She laid her head on the cold gym mat. A towel? That’s all we get for protection, for warmth? Exhaustion was colored in the black circles under her eyes. That game we played last night was ridiculous, but she seems to think it was worth the exhaustion. It’s never a good idea to put your hand between the snapping gates of Jake’s snout, but her father laughed from the irritation the dog felt, which only pushed her. She gets naptime, but my kind never catches a break. Always voluminous and forever tangled, if only she’d buy more of that leave in conditioner! Mrs. D smeared cheap costume crayon on her lips and teeth. She cleared her throat and announced the children would have twenty minutes of naptime today. Holly had sarcasm plastered from cheek to cheek, “Wow Mrs. D, you’re a saint” sort of thing. Mrs. D noticed, “If you don’t wipe that smirk off your face it’ll be a ten minute snooze,” like anyone cared. God she’s tacky, and her hair looks like it’s made of bricks and plaster! How does she manage to walk indoors? Does her hair block her from entering classrooms? The smell of cheap 80’s hairspray suffocated the children as they tried to sleep, and the sound of chunky jewels smacking against the cherry oak went off like a bomb. How can these five year olds bear it? “Nap times over! Snap out of it!” I guess they don’t have time to even try bearing it, Mrs. D wouldn’t allow that. Holly arose obnoxiously, and quite theatrically winning the giggles of a few classmates. Mrs. D wasn’t giggling, her eyes, disguised by layers of blue eye shadow, gleamed with evil intention. “Okay smart mouth, come up to the board and do what I say,” Holly dragged her feet and put on a pout, this could only be bad. Bad is the only thing Mrs. D knows, she lives and breathes bad. “Write six plus seven on the board…with the answer,” Holly can do math, but after excess mental abuse through Mrs. D it’s become a fear. With a shaky hand, the slender chalk embraced the board as Holly’s classmates pierced holes in her back. All they could do was tease, and through their teasing they judged. A five year olds brain is a sponge seeping with information mimicked from television and movies. Parents these days are too selfish to take their kid to the park, so instead they squat them mindlessly in front of a TV. Whatever happened to feeding the ducks? It works for both of us. Children need to realize the sunlight is good for their hairs physical appearance, except if you’re blonde. Holly began to cry, fat tears rolled down her cheeks even as she bit her lip in protest. She looked to Mrs. D, even as a five year old she knew to seek help from adults, but Mrs. D grinned as she smacked a wad of gum between her cheap lips and scarlet stained teeth. Mrs. D barely gave Holly a chance to suck back tears and think before she blurted, “What are you in LaLa Land?” With those simple words, disguised in an ugly Brooklyn accent, Holly fled from the room as laughter chased from behind. She ran passed every jail cell of a classroom, and right out the front door into the sunny Manhattan day. She passed the little corner deli, where the owner always charged a dollar less to all her purchases. She stopped for just a moment to gaze at the mouth drooling pickles floating in the jar, Holly picked up her craving for pickles from her dad. They both loved to drink pickle juice out of the jar with straws; Holly’s mom was always repulsed by it. The disapproval her mother expressed from the pickles reminded her of her judgmental classmates so she continued down the solemn street. It was a sunny Manhattan day in October, and all though such a thing is rare, Holly couldn’t enjoy it. The sun reflecting in the street turned into black clouds enveloping every smile and every vibrant tree plot lining the block. At least for Holly, but the sunshine felt warm and comforting to me. Holly walked in a trance all the way home, her mom was surprised to see her five year old coming home an hour early and alone. After surprise sunk in, panic took over as Holly’s mother grabbed her and shook her like a rag doll. Holly told the entire story, and mentioned this was one of many incidents involving Mrs. D and her self-esteem. Holly’s mom called her small Lutheran school and reported Mrs. D. The next day at school Holly volunteered to go to the board, where she solved math problems with confidence and ease, and a little flash of the tongue to spite Mrs. D.