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Third-Grade Accusations 724 words (1 Viewer)

Is this worth publishing

  • Yes- definitely

    Votes: 0 0.0%

  • Total voters
    4
  • Poll closed .

iceguy303

Senior Member
When I was in third-grade, I had my first experience with that particular humiliation that seems to only come from encounters with the opposite sex. We had a new girl from Wisconsin join our class. My friend Steve and I had an instant crush on her from the first day. We would share our daydreams of rescuing Jessica from whatever disaster our capricious minds could drum up while we walked home from school together.

Weeks later, as luck had it, when our teacher Mrs. Alanson made the seating roster, she sat Jessica directly behind me. I looked back at Steve with a smile, knowing that fortune and true love had fallen into my lap by a seating assignment. “Mrs. Alanson must know that Jessica likes me, else she wouldn’t sit her right next to me in class,” I taunted Steve on the way home.

“Whatever,” he would respond in a truculent fashion. My enthusiasm for the subject never wavered, even with his fierce attempts to change the subject. I never expected he had plans to retaliate.

Days later, I came down with chicken pox and missed a week of school. Any time when an ill classmate was going to be out for more a few days, Mrs. Alanson,- who looked very much like Ralphie’s teacher from the movie A Christmas Story- would have us all draw get-well cards for the lucky brat missing class. I still remember the cards my classmates drew for me.

Of the thirty cards delivered to me in a paper grocery bag, I tossed all but two aside. One was from my buddy Steve and the other was from Jessica- these were the only ones that mattered. Jessica’s card had a drawing of an eagle with a get-well message. In his card, Steve sent me news that Jessica said she missed me and liked me. I was ecstatic. For the first time, I couldn’t wait to go back to school. She’s going to be my girlfriend was all I could think about while I sat at home, my body crusty with pink Calamine lotion.

I was about to find out that Jessica wasn’t quite the angel I initially thought. The day I returned from school, I approached Jessica about her comments about missing me while I was gone. “Ha ha, Steve was playing with you. I never said that,” she snickered.

“Oh,” was all I could muster before I slinked away, red from embarrassment.

Later that afternoon, our class was making trees decked with autumn leaves made of construction paper. We collected our materials and went to work. I put a large, black hole in the center of the tree, imagining a squirrel nesting there. I was proud of my idea. I even drew the squirrel into the tree branches above. No one else thought about something like that.

When I turned around to show Jessica my idea, she gave me an evil look. Instantly, as if waiting for me, she sneered, “You copied off me.”

“No, I didn’t,” I retorted, shocked by her accusation.

My jaw dropped, and before I could muster anything else to say, the words, “I’m telling Teacher” echoed in my ears, sounding slurred and surreal. She bolted to the back of the class, where the teacher sat. I watched from my desk with a pale face, mortified at the little wretch’s exaggerated gestures and counted the severe glances my teacher sent in my direction. I was about to piss my pants. My world was over. In seconds, the girl of my dreams became a vicious and vindictive snake.

Jessica skipped back to her seat with a satisfied smirk on her face. The teacher stalked to the front of the class and demanded our attention.

“Children. I want to make sure you all understand that these art projects are to be your own ideas.” Mrs. Alanson was addressing the whole class, however, her eyes never left me. “There is someone who has been cheating. Let’s all do our own work from now on.” I sat there in shock while her intimidating eyes kept me silent. The class knew that Mrs. Alanson had just branded me with the scarlet letter. I was red with injustice. I could still hear the glee Jessica’s voice as she leaned forward and whispered, “ha ha” into my ear.
 

Newyorkknicks07

Senior Member
it's a good piece, but i was waiting for some sort of point you were going to make as an adult. Or at least look back at it now that your older. Howevwer, it's a very well-written piece.
 

Eli Cash

Senior Member
I'd just like to clarify my poll vote and say that I don't actually think you should kill yourself; however, I don't think there's enough there there in your story to make for a publishable work. I didn't want to vote "Needs More Work" because I think you may be better served by chalking this one up to practice and moving on.

Stories with children as the main characters require, in my mind, truly epic surrounding events. To Kill a Mockingbird, A Wrinkle in Time, or Johnny Tremaine, for instance. Stories about little girls being mean to little boys has to have some truly remarkable happenings, or some kind of tangential connection to later events to captivate readers, I would say.
 

iceguy303

Senior Member
Thanks for the candor

I'd just like to clarify my poll vote and say that I don't actually think you should kill yourself; however, I don't think there's enough there there in your story to make for a publishable work. I didn't want to vote "Needs More Work" because I think you may be better served by chalking this one up to practice and moving on.


I want to thank you for the advice. Almost everything I have posted is part of a bigger idea. Everyone is right for commenting on the openended problems of my stories. I am afraid I wont know how to tie them up until I have enough material down. I am shooting for a novel-sized collection of essays or something like that. However, the reason why it is up here is to make sure I am not collecting a bunch of turds.

This is the posting that I have a rejection slip for. The maximum word count was 750, else I would have thought to add another segment to it.

I havent been writing long, but I am doing what I can to get better. I have started taking the requisite classes in college to become a little better, and though I have a long way to go, I wanted to thank all the people that have contributed to my postings whether it is good, bad, or neutral. Your postings make me want to write all the more. Thanks again. Didnt mean to leave hickeys on your ass.
 

iceguy303

Senior Member
it's a good piece, but i was waiting for some sort of point you were going to make as an adult. Or at least look back at it now that your older. Howevwer, it's a very well-written piece.


Thanks for the feedback. I appreciate you taking the time to read it and post.
 

Just Me

Senior Member
I think that your delivery was good but the plot itself is mediocre. I hate using the word "cliche" to describe non-fiction, but it seems to be just that: another childhood crush that wasn't returned.

I'm reluctant to cast judgement, however, without knowing the context of this piece. Is it meant to stand-alone or is it a part of a bigger collection or an anecdote that fits in somewhere else? I don't think that this is strong enough to stand on its own, but as a part of something else where it can relate to different events, it might work.
 

iceguy303

Senior Member
I think that your delivery was good but the plot itself is mediocre. I hate using the word "cliche" to describe non-fiction, but it seems to be just that: another childhood crush that wasn't returned.

I'm reluctant to cast judgement, however, without knowing the context of this piece. Is it meant to stand-alone or is it a part of a bigger collection or an anecdote that fits in somewhere else? I don't think that this is strong enough to stand on its own, but as a part of something else where it can relate to different events, it might work.


I appreciate the feedback and laud your reservations about not knowing the context. I am working on ~180 pieces vignettes to create some material to make a book. I will see what I have to work with when I am done.

Thanks for your comments and the time you spent reading it. This helps.
 
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