Stuck in the Middle School with You

This was supposed to be the happiest days of their lives. Whistlethwait Boarding School provided the finest education and luxury of any institution in the state. Each student was chosen to attend based on their familial connections and generous donations from their parents. 

Violet Bolen was not there as a result of her parents’ wealth however. Instead, she had tested far beyond the required lessons for a fifth grader. And as a result of her remarkable grades, the school saw fit to move her from fifth grade to seventh at the school via an academic scholarship. This made her the youngest and shortest girl in her classes. She had not gone through the change like the other girls had. Even still, Violet was aware of the chip on the shoulder that burdened teenagers who suddenly had the answers to the previously hidden truths of this world. This was especially true for Emily Harris, the undisputed biggest baddest bully of the seventh grade. 

The day that Violet made an enemy out of Emily they were in second period life science. Mrs. Montgomery the Merciless, stood next to her desk as the class took their first quarter test on the transmutation patterns of the prokaryotic cell. The yardstick that had nearly split several times against the desks of frightened twelve year-olds, rested by her side like a cane. Emily sat behind Violet and whispered to her friends making sure Violet could hear. 

    “My daddy said the Bolen’s come from trash. They’re so poor they have to hold up signs and dance on the subway platform for money. The only reason she is here is her mom gave Dean Sullivan a you-know-what in his office.”  The girls covered their mouths and giggled. Violet stared at the chair in front of her holding back the tears. Finally the passing period bell rang and she rushed from her table.

Before that day, Violet had no intention of making an enemy out of Emily Harris, but on that day she just happened to enter the wrong bathroom.   A cloud of mentholated smoke blew out as she opened the door to the girl’s lavatory on the third floor. There was Emily, leaning against the wall, cigarette in hand. Her oversized red plaid grunge button-up covered her school uniform. Adeline Mentz and Rachel Holland stood near her, mimicking her attitude as best they could. Everybody knew that this was Emily’s bathroom. Everybody except Violet. It was too late to turn around and walk out. Bullies were like lions. It was best to not turn and run lest they pounce on your back. So Violet walked with her head up high to the mirror. She feigned as nonchalant an attitude as she could while she applied her Dr. Pepper Lip Smackers and fixed her hair. The three stood silently against the wall. As Violet turned towards the door, she could feel the three girls look at each other and marvel at the audacity of this seventh grade midget in their bathroom. Violet felt something hit the back of her head. Emily’s shoe fell to the floor behind Violet. In an instant, the three lionesses circled around her, throwing insults like claw swipes. Adeline pulled Violet’s hair first and what followed was a blur of fists, blood, and toilet water.  It was the beat down of the century. The three girls left Violet leaning against the second stall toilet. Bloody and half-soaked she stood and walked to the mirror. The reflection was diminished by her swollen right eye. Violet washed her face with soap and water and leaned against the sink stopping herself from crying out. She would have to hide here until the third period bell rang. Footsteps came from outside of the bathroom door and Violet hurried back to the stall behind her. Through the crack in the door she could see Mrs. Montgomery in the mirror. Pink puddles of blood were still on the sink. Mrs. Montgomery sighed and her eyes caught Violet's in the reflection. 

    "You can't hide in the bathroom stall all day. Clean yourself up and get to class, Violet Bolen." 

And with that the not-so Merciless Mrs. Montgomery walked out of the bathroom. 

    This was the first of Emily Harris’s wrath. Every day Violet would leave class as fast as she could and run to her dormitory. Sometimes she would make it unscathed, but most days Emily would catch up to her. Her favorite thing to do was to stuff Violet into a locker. Being only five foot tall, a good six inches shorter than Emily, this was easy for the bully to do.  Mrs. Montgomery watched silently as Violet ran from her class at the end of each day followed by the three girls.

    One morning Violet did not come to class. The girls snickered amongst each other. 

   “I heard she just up and left Whistlethwait. Poor girl just couldn’t handle it. She’s probably back on the streets turning tricks with her dear mother.” The yardstick came down hard against Emily’s table slicing her pinky finger open. Mrs. Montgomery bent down next to Emily’s ear. 

    “Some people can handle more than others,” she whispered and walked back to the front of the class. 

Adeline passed a note to Emily folded in a thick triangular shape. The obligatory words 4U2C Only were written on the front. The drawing of Mrs. Montgomery was quite uncanny, Emily thought. The green hair stuck out wild and coiled in all directions on the top of her head. The red pen captured her forked tongue and eyes perfectly. And of course, the stink lines were spot on. Emily let out a laugh then quickly covered her mouth and lowered the paper. Mrs. Montgomery, with her back to the class, stopped labeling the parts of the cell and pressed the chalk so hard against the board that it snapped.

   "Emily. Bring that note up to me."  

How had she known? Her back had been turned to the chalkboard.

The class turned and looked at Emily as she rose from her seat and walked forward slowly like a walk to the gallows. “Dead girl walking,” George Hutchins said under his breath as she passed the rows of tables. Emily stood in front of Mrs. Montgomery’s desk and looked down twiddling her fingers on the hemline of her jumper. The end of the second period bell rang and the other students got out as fast as they could before the verbal lashing began.  As the students poured out of the classroom. Mrs. Montgomery, who had not turned her gaze from Emily, stood up, walked to the door and locked it. Emily’s heart beat began to beat faster. The room was stifling. She walked forward and put her hand out and Emily gave her the note. 

    “Mrs. Montgomery, please. It was just a joke.  I don’t want to be expelled,” Emily pleaded as tears began to well in her eyes.

    “Don’t worry about being expelled, Miss Harris. I want you to sit down and place your hands flat on the table.”

 She picked up the yardstick and paced back and forth tapping the yardstick against each table. The thwacks getting louder the closer she walked to the table where the girl, who had been so tough this semester, sat trembling with her palms on the table. Mrs. Montgomery hit the stick next to her hands. Emily flinched and Mrs. Montgomery began to chuckle. Only, her face remained still and expressionless. The laugh came from somewhere deep within the teacher’s throat. As if something inside of Mrs. Montgomery was making the noise. The most horrific smell crept up from the front of the room. The chair squeaked against the floor as Emily backed away to put her hand against her nose.  In too quick a second the teacher was at the table. She grabbed Emily’s wrists. Mrs. Montgomery continued to laugh as her nails grew into black claws and dug deep into Emily’s flesh. The flesh on the hands began to rip away leaving a thick ooze on Emily’s hand. Mrs. Montgomery took a step back leaving strings of tendon on the table. Chunks of sloppy flesh fell through the bottom of her tweed skirt. Mrs. Montgomery’s hands covered her face and her nails dug into her scalp. Emily backed up and fell against the desk. The deep and sinister laughter had turned into wails and whispers that came from each corner of the room. The skin hung like a flap at the bottom of Mrs. Montgomery’s chin. Her eyes opened red as burning embers. Hair fell from her head in clumps and Emily watched in disgusted horror as the top of her head began to bubble up. Dozens of blunt-nosed snakes pushed through her scalp. The snakes stretched out one by one and writhed around each other. The last of her skin fell to the floor. The being stood straight up towering eight feet over Emily as she cowered on the floor under the table. 

    The crowd of children passed through the halls each in a hurry to get to their third period classes. If they had only looked in the window of Classroom 232 they could have seen the green serpentine tail as it wrapped around Emily Harris’s neck and popped her head like a teenage whitehead. They would have seen the blood spray against the windows. As far as they knew Emily had been expelled that very day. And they were right in a sense. None of them saw. Nobody except Violet who watched from the locker that Emily had stuffed her in before class. She would have tried to call for help, but by then it was too late.