. I tried to skip the part about her being my mom but she's like a truth-maniac. Like when I say, “But I left his house because it stunk like old cheese,” she snaps, “That's not true! Tell me the truth right now.” And then I tried saying, “I left the house because it was beginning to rain,” she snaps again. And when I say, “He shooed my out of the house,” she finally thought I was telling the truth.

And if you want to know why I said that, it was because I wanted Carrie to think he was mean so she'd really think he's a big, old, insane guy.

And then the phone suddenly rings. Carrie stands up with a hand out like she's a cop, stopping us. “I'll go get it,” she says and runs to the phone. A minute later, she comes back holding the phone out to me. “It's for you.”

I take the phone and ask, “Who are you?”

“It's me, Dan. Do you have time to come down to the police station?”

“Who are you? My dad? Always looking for me, huh? How do you know I'm here?” I ask him, practically screaming.

“You think we didn't see you coming into Mrs. Larson's house? Well, we did.”

“You think you can spy on everyone `cause you're a cop but let me tell you, I'm not lettin' you spy on me! True, I'm a-”

“Whoa, whoa, now!”

“-kid and you're a-”

“Alexandra, stop it! You're makin' me-”

“-cop but that doesn't mean-”

“-deaf! Now stop screaming and get-”

“-you can do more things than me so get out-”

“-down to business!”

“-of my life, you hear me?” I scream and hang up the phone. I take some deep breaths and look back at Rena, Lila, Carrie, and Mrs. Larson. They're staring at me with big eyes.

Lila opens her mouth and says, still staring at me, “That wasn't the first time you did that.” And before she even finished her sentence, I knew I did something bad.

 

I ran over to the police station with Lila and Rena following right behind me.

“Sorry about the, uh, yelling. So… why do you want me here?” I say to Dan. Dan grins and leads me into this room. A room with five people. Who? Tim and the other guys. “Aw, no, I'm not going to stay in a room with those baboons.” And I was just about to march out of the room when Dan held on to my arm. “Stay here. I just want to make sure these are the guys…?”

“Nope, they're not.” I say.

“Oh?” Dan says. He looked really mad. “It took us hours to find these guys, you know.”

“I thought so. What I meant is that there's one more guy missing.”

I can already see one of the guy's jaw drop down to the ground.

“Do you know what he looks like?” Dan asks.

“Yeah, I know exactly what he looks like. He's skinny, and uh, his head is fat and round… he has brown hair… his eyes are huge and same with his ears. His nose is puny. And he has millions of freckles.”

He stares at me. “I think I know the person.” He gets out a phonebook and then starts flipping pages and finally he gets a phone and calls someone. “Hello… is Phil Garred there, sir… oh, okay, then, bye!” he clicks the phone off and says to me, “There's no Phil Garred.”

“Dude, what are you talking about?” Rena jumps in. “You said you know who the person is… and now you're saying there's no Phil. What are you driving at?”

Dan presses his lips together and says, “I met a guy once who looked just like who Alexandra described. I asked him what his name was… and he says it's Phil. I can't track him down!”

“What about his last name? How'd you call him?” Lila asks. Now, I've never seen her act this calm around cops before. She's afraid of cops and she'll never get near them-ever. And that's partly why she hates getting into my ideas-they work and cops come over to me.

The guy I'm describing is the guy who knocked me and Carrie down.

“I found a Garred in here, but that's a different person,” Dan says and shows her the phonebook.

“Oh… okay, then, now what?”

“I don't know,” I say. “Something's still bothering me. Don't ask me what-I don't know.”

 

I went home feeling really awkward. I was thinking about “The Man”. A lot. All I know about him is his look, and that he was aiming for the ring from Carrie. Who could possibly know about the ring, anyway? Tim and his jerk-friends. That's for sure. No wait a second, I'm going off the railroad. The Man is one of Tim's friends. Only he wasn't caught yet. So now what? I can't do anything to help the cops. I can't do anything!

Well, actually, there is one thing I can do. Something special to me. Finding a photo of me as a baby somewhere in Mrs. Larson's house.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

-TEN-

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I ran out the door and up to Mrs. Larson's house. I'm going to play Ding-Dong-Ditch. I ran up to the house and rang the doorbell and then hid in the bush. The door opened and stepped out a twenty-year-old looking woman. That's right, Carrie. She looks around both ways and then mutters something and then goes back in the house. I rang the doorbell again and went back into the bush. She comes out again and looks both ways and goes back in. I rang the doorbell again and this time, she ran out in the open street and shouts, “Stop ringin'! Kids like you know nothing.”

I ran in the house before she could even see me. And now I'm wondering where does Carrie sleep? Where's her room? But that's when I saw Mrs. Larson coming out of a room upstairs. I quickly hid behind the stairs and watched.

Mrs. Larson mutters, “I won't clean your room next time,” and goes downstairs. I knew she was talking about Carrie.

What if she sees me? I hug myself like crazy. Mrs. Larson passes me without even looking. Wow, that was easier than I thought it would be!

I ran upstairs and into the room I saw Mrs. Larson coming out of. I wipe my sweat and then started looking around Carrie's room. I looked under the mattress if there's any photo. That's where Tim keeps his photos.

And what did I find? Nothing. Nothing at all. Just some blankets. I looked under the pillows. Nothing. I looked everywhere! But what did I find? Nothing. I lie down on the floor and started rolling around thinking about Carrie as my mom. But that's when my head banged into something. “Ouch!” I cry. I sit up and found out that my head banged into a little drawer. I didn't see this before. I opened it up and found millions of pictures. But one picture bothered me a lot. It was a picture of a baby with new grown hair. Carrie looked like she was around seventeen. She was holding the baby up. Was that me? Nah, it can't be. I don't look that ugly. Or scary.

And then the door suddenly opens. I dive under the bed with speed and stay still. I heard footsteps coming closer and closer. And then I heard Carrie scream, “Cassie! Get over here! I told you not to mess with my pictures!”

I heard more footsteps. “I didn't touch that,” I heard Mrs. Larson say. She sounded calm.

“Then why is my baby's picture lying right here? Near the bed?”

“Carrie, I'm sure I didn't touch that drawer while I was cleaning. And besides, that baby is long gone from you.”

“Don't talk to Alexandra like that! I don't care if she's dead. She can hear you from heaven.”

This was it. She spilt the beans to me. That picture was me. Yeah, what a scary looking baby I looked like! And my own mom thinks I'm dead. Okay, well, I think she's dead-even though I can hear her right now, I think she's dead. At least out of her mind.

“Do you think… no, it can't be,” Mrs. Larson says. “No, it can't be…”

“What? What in lord's name are you talking about?”

“Do you think… do you think Alexandra is here?” Mrs. Larson says all frightened.

Oh no, she knows I'm here! I held my breath and waited for Carrie to freak out.

“Alexandra…? I've met tons of Alexandra's you know!”

“Alexandra Lanes. I think she's here. She and Lila and Rena. I think they're all here.”

“Alexandra Lanes? Isn't that my daughter?”

“No, it's a student from my class. She's not your daughter. She has a mother, you know. It's just coincidence that she has the same first and last name.”

“No,” Carrie whispers. “She's my daughter.”

“No she's not! Listen to me; I've met her mother before. I think her name's Jason. Yes… yes, that's it. Jason.”

“At least let me see a picture of this Alexandra…? Please?”

Mrs. Larson sighs and then walks away. A minute later, I heard footsteps and heard Mrs. Larson say, “Here's a picture of her,” and then I heard paper noise.

Carrie says, “No, that can't be her…” and then sobs, “It can't be her!”

I peek out to see what's happening.

Mrs. Larson patted Carrie's back and calmly says, “But, Carrie, she's not her. To prove it, I'll give a call to Mrs. Lanes and ask her if she found Alexandra.”

Oh, boy. I hope Jason picks the phone up. Not her mom or dad.

“Hello. Is this Mrs. Lanes speaking?” Mrs. Larson asks. She laughs and says, “Okay. Now, I'm just wondering if you adopted your daughter, Alexandra… oh, okay, then. I was just wondering,” and then clicks off the phone. She says to Carrie, “She didn't adopt her.”

Carrie sighed and says, “Oh, good.” I sighed, too, but if I had time before to choose if I would or wouldn't, I'd choose “wouldn't” and it would make a big difference. Because Carrie and Mrs. Larson both heard me and looked under the bed and saw a thirteen-year-old girl lying under there.

“Come out, Alexandra,” Mrs. Larson says and lends me a hand. “Thanks,” I tell her and then look up at Carrie. Carrie was steaming mad. She holds my neck and squeezes it. She is so strong she can even hold me up. “Stop it,” I shout. “Put me down!”

Carrie yells, “Why did you sneak into my house? It's not a public place, you worm!”

“I only did this because I wanted to look at the pictures!” I shout at her. She squints at me. “Why…?” I open my mouth and tried to think of a lie. “Because I wanted to find a picture of you dancing around the house in PJs, singing Christmas songs with peanut butter smeared around your mouth!”

“Why? I never had done that!” she screams. She squeezes my throat even harder.

“Stop it, Carrie!” Mrs. Larson shouts and ran over to me and tried to break us apart.

“I heard someone say that! Mrs. Larson, you said that!” I shout.

Mrs. Larson puts a hand right where her heart belongs. “I did not!”

I knew I did a huge mistake. Probably one of the biggest mistakes of my life. Accusing someone doing something they didn't. And I know how it feels, believe me, a person accused me of pushing a little kid into the pool and almost drowned her. But I didn't! I was just walking around the side of the pool and saw a little kid right next to me who jumped in the water.

“But she jumped into the water herself!” I had shouted at the person.

“No, I saw you push her down with my very own eyes!” she, the person, shouted right back at me.

“You're blind!” I said and then looked at the little girl. “Admit it; you jumped into the water yourself. I didn't push you,” I said to the girl.

At first, the little girl didn't say anything. I think I sounded a little too harsh on her, too, because the girl almost cried and shouted, “You pushed me into the water! Don't lie!” and I ended up getting slapped across the cheek by the girl, or should I say, The Person.

And so, I never really went to the pool afterwards. Well, never went to the pool, swimming without a hat glued to my hair and huge dark sunglasses.

 

And then, a photo just fell out of the drawer. Just fell. Let me tell you, it was magical. Scary. Because on the photo, what did I see? Carrie, in PJs, running around with her mouth opened like she's singing a song. With brownish-tan thing smeared around her face. Peanut butter.

I was right. And I was totally just making a lie up but it was true! And then all of a sudden, I felt sick. Magic is true? I just had to barf. And so, I puked right on Carrie's face. She closed her eyes and squeezed her lips together. She drops me to the floor. “Hey, I told you to put me down. It's not my fault,” and before she can say anything else, I ran out of the room and out of the house. I heard Carrie shout, “But this is not true! It never happened. Oh my golly, it's magic!”

I wiped the barf off my mouth and ran home. I called Lila and told her what happened. She laughed like crazy.

The next day in school was stinky bad. Stinky, stinky bad. Because right in homeroom, while Carrie was talking, she kept looking at me. It's scary; let me tell you, she glared.

“Let me teach you a lesson,” Carrie says. “Don't go sneaking into someone's house and hide under their bed.” She eyed me and then glares. Some people looks at me and laughs, “You did that to her?”

I just ignored them. I put my elbow on my desk and put my head against my knuckles. I glared at Carrie back.

“And,” Carrie continues, “Don't throw up on that person.” She glares at me again. I rolled my eyes and shout at her, “I told you it's not my fault you held me up, squeezing my neck!” And people were all ready amazed. They were saying, “She squeezed your neck?” and I just went on ignoring them.

Carrie goes up to me and screams, “Why did you mess with my pictures?”

“I told you! I told you I was looking for a picture of you, running around in PJs, singing with peanut butter smeared around your mouth! How many times do you have to make me repeat?” I shout.

She was getting embarrassed, that's for sure. Her face turns all red and you can see steam rising above her head.

She gets right in my face and screams, “Get out of this class!”

“You know what? That's just what I wanted to do. Fine, I will!” I scream back at her and get my backpack and stomped out of the class. But who did I see right in front of me? Old Mr. Mortis, waiting for me to spill the beans.

And really, I didn't want to tell him anything. But I knew I had to. Even tell him that Carrie is my long lost mom.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

-ELEVEN-

 

 

 

 

 

But I couldn't. I didn't want anyone to know. So all I did was telling him the truth until how I left Tim's house. I say, “But I stormed out of Tim's house because it stunk like old cheese.” And, the happy part, he believed me! At least he is not a truth-maniac like Carrie is. And when he asked me why I snuck into her house, I say, “Because I wanted to find a picture of Carrie running around in PJs, singing Christmas songs with peanut butter smeared around her mouth. That's why.”

“Oh? And why would you want to get through all that trouble just to find a picture like that? Don't you think that's mean?

“Well, no… I guess, yeah, but-”

“No buts-I want you to go back in that classroom and say sorry to her for me. As a favor…?”

I made a face at him and sigh. I slouched down and walk slowly back in the classroom. When I really got inside the classroom, Carrie shouts, “I told you not to-”

“Not my fault. Mr. Mortis says sorry to you,” I interrupt.

“Huh? He didn't do anything bad to me.”

I shrug. “I know. He just wanted me to say sorry to you for him, if you know what I mean.”

And I was telling the truth. Mr. Mortis said, “I want you to go back in that classroom and say sorry to her for me.” Did you get that part? For me? He wanted me to say sorry to Carrie for him. What a loser. Mr. Mortis. He never thought of that before. Ha-ha-ha. I guess it didn't turn out so bad. You know, the day in school.

In history class, while we were watching a movie, I had a tough time watching with all those people around me giggling and whispering and pointing at me. And then I heard a boy whisper, “She's the one that barfed on her! Remember the time she barfed on Mr. Langton?” and that made me so mad. I just wished people would forget the time I barfed on Mr. Langton, our previous history teacher.

My face turned fiery red and I was so mad that I took a piece of paper, wrote in capital and bold letters, “I'M GOING TO KILL YOU!!” I held the sheet up with two hands and showed it around.

“What's that?” Mr. Sanders snaps. He's the new history teacher. A very mean guy, too. In the first day he taught, he did almost the exact same thing Carrie did to me. Hold me up, squeezing my neck. All because I laughed. What a violent teacher is he? He's, like, as worse as Carrie! Or even worse.

“Alexandra! Are you listening to me?” He snaps at me with big eyes ready to bug out.

“Uh… what? Oh, yeah I'm listening,” I say with a big grin stuck on my face.

“Don't look at me like that, young lady!” he shouts.

“What? I didn't do anything wrong. I just smiled! Like kids are supposed to do at their teachers!”

“Well, don't do that! It's scary,” he says and I didn't argue him back. He kept staring at me, his eyelids halfway down. He sticks his lips out and narrows his eyes. It makes me laugh to see him like that, but I don't want to end up with a squeezed neck again, so I kept quiet.

 

“Alex, you actually snuck into Carrie's house? I can't believe it! That's so cool! Tell me all about it,” Rena says to me at lunch. Lila laughs and helps me fill in some story. When we're finish, Naira laughs evilly, “That's a lie. Maybe you did sneak into her house, but I bet the rest was just a lie.”

I turn around. “Oh, so you were listening to us, huh? Well, let me tell you this, I don't care if you think I'm not telling the truth. Believe me or not, I don't care.” I stick a tongue out at her.

“Yuck! Don't spit!”

“Well, I didn't.”

 

I was walking home from school. I walk right on the street and screamed. Because what did I see?

A truck coming right my way.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

-TWELVE-

 

 

 

 

That's right. A truck. And it's just about a few meters away from me, so I could've just run away from the street. But I was scared. I couldn't feel anything. I didn't feel like I could move. I just stood there and screamed and when it was about just two feet away from me, I knew it was