Mishap Child

By Janice Garcia

"Beep, beep, beep”, went my watch alarm clock. It had gone off straight in the middle of sewing class. Every girl glanced back at me, boring a hole straight in the side of my head. I started to feel warmth creeping up my cheek, yet I tried to ignore it. I was already in trouble. If the teacher heard it, I would be in trouble again.
She heard it.

"Lettie get over here," Ms. Dolata shouted in that husky annoying voice of hers. I stood up not a bit afraid, though I knew what was coming.

"Lettie, tell me where it came from now, or I'll have to call your Mother," shouted Ms. Dolata as though she was telling the students to look.

Well, I looked up at her, and I thought if I had to end up like her in an plain yellow dress with gray hair in a perfect bun with a straight jaw line, forget it. So I said in my most innocent, high-pitched voice,"I don't know what you are talking about Ms. Dolata."

That did it. She grabbed my hand and marched me straight into the dirty gray corner.

"You stand right here you little rascal, or you'll get it," Ms. Dolata said. She marched back to teaching the class.  I stood there, then I sat down. She didn't notice.

  A small wind blew throughout the class. I shivered. Then a piece of cloth fell off the window and into my lap. I stared at it. This was my opportunity to roll it into a tiny ball and hit her with my slingshot. Nah, I thought, that was enough for today. I just stuffed it into my pocket for tomorrow and smirked.