This is one I wrote for an assignment for a writing class I took a couple of years ago. Any suggestions? Any personal connections? Let me know!
“Today’s children should be taught to treat everyone with respect!” shouted the protestor. The swarm of frightened parents had formed in front of Layton Middle School the morning after three eighth graders had jumped a sixth grader.
Reyna half-listened to the news clip she found on Youtube while researching information for her bullying project. She chatted online with her friend back home and belted a Katy Perry song playing on her iPod.
She typed, it’s freezing here! I want my arizona sun! 2 girls talked 2 me 2day in social studies. Dulce is nice. Karla is loud! Miss you!
On day two at her new school, Reyna found Dulce smiling and waving on the front steps. Then, like a tornado siren, Karla sounded off from across the lawn, “O-M-G! What is that HUGE red knob on your nose, Dulce?!” Dulce stopped breathing for a split second and dipped her head to hide the zit, her lips forcing a smile. Before Karla made it to the steps, Dulce had time to whisper, “It’s no big deal. I’m used to it.” Karla broke into an obnoxious rendition of “Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer,” then cackled, “Just kidding!”
Reyna couldn’t figure it out. The only part of Karla that was huge and intimidating was her mouth, but she clearly had a knack for turning faces fire-red with embarrassment. Reyna thought, Why didn’t Dulce stand up for herself? What if Karla starts making fun of me, too?
As the trio clicked down the science hall in their heels, Karla suddenly did a double-take. Dread pressed down on Reyna’s chest when she realized who caught Karla’s attention. “Oh, no,” she mouthed. “Not him.”
“Hey! Who’s that kid? I’ve never seen him before,” quizzed Karla.
“He must be a sixth grader,” Dulce said softly, hoping Karla would just go to class.
“Why is he walking funny?” Karla persisted loudly.
“Um, I think he might have a fake leg,” said Dulce.
Reyna’s breathy voice emerged, “You mean prosthetic leg. It’s called a prosthesis.”
Karla’s eyes were tenacious. “Yeah, whatever . . . HEY, LIMPY!” Though the crowd of voices was squelched, the feet shuffling intensified. No one else wanted to risk being a target.
Cringing, Reyna said, “Karla, he has a name, don’t call him that.”
Karla’s momentum intensified. “You should go out for track! Maybe you could win a medal!” The boy never looked back at her.
Reyna had heard enough. Before Karla could spit out her next piercing comment, Reyna slammed her against the locker. “Shut. Your. Mouth. He’s my brother! He has a right to be here just like anyone else, and he should not have to listen to your ignorant, ugly comments!”
For once, Karla was speechless. Reyna walked away, having immediate clarity about how she would present her bullying project next week. With a deep breath of relief, Dulce followed.