sawyer xenos : d12 : cbd2 : fin
Dec 31, 2017 15:55:32 GMT -5
Post by goat on Dec 31, 2017 15:55:32 GMT -5
sawyer xenos
12
female
district 12
12
female
district 12
“What happened at school today?” My older brother asks. He leans against the wall with his arms crossed. I look down at my lap and pick at the skin around my index fingernail. My brother sighs. “I'm not mad, Sawyer. I’m just disappointed.”
What happened was I punched a boy in the face. I think I was justified, but that’s hard to explain when your teacher catches you with his blood running down your knuckles. I broke his nose. My brother had to take me home early because my sister is working today. The rest of my siblings are still in school, so they’ve probably heard about what happened.
I’m not mean. Punching somebody doesn’t make you mean, especially not if they deserve it. This stupid boy was running his mouth, like he usually does, and then he turned to me and made a joke about my parents. Apparently, he didn’t see anything wrong with making a joke about somebody’s dead father and drug addict mother. I walked away from him, pretending I didn’t hear, when he grabbed my braid and yanked it.
You can guess what happened next.
My older brother sits next to me at the table. “I don’t want you to be a bad influence on your siblings,” he says, even though I’m the youngest. I don’t answer him. He sighs again and tells me to go to my room, which I do happily. I climb onto my top bunk and wrap my arms around my knees tight. I don’t care what boys say, not even my brother. I’m going to do whatever I want and they can’t tell me anything.
What happened was I punched a boy in the face. I think I was justified, but that’s hard to explain when your teacher catches you with his blood running down your knuckles. I broke his nose. My brother had to take me home early because my sister is working today. The rest of my siblings are still in school, so they’ve probably heard about what happened.
I’m not mean. Punching somebody doesn’t make you mean, especially not if they deserve it. This stupid boy was running his mouth, like he usually does, and then he turned to me and made a joke about my parents. Apparently, he didn’t see anything wrong with making a joke about somebody’s dead father and drug addict mother. I walked away from him, pretending I didn’t hear, when he grabbed my braid and yanked it.
You can guess what happened next.
My older brother sits next to me at the table. “I don’t want you to be a bad influence on your siblings,” he says, even though I’m the youngest. I don’t answer him. He sighs again and tells me to go to my room, which I do happily. I climb onto my top bunk and wrap my arms around my knees tight. I don’t care what boys say, not even my brother. I’m going to do whatever I want and they can’t tell me anything.
