What are your opinions on my story?
the day hadn't improved. She found out that her grade in Geometry had went from an eighty-eight, to an eighty-four. Mr. Schneider gave her a disappointed look. She frowned. If only he would rub it in more. After that class, she was told to remove her N.W.A shirt and was forced to wear a used gym shirt. She decided to talk back to the lunch monitor who had requested her to do so. She was in no way going to wear a stupid gym shirt instead of her worn out t-shirt. That earned her detention for fourth period.
Mr. Conner was surprised to see her show up in his classroom. He looked up from the television screen to see her walking in. He was a pimply man in his early twenties. Bailey guessed he was bullied in school too since he was always sympathetic with her. It created a strong bond between the two.
"Bailey? What are you doing here?"
Bailey just pointed to her t-shirt before taking a seat next to a boy with a Mohawk dyed green. Detention wasn't bad at all. Mr. Conner allowed them to page and listen to their music while he got to watch Basketball. It was basically a party if you got detention.
At the end of the day, she collected her things from her locker before leaving. On her way out, Ginny and Brenda stopped her.
"Please move," she said.
"Come on!" Ginny said sweetly. "Let's take a little walk."
But the two girls put an arm around her before walking down the hallway.
"So sad you missed the party," said Brenda.
"Yeah, maybe next time!" Ginny tittered.
Bailey could smell the strong Chanel perfume on Ginny. Just the smell of any scent gave her an allergic reaction. She sneezed quietly.
"Leave me alone, please." she begged. "I'm not in the mood."
The girls were still not listening. They took a turn which led to the freshman hallway. Bailey tried to wither away from them, but they just clamped their hands on her like a vice. By the time they let her go, Brenda had opened up a door that led to the janitor's closet. Ginny instantly shoved her in, shutting the door behind her. Bailey screamed. They knew she was claustrophobic.
She heard the door lock. She tried banging on the door and calling out for help, but no one was coming. This was creative for them. She never thought they had it in them to think about locking their former friend in the janitor's closet.
"Somebody help me!" she yelled. "I'm trapped in here!"
Her voice was drowned out by the squeaking of sneakers and laughter. She began to hyperventilate. Being in a tight space for a long time inevitably caused her to pass out.
"Help, please," she said weakly.
Just when she was about to give up, the door opened. Mr. Marshall, the school's custodian, stared at the shaken girl.
"How'd you get in here?"
"Oh, I don't see why you kids think you can go and play hide-and-seek in here." he said. "This isn't safe. Why don't you go play on the swings instead?"
Mr. Marshall was a senile, sixty-something year old man who thought he was working at an Elementary school. The only reason he still worked there was because none of the staff had it in their hearts to fire him.
"Sorry," she replied before dashing out of the closet.
She ran outside to the school buses. When she got to the bus pickup, she saw that the bus was already leaving.
"Oh, man!" she moaned.
She tried running after it, but she couldn't catch up. To her horror, the bus was already speeding down Washington Avenue. Not only did she not have her car, but now she didn't have a bus to take her home. For a moment, she thought it was a blessing in disguise. At least now she didn't have to deal with Maria and the obnoxious loud students. On the other hand, it was going to take her thirty minutes just to walk home. If only they made it so cellphones could be inexpensive and smaller. That way it would make it a lot easier to get into contact with someone.
She walked slowly down the sidewalk. This was all her father's fault. If he hadn't taken her car keys, she wouldn't be having this problem. At the stoplight, a black convertible pulled up beside her. It was filled with none other than William, Olivia, Ginny, and William's best friend, Adam Studebaker.
"Loser!" Ginny and Olivia said in union.
Ginny tried to hurl a cup of coffee at her, but Bailey ducked in time. The cup splatted next to her feet. Thanks to Ginny, Bailey had greatly improved her reflexes.
It's based in the 90's, of course there would be a boy in detention with a green Mohawk. lol
- unanimusLv 49 years agoFavorite Answer
Seems like any other generic story that a young person would write, awkward and boring.
Not trying to be rude here, but I just don't like it.
It contains numerous cliches; The bad boy has a Mohawk, and the mean girls wear expensive perfume....
Keep working on it.
- 9 years ago
I think that its really good and you should keep writing and I;m also thinking about having my story about a girl who gets bullied!! Can you answer mine to please?!
- vrsicksLv 69 years ago
It's immature and full of errors.
Here's an example: "...her grade in Geometry had went from an..."
- Anonymous9 years ago
It sounds really good! whats the genre?Source(s): xoxox
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- 9 years ago
aww, poor Bailey! I really like this story, it's doing good so far. keep it up!