SUNSHINE POUR THROUGH THIS CAR WINDOW Sydney Kovarsky 7th Grade • Gwendolyn Brooks College Prep
“Cal!” some lady screamed. I suddenly bring my head up and shake my desk noisily from shock. My vision is blurry but the bright shining sun light spilling through the curtains strains my eyes. I wipe my eyes and as my vision clears, I see that I’m in class, in my desk in the middle of the room, everybody’s eyes on me. I look straight ahead again as the teacher’s body is blocking my entire vision. I look up to see my teacher Ms. Weingate in front of me, a sour expression on her face as she pushes her tan glasses up. She was wearing a black skinny dress with her brown hair up in a bun. “Hey, Weingate,” I said drowsily. My eyes were still squinted from still adjusting to the light. “How are you?” “It’s Ms. Weingate to you.” she said sternly. “Well, potato potah-to.” I shrugged off. She narrowed her lips and her purple, sapphire eyes. Suddenly, she lifted her hand with her palm facing the ceiling, and strained her fingers. Green vines slowly started to flow out from the middle of her hand and gracefully pointed themselves to me. I got up from my seat and rolled my eyes. Her vines wrapped around my body and restricted me tightly, her face clearly annoyed. “How many times is this going to have to happen?” she called out. “Not everybody is afraid of you.” Her vines lifted me up
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