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A Short Story : The Story Of The Story

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“Violet!” Violet’s mother called. Violet continued bobbing her head to the music coming from her headphones. She continuously flipped through the pages of her book, finding the story uninteresting. “Violet!” Her mother called again but loud enough for her to hear. This time, Violet had heard her mother's calling and groaned in annoyance. Sitting up on her bed, she heaves a sigh. She was a dreading for the conversation with her parents. With another groan, she took off her headphones, leaving her long black hair frizzy. She rushed downstairs to find her mother and father sitting on the couch in the middle of the living room. Both of their arms were crossed and she could feel something stir. She knew something was going to happen between her parents and herself. She braced for an argument coming straight for her. She tugged on her light gray sweatshirt.
“Yes,” She squeaked. “you called me?” Her mother's face looked like she was strained.
“Violet, we got a call from your teacher,” Mother began.
“Well, which one? I have six,” Violet asks as she sits down on the opposite chair across from where her parents were sitting. She wanted anything than to sit beside them.
“All of them, actually. They've been informing us that you have been skipping your classes,” Her father announced. She found that his face wasn't strained. It was anger and concern. “Turns out, you've been doing it for most of the year!”
“And,” She began. “it's not like I've been failing my classes. I've
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