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Rated: 13+ · Short Story · Drama · #1094323
This story is about conflict in schools and their impact.
The bright sun filled her with warmth, as the heat pierced her shirt. Becka searched again for the script that she'd been rehearsing all this week. The play was scheduled for next month and she couldn't mess up the opening act. Everyone would be there and so would he, She thought; Derrick Wright. Only the most gorgeous guy on the planet!

She checked again for the script and returned to class, hoping it easn't left at home. The total monster that lurked with it; she thought. Of course referring to the four foot, ball of energy that absorbed the room at home. His mere presence simply smudged her valiant aura; thinking with a smirk as she placed her math book on the desk. Groaning she turned her attention to the annoyingly large mole drifting across Mr. Gaggles nose. The one she tries not to look at every class period. The fact that his shoes appeared to be twice his size or that it appeared that he never even owned an iron; never entertained her mind only that his mole was the size of king kong's hand, and she never hears a word he's saying.

As the bell rang she flew out the door. Almost knocking down the other students,"hey Martha can I get a look at your notes again?" out of breathe by the time she caught her. "You really have to start paying attention, I have cheerleading in a minute." She replied. "Be by later" Becka said as she left down the overbearing hallway.

Becka walked in the slightly opened door to the aditorium, her eyes glancing around the room for him. The teacher glared as she sat in her seat. The teacher was a bit nervous as the opening day approaches quickly. Across the room was the biggest thorn in the side the world has ever seen. And contrary to popular belief her dung doesn't smell like roses. The envy of all eyes, the other students felt that she should have recieved the part of Juilet and Becka should have had the part of her extremely old mother.

After the bell rang Becka decided to stay after to rehears the lines for the play, a class mate loaned her a copy of the script. The auditorium was silent and smelled of pine sol from the janitors cleaning. A shadow appeared behind her, frantic she turned to see who it was; and it briskly disappeared. The eerie chill that filled the room worried her but she contiued on. As she began again the large arm came from behind striking her on her head repeatedly. The blows rendered her unconscious and blood spilled from her head. Hearing the sound the janitors ran from backstage. The vision was disturbing the girls head was split open. The janitors called for help. Becka woke up in the hospital. It was two days later, and her mother was sitting by her bedside hoping to speak to her beloved daughter soon. Becka's mother gave her a big hug.

Because the damage to her head was so bad she could not perform in the play next month, the rage in her heart was strong. At home her mother babied her and showered her with gifts as she truly delighted that her daughter returned. Becka lay quietly in her room, her feelings of frustration and sadness plagued her. She continued to write, but it was no use. She knew who committed this hanis crime against the play and all the loyal fans. Only a thorn that size could cause this much pain in a persons existance. But she would feel the pain she causes and blood will spill; she thought.

The play was opening tomorrow night and Becka vowed to be there. She was feeling better and wanted to see him again. Just one look would be nice she thought. As she arrived everyone was rushing in, she ran throught the parking lot staggering just slightly from the pain meds her mother gave her earlier. The lights grew dim and the auditorium grew silent. she crept back stage to the dressing room and saw miss high and mighty, a brut force took over and she lunged at her swinging and kicking with brilliant force. The girl flew to the ground as she continued to stomp her. The while pausing to catch her breathe the girl arose grabbing a broom from the corner. Becka pulled out the gun she had hidden in her bag. Without hesitation the girl swung with all her force as Becka pulled the trigger. A loud bang and the smell of smoke; as they both lay oppisite each other on the floor. Billowing screams as the director ran back to see what had happened. As Becka's eyes closed she saw him and gave one last breathe.

The auditorium was cleared out and the opening act never made it to the stage. Oddly though; While the detectives searched Becka's room for clues to this tragic tale they stumbled across her script, diary, and a new script. The new script involved a story identical to the one told today, was it death or just The Opening Act..?
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