Daisies for Arrolette
I rolled myself down the street. My arms tugged at my wheelchair. As I moved a crowd of highschoolers stared while I maneuvered through them. They stared like they had never seen a disabled person before. I see them every day, why make such a fuss over a person who can't walk? I decided to ignore the looks and glares as I made my way to class. With books in my lap, I entered room A307 to begin my Government class. When I wheeled into the desk specifically made for me, one with no chair, I got out my assignment from the night before. From the back of the room, my teacher, Mr. Wane, sounded faint and muffled. I knew my hearing was impaired, but he could at least talk a little louder. All I could make out was his last sentence.
"Class, please trade your papers for grading." I hear as him say as he paces the floor, hands folded behind his back. I quickly obey his command and give my paper to the girl in front of me. When it was finished, I got it back and was stunned. There were so many red marks I didn't even know where to begin. The girl who graded it was named Torrie, and she would usually sit in silence, but after my paper was handed back she turned to me.
"Don't you know anything? It's obvious that the Smith Act of 1940 was the law the made it a crime to advocate the overthrow of the U.S. Government. You put the Alien and Sedition Act. Retard." She spit in my face. I had to use all my strength not to slug her. I clenched my fists together over and over. Somehow that usually relieves my stress. But not this time.
Suddenly a rage ripped through me. I was sick and tired of every one laughing and glaring and calling me retarded. I am still human. I still have a heart. I still have feelings. Then, it was in those few seconds, where I punched Torrie Kraimer in the jaw. The corner of her mouth bled down the side as she leaned toward the floor. Mr. Wane ran straight to her and looked at me, horrified.
"To the principal's office. Now." His voice was filled with anxiety. I pleaded with him. This was not fair! Had he not heard the way she was talking to me? Nevertheless I rolled myself to the principles office. Our head, Ms. Pearson was a thin, clamy women with straight red hair and pointed features that matched her pointed glasses. And her clown-like make up wasn't helping. When I went through the doors to the office I was immediately shocked by the interior. The walls were all white, the tables, desks, and chairs, all white. It made my time a lot worse because it was as though you could see every detail of Ms. Pearson's face. A cold chill ran through the room. After reaching the front desk, a secretary waved me to go inside the glass doors that led to the office.
"M-Ms. Pearson?" I studdered as I wheeled toward the chair that held the beady eyed principal.
"Ah, Arrolette, Arrowlette Maine, yes?" she glanced up at me, peering through the thick framed glasses, hands crossed under her chin.
"That's correct ma'am." I say, gulping slightly as she continued to examine me like a drop of water in a microscope.
"Why are you here Arrolette?" She questioned, keeping her eyes on me as she stood and moved to the front of her desk.
"Well, I-I uh-"
"Yes?" She stressed as she awaited my reply.
"I punched Torrie Kraimer." I tell her, closing my eyes to hear my fate.
"Miss Maine!" she shrieked, placing a boney hand on her chest. "Why would you, of all people, ever do something so vicious?" She held the word like I were some sort of poisonous snake.
"Well Ms. Pearson she-"
"I don't want to hear any excuses now, do you understand?" She eyed me suspiciously, one slender eyebrow inching up her forehead.
"No no! If you only heard what she had said to me!" I quickly protested.
"That's enough now!" She commanded, "If that is all, you best walk back to your classroom."
I thought for a moment I was off the hook, no punishment of any kind, until she said something that made my blood boil.
"Or should I say, roll."
That was when I snapped. I wheeled around and went as fast as I could, right up into Ms. Pearson's face and whispered through my teeth:
"You say that again, and I won't be the only one rolling out of this room."
And to think, that was the last day of my life.