Kiru is a name I invented myself, because I wanted a unusual name for the protagonist, so I...
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Ugh, what a day I had. The “oh, so nice” –as the teacher says, popular crowd once strikes again. They’re the top champ. They’re the royalty. Woo hoo. Yeah right, hell like that gonna ever happen. Well, my name is Kirula Inenetia, the victim of the blessed-to-have-demon-inside-of-them, the popular crowd. I was just being sarcastic for their, a pain-in-the-butts’ sake. To me, the popular crowd is dirt. Filthy, worthless, piece of an aged stinky fish to me. On other hand, there are good
people around us. Like for an example, my freaking awesome teacher of all, Mrs. Lovela. Cue the applause for her. Cheer, cheer! Well anyway, like I was saying, the idiot pop crowd was pestering me again. God, they try to insult me and yell at me continually. Immature, right? They never even damage my feelings a slightest because I have tough skin myself. They see me as a challenge and try to woo me. Kidding, for real they are just a pain in the neck. I always ignore them like this: Walk. The popular crowd pops, (no pun intended) and insult me. Roll my eyes and say “Immature, don’t you guys have better stuffs to do?” Then walk away. The method usually work on they to get them leave me alone. It always happens once each day. Groan.
“Umm, Kiru, you okay?” Huh? Oh, my best friend Meloney was next to me standing at her locker next to mine. Her face was creased with anxiety. Sigh, Meloney is really a great friend. “Yeah, I’m fine, just a little annoying flies irritating me. AGAIN.” as I scramble for my textbooks in my locker, rolling eyes. She looked alarmed and said, “The unmentionables? Again?” I nodded. I slammed my locker, while Meloney continues talking; “Don’t they honestly get tired of you? I mean you are easy to get tire of—.” I whipped to glare at her. She grins. I gave her a karate punch (After all I am black belt.) on her arm hard. “Hey at least be nice. I am a person who knows karate, after all.” Meloney cracked up. I gave in and laughed along with her.
A dong echoed out the hallway. Meloney and I were holding to her locker for support from laughing so hard. I turned to look at the clock while panting, “Melo, I gotta go for my classes. Good luck in your play rehearsal!” I said. Meloney was one of the lead parts in the play; she had good singing voice, remarkable acting skills and talented dancing legs to boot. She was Oliver in Oliver! By Charles Dickens. Apparently, it’s about a thriving boy. Besides that, many people were happy for her to get such grand part at her first debut as an actress. Who knew she had it in her? Meloney smiled and said “Good luck, too.” As she went to her class. I picked up my backpack and snorted, “What for?” even though I knew what she meant. Still I don’t know honestly if I can deal with “Good luck” people as otherwise the pop crowd. See? I even ran out nicknames for the pop crowd. I groan exasperated and went to my class. The classes are boring. Why? Because for the truth, I, am college-level intelligent. No one knows it, except my family. My household and extended, agreed to keep it secret. If we didn’t, the government would whip me away and use me for testing and war strategies. No thanks to becoming a lab doll. My family loves me too much to be taken by the so-called helpful government. Mom and Dad wanted me to lead a normal life while all the real schooling is at home and online. The school is my social provider, as my parents term it. Beside the clubs and fun classes, I describe it as my torture playground. It’s where I can torture people and get tortured in return. Basically this place isn’t something I’ll go unless Meloney was here. So I’m here for my best friend. That way, I’ll get to spend time with her. Well… Whoopee, my favorite place. The burning hell designed for me. I walked and turned right, just to enter into my class peacefully without any interruptions, (If you know what I mean by that). As I entered into my classroom, my ninth grade teacher, (I am in ninth grade and my age, fourteen years old) was scolding couple girls for bringing food in his classroom. I like my math teacher. He’s awesome! “All right class, listen up.” My teacher stood in front of his desk in this pastel gray room, (perfect for this dull math, humph) with his voice echoing to the students. The students quieted down watching him for directions. With his bare dark brown skin displaying a tattoo of math inked deeply into his dark brown skin, it was easy to understand how huge the length of his love of math. He started speaking, “Students, get your math homework out, and pass it forward gently.” He stared at the troublemakers with his eyebrows both raised up. I knew what he was thinking about. The troublemakers were what he was referring to, but it doesn’t matter because they never finished even the halfway homework. They think it’s a waste of time. Personally, I could understand them, (No offense, teachers) but that doesn’t applies to me because obviously I’m college smart, my opinion doesn’t count for it. “Miss Inenetia, please come up here.” I looked up suddenly snapped from my trance of fantasy. I put down my stuff on my desk and went to him. The drill for me every morning. Mr. Geo pulled his head from his desk and said “Miss Inenetia, you’re doing as expected, well after correcting the homework I gave you.” He smiled “However, just a few mistakes.” Mr. Geo pointed at the paper with circles. “Considering for a college genius level.” Now let me say this to you folks, how did he know it? Did he threaten me to find out about it? Did he accidentally find out about it by coincidence? Did he get it out of me by tickling me constantly? Nope. My math teacher is only one trusted to know the truth of what-oh-am-and-who-am-I identity, to get my appropriate schooling for me. Did you take a double take? Heh. Of course you wouldn’t know that he’s my uncle. Yup. Most of my time, I have to do home schooling. “A few mistakes, Mr. Geo?” “Yes, just couple little ones. Did you babysit again and had to stay up late to finish homework?” Bull eyes. As usual, what a thing to expect from my dad’s brother. The fact that he basically knew everything about me, ever since I grew up with him babysitting me was disgusting at my age. I was born a Puerto Rican family half and half white family. I wanted a nice soft tan and wavy dark brown hair like my mom unfortunately, in that department of genes hasn’t gone the way I wanted. Instead of cool tan and brown hair, I got palest skin that people thought I was a vampire, that is nonburnable for some reasons or whatever so (I’m glad cause I could go to the beach and not get burnt to a crisp, I wonder that my Puerto Rican part?) along with long, long, straight shiny black, with splits and bangs longer the eyebrows. Addition to piercing green eyes. A nice figures though, so it wasn’t a complete loss. I returned to math from my train of thoughts and groaned. In front of Mr. Geo, ready to be sarcastic,
“Hello? I’m a human being, no need to be flinging me sarcastic remarks, Mr. Geo.” While smirking, he looked at me amused
“Miss Inenetia, I suggest you keep it down.”
I glared at him and put my hand on his desk and whispered coldly “Fine, I’ll keep it down and if you want me to do all the math questions correctly, I’d advise you come and babysit your own brother’s off springs.”
“Kiru, please be serious for once, you know that you have to keep your intelligence in secret.”
“What, like I’ll spill it and sell my life to a plaguing, repeating, failed government? Yeah right and you were just being sarcastic a minute ago!”
“I realized that and apologize for that unnecessary remark, but you need to not slack off your homework.” He paused and puts on his glasses “Do your best, okay? Miss Sarcastic.” He smiled that screams what-a-cute-niece smile and attitude. “Get back to your work.” He said, giving me the lesson plan and worksheets for today. I swore in my head and sulked to my desk. Humph, I can’t wait till after school.