This whole story is metaphoric. The writing style and images contribute. The first paragraph is straight farword and basic. There is a reason. Read farther on in the story to find why. I created this story to just spread the word to others and me. I don't really listen to this story, maybe I should.....how about now. I shouldn't be the only one.
It was a normal day at Old Elk Middle School for the eighth graders. The first period bell rang and the traffic infested the halls. People arrived in Mrs. O’Donnell’s class. The first was a chunk of the pack. They had long slick hair and eye shadow that turned them into Barbie dolls. Their glittery faces sparkled. Next came the most known girl in the building. Rachel Cummings strutted in and made everyone’s head turn towards her. Then came the head bull of the pen; Andrew walked in proudly and so did his ‘C’ average grade. After the majors were here, Rachel’s satellite rushed in. Christina quickly took a seat beside Rachel. Last were Kyle and his only friend in the class, George.
As they took there seats, the majors talked quietly and snickered. They all looked at Kyle and smiled. Kyle frowned and looked at the blackboard with his right hand supporting his head. Mrs. O’Donnell closed the door and looked at the teens. She walked to the chalkboard and started to write points about United States history during the Civil War. Christina bent over to Rachel. The other majors followed her action to hone in. Christina looked at Kyle who didn’t look back. She turned to Rachel and whispered, “What do you think about this class? It is so boring. There is nothing to keep my attention.” The others nodded their heads.
Mrs. O’Donnell turned around and looked at the students. No one was looking away. She gave a speech about Robert E. Lee and then turned to the board again. The majors huddled again. This time Andrew spoke. “Let’s make this fun. Anything we can say about Kyle?” he asked. They looked at one another and then back at Andrew. “The other day I dropped my books in the hall,” Christina lunged over and said. “Kyle ran over dropping his stuff and helping me. I tell you. He is trying way too hard to get in with us.” All the others agreed. Some looked at Kyle.
Kyle looked at the majors. He noticed that some of the pack was listening too. “They must be talking about me,” he said indirectly to George. George looked over to Kyle. “Don’t even think that. No wait! Do think. That is one thing they don’t do” They laughed inside and bobbed their heads with grins. They looked over. Andrew eyed them and they quickly looked away. “Don’t throw your head around just yet,” George whispered. “High school is a new jump.” Kyle agreed.
Andrew looked back down. He opened his moth to announce his turn. “Last week our kicker kicked the foot ball over the fence. Kyle walked by and I shouted, `HEY NOTHING!’ He answered to it,” he said and smiled. The others smiled too. Andrew continued, “He just grabbed the ball and threw it over the fence, badly I might add. He didn’t do anything so I taunted him. You aren’t going to call me a bad word. He just looked down and walked away.” A member of the pack nudged him. She shook her head with a smile. “He is such a push over,” Rachel whispered with emphasis.
“Who – I mean what does he think is?” asked Christina. “I think he needs to go to special schools,” she said slyly. An abandoned member of the pack was walking by the classroom. Out of the corner of her eye she saw the majors mouthing in their click. The teacher was handing out worksheets to the person in the front desk and sat at her desk. The abandon rewound her mind to the day where lunch had just begun. She had no food and lingered in the dark away from them. She was not low and would never leave the pack, but they thought so. She hunted alone. Her eyes were taunted by the smell of food. She took a seat and out of no where Kyle sat beside her. She looked over and saw that he bought an extra lunch. He pushed the extra lunch to her. She gladly took the lunch and started to scarf it down. She saw Kyle and snapped by to civilization. She sat up and ate with the spork positioned the lunch tray. “Why are you doing this?” she asked. He looked at her and smiled. Her mind fast-forward and the abandon continued her walk.
That afternoon Rachel had to walk home that day. She still strutted strong. She turned into the greenbelt and headed down the unknown she had entered. She pushed her purse onto her shoulder and her flip-flops pushed forward. The trees glimmered sunshine and the birds flew high. The leaves reflected warmth on Rachel. Spider webs hanged in the tree branches farther behind the forest wallpaper. Ants marched two by two and attacked a beetle. There was no wind behind the wallpaper too. Everything was set for attacks. The flies flew around dead carcasses of past battles.
Rachel saw what went on behind the woods and related the scene to reality. She was not so farfetched. Her eyes widened. Suddenly, three demons broke the barrier of the wallpaper and surrounded Rachel. She screamed. They ripped her beauty. One grabbed her legs and another grabbed her arms. They were red with spiked hair on both ends of their head. They were not horns, though, they acted like horns. They ran their hands all over her body. Their tongues hissed. Rachel struggled against the demons. She grabbed one of their sleeves and ripped it off. There an upside down cross showed. Her eyes widened. They weren’t demons but devils.
One suddenly flew off Rachel. The others let go and stared at the attacker. Kyle stood before them. He had kicked the first one off of Rachel. “What are you going to do?” asked one. Kyle lifted up his cell phone and showed them the screen. 911 appeared on the screen. They hesitated. “Sar run!” Kyle shouted. Rachel ran behind Kyle and stayed there. The devils snarled and dashed at the couple with knives form their pockets. “AAHH!” Rachel cried as she and Kyle started to run towards the school. The devils pounded the ground. They didn’t run on two legs. Four legs were more like it.
Sirens were heard in the background. The devils stopped and looked at the two. They stopped as well. The devil dashed off into the hole of the wallpaper. Rachel took a step and pivoted to Kyle. “Why?” she asked. Kyle looked away then slowly looked back at her.
He turned his head away and then slowly looked at Rachel. “Because you were in need,” he replied.
“Why?” she asked. “Why are you so kind to us, even if we tortured you?”
“Because I want to show people to push judging out of the way and see with open eyes,” he replied.
The police ran into the greenbelt and trusted out their guns. They watched each others backs and then broke away to see if Rachel and Kyle were alright. They questioned the two. Rachel wanted to be taken home, but Kyle’s home was just around the corner. The police had to report in so it gave Rachel enough time to ask Kyle.
“Why did you call me Sar?” she questioned him again.
Kyle this time didn’t loose eye contact. “When I saw you being attack, I saw you as a Sara. And the first thing that came out of my mouth was my nick name for it Sar,” he said without hesitation.
Rachel anger grew. “HOW CAN YOU DO THIS? How can I accept this?” she shouted and then went into a normal talk.”You are at the bottom. I am not Sara. I am Rachel. I will never stand to your level. I judge and discriminate lower class students.” She started to cry. Her clothes were wrinkled and some parts were torn. Kyle walked over and gave a huge. Rachel took the huge and cried into it. She took Kyle. “Not in my life time I will let you fall,” he said. “I am not that person. I see you as you and for me…you are Sara.” The police men broke the stronghold up and they parted ways. Kyle continu8ed his walk down the greenbelt and Rachel walked with the policemen to the cars.
It was a normal day at Old Elk Middle School for the eighth graders. The first period bell rang and the traffic infested the lanes. People arrived in Mrs. O’Donnell’s class. The first was a chunk of the pack. They had long slick hair and eye shadow that turned them into Barbie dolls. Their glittery faces sparkled. Next came the most known girl in the building. Rachel walked in and everyone looked at her, and then came the head bull of the pen. Andrew walked in proudly and so did his ‘C’ average grade. After the majors were here, Rachel’s satellite rushed in. Christina quickly took a seat beside Rachel. Last was George.
Mrs. O’Donnell stopped everything and looked at the class. “I am sad to say that Kyle will not be attending school,” she continued. Rachel stood up and took a seat next to the front. The other majors were confused. Mrs. O’Donnell knew but didn’t speak of it. She continued, “Kyle was rapped and stabbed late last afternoon.” Everyone’s attention switched on. “There are three people. Not mental but evil people out there on the greenbelts. They are closed off right now until they are caught.” Everyone stared at the teacher. She still had more to say. “This is important. Your fellow student Kyle died out there and tried to call the police.” – Andrew bent over to Christina. “Fellow?” he asked sarcastically. – “He only dialed 91. They are quick and ruthless,” she end. “Please be care. Now I will call roll. Rachel!” Rachel turned her head to Mrs. O’Donnell. She took a deep breath. “My name is now Sara,” she said. “I would like to be called Sara.” Everyone turned to her. George was the most interested.
The dismissal bell for first period rang. Rachel walked out and George ran after her. He caught her attention and walked to the end of a hallway so no one say them. Tears started to penetrate his eyes. “He talked about you a lot,” he said. “I am so happy that you finally got to know him and not kill his self-esteem.” His tears still cried, but his face showed anger. “He is gone,” he directed to Rachel. Rachel put her hand on George’s shoulder. “Sara,” she said softly. “Sara,” George said softly with tears. “Sara,” Rachel Sara with more pride. “Sara,” George said sucking up his tears and said it with pride. The new strong hold walked along the hall. For Rachel, she walked along a lit path; a path that had no meaning but meant something. The path was right.
“You see. Kyle made a difference. You can make a difference if you try and try again. It will eventually impact someone somehow,” finished the school council. The student in her office cried and wiped her tears. “Thank you,” she said. She stood up and gave a hug. The student left the room and closed the door. On the door, it said, “Sara Cummings.”
- Title: Small is Large
- Artist: Leo_Dexxa
- Description: This whole story is metaphoric. The writing style and images contribute. The first paragraph is straight farword and basic. There is a reason. Read farther on in the story to find why. I created this story to just spread the word to others and me. I don't really listen to this story, maybe I should.....how about now. I shouldn't be the only one.
- Date: 11/02/2008
- Tags: small large
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