The Girl, Part 4
Even with a lot of food and caffeine in me I somehow couldn’t keep myself awake in class. When I was in english class though I was especially tired. Every time my teacher Mrs.Teller Would ramble, ramble, ramble. My head would fall down the back side of my arm. Less and less supported by it. Until I slumped over on my desk, asleep.
Rapidly something popped into my head It was a “white dream.” A vision in my head that showed a cart slowly rolling down a pearl hallway. My mind was telling me it was a tough place. A place you didn’t want to be in.
”WHACK!” A yard stick smacks down on my desk with a roaring crack.
”Wake up! We don’t make time for sleeping. DO WE!” Mrs.teller didn’t have the best reputation for being the nicest teacher. But I didn’t say a word to her ever after that. When I got home I felt sick. And not like common cold sick. I felt mentally sick. My mind felt like it needed to vomit something. Something bad.