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Creative Writing.

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Revenge of a Teenager (Creative Writing). Ann-Marie sat in class gazing at Chris Brown, she watched as he leaned over to his friend, Nelly and passed him a note. Her small school blouse and shorter-than-normal skirt defined her curvaceous body. Nelly saw Ann-Marie watching his friend, he giggled and motioned to Chris to look behind him. Chris turned and looked back at Ann-Marie. She was caught out and her elbow slipped on the desk and dislodged his small tin pencil box, it crashed to the floor making a loud noise. The entire class turned and laughed at Ann-Marie, she felt the heat of a crimson blush as a rush of prickles ran up her back from embarrassment. She glanced back at Chris and Nelly who were still looking at her, giggling. A quiet fury surged inside her; she hated it when people laughed at her, it was worse when Chris did though as he seemed to know she liked him. Humiliated, Ann-Marie slumped in her chair and lowered her gaze to her desk. Surely no more ridicule would eventuate if she lay low for the rest of the lesson. 'Ann-Marie Lawal!' shouted the Legal Studies teacher, Mr Carlson. 'Would you stop daydreaming and concentrate! I don't like your attitude young woman. I'm trying to inform the class about the Queensland court system and all you can do is stare at your desk? ...read more.


Ann-Marie read her mark. She felt nauseous when she learned Mr Carlson had given her a 'C-' for her paper. She swallowed hard, managing to contain her disappointment, dejection and anger. The bell rang for the end of class. There was no time to see Mr Carlson about her mark and she already knew there was no point in seeing him anyway as it was unlikely the mark would be altered. Ann-Marie hated Mr Carlson for all the humiliation and frustration he caused her and she hoped tomorrow would be better. Ann- Marie got home at around 9:45 when her mother began questioning her about her late whereabouts. As Ann-Marie lay in a ball on the floor in self-pity, she heard the front door's lock open and turn. Followed by the heavy footsteps of the 16 stone Officer and her mother leading the way; walking down the corridor, passing the lounge, the kitchen, coming towards her room. She opened her eyes and with a huge sigh pulled herself to her num feet. She heard her heavy bedroom door open and the Officer's footsteps drawing closer, his hand on the door handle as he twisted its smooth round nob. The door opened, she quickly turned and washed her hands trying to relief her skin from the blood of her enemy. The Officer came close and said boldly, 'Ann-Marie...is it? I believe you own the 1950 Sigma'. ...read more.


It's very likely that the police will want to ask some of you questions regarding the incident.' Ann-Marie was feeling very uncomfortable. It was good news that they had Mrs Golding for the rest of the year. As she liked Mrs Golding as she was quite friendly to Ann-Marie. She couldn't remember her ever trying to humiliate her in anyway like Mr Carlson used to. Ann-Marie didn't, however, like the fact that the police were around asking questions. If they were looking for students with personal vendettas against Mr Carlson, she was a prime suspect. Everyone knew Ann-Marie hated Mr Carlson and they knew how Mr Carlson treated Ann-Marie. 'I understand all of you are stunned and upset to hear of this tragedy. I'm going to let you all go home for the rest of the day.' The class remained silent as it moved out of the classroom. There were quiet discussions between some of the students, still shocked by the news. Ann-Marie walked to her car, she was one of the few students who drove to school. On many occasions she would give one of her friends a lift home. Not today. She looked at the dints in the fender and the bonnet of her clapped-out, rusty-brown Sigma. She examined a smaller dint closer to the windscreen and noticed a trace of blood that she had failed to hose off last night in the dark. Ann-Marie smiled and began walking to the door of the car. Sigh of relief. ?? ?? ?? ?? Annie- Marie Lawal, Acton High School Ms Lofters ...read more.

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