a+story+about+a+poem

 I saw Jordan getting beaten up again, as I walked home from the store. I sighed and put my groceries down. Nobody would take them, and if they did, big whoop. I walked over, and heard Jordan threatening them. “You’d better leave me alone, or my brother will come and find me. You don’t want to mess with my brother.” He said, sounding really scared. “Jacob, shouldn’t you be playing with boys your own size?” I asked, announcing my arrival. As soon as he saw me, he relaxed a bit. Guys,off my little brother.” I said when I was about five feet away from them. “What are you gonna do about it?” The biggest boy said, looking like he was definitely ready for an easy fight. “Come on,” I said in a reproaching voice, getting a bit annoyed, “hands off my brother.” Then the biggest boy said in a taunting voice, “ Hey guys, she thinks she can make us leave her brother alone. Now where would she get the idea that she could take any of us in a fight?” He was definitely asking for a beating, and my patience was wearing thin. Dangerously thin, at least for their worthless hides. Then one of the bigger boys kicked Jordan. “Whatcha gonna do about it?” They were definitely asking for a fight that they couldn’t win. “Boys, if you don’t leave my brother alone, I’m not going to be very happy with you. I really would prefer it if I didn’t have to use force to get you to leave my brother alone.” I said, a heavy note of annoyance in my voice. Then one of the biggest boys punched Jordan in the stomach. That snapped my patience to pieces, very, very small pieces. I lunged for the boy who had hit my brother, but strong hands grabbed my waist and pulled me back. It was Shane. “Shane?” I said, dumbly, too surprised to say anything else. “Boys, knock it off.” He said in a demanding voice. They all froze. Then the leader of their little gang approached him. “You don’t have anybody to help you win the fight this time, Shane. What are you going to do about it?” The boy said, saying each word slowly, thinking that he was rubbing it in.

"I'm finished," the new girl said. She walked to the front of the class and handed in her page long poem to the gaping teacher. It was extremely rare for anybody to finish this language arts teachers' assignments in so quickly. Not even the straight A students could find something to write a poem on that quickly, let alone write it all in less than five minutes. The teacher snatched the paper off the desk and flipped it over to reveal the bare back of the page and said in a dignified tone, definitely a bit smug,"The assignment was to write a poem that covered both sides of the page." "Oh, my mistake," the new girl responded. "let me grab a longer one." She scurried back to her desk and shifted through her overly populated binder in search of a longer poem. A minute later she asked, "Is it okay if it's a bit longer than a two sided page?" The teacher gawked back at her with the funniest expression that I've ever seen. Under different conditions when I wasn't pondering this odd new girl, I would have started laughing really hard in response to the teachers expression. A minute later the teacher snapped out of her surprise and retorted "You really don't look like the kind of girl to be writing a lot of poetry. Huh. I don't think I've seen you before, are you new here?" The new girl responded shyly, " I spend a lot of time writing my poetry." The teacher persisted, "Yes I can see that by the depth of it, but are you new here?" I realized she was speaking over the papers that the new girl had given her and was only paying partial attention to what was being said because she was reading the poem. "Will you please introduce yourself to the class?" the teacher said. The new girl grimaced and said in an even shyer voice than before,"Um...I'd rather not." "Nonsense." the teacher responded. Apparently she was finished reading the poem. Now she was in the mood to make this girl that had ended her streak of being one of the few teachers that really proved to be a challenge to all of the students at this school pay for it. "How are they supposed to address you if they don'teven know your name. So, your paper indicates that your name is Molly." She wasn't going to let Molly get out of this peacefully. "Does anybody have any questions for Molly?" This teacher is truly harsh, I thought. Molly looked around the class with pleading and horrified eyes, begging everybody to just save it for later. I felt really bad for her, I was the shy guy in my small group of friends and I know what it feels like to be the new kid when you're are extremely shy. I've always traveled a lot for my parents jobs. They were transferred once a year for about five years, but last year they finally put their foot down and quit to start up their own business here in town. I remembered all this as she looked at her feet hoping nobody would bother her. "Yes, my name is Molly, and I just moved here from northern California. Who would have known I'd end up in rainy, cold, Seattle." She said all this a little too quickly. She tried to make a run for it, trying to get back to her desk. The teacher wasn't pleased with this. next page 