The Case of the Missing Report Card

I walked silently, my converse crunching on the wet sidewalk. I zipped up my jacket and took a sip of my coffee. I slowly walked towards my school when someone's shoulder slammed in to me. My coffee flew out of my hands, the lid came of as it hit the ground, spilling all over the sidewalk. I stumbled as I tried to regain my balance. I hate this small town I thought to myself. When I returned home I arrived to both of my parents sitting at the table. I looked at them with a confused look, “Ava why don't you take a seat,” Father said “we have something to tell you.” I took a seat not saying a word just giving them a confused look. “Ava honey your father got a promotion,” Mother stated “and we are going to be moving to California!” Fireworks were going off in my head thinking of all of the new things I would get to experience.

As I jotted down the answer to my geometry homework, I felt the vibrations of the floor trembling beneath my feet from the deafening screams of my parents. I continued my work, as I go uninterrupted by the daily routine argument. One day, I didn’t hear the screaming anymore, which was one of the biggest abnormalities in this household. I slunk halfway down the stairs and stretched my neck over the banister to catch a glimpse of what had happened without getting caught. The next thing I knew my older brother was standing by my side, his curiosity piqued. My mom broke the silence by peering her head around the corner of the living room, her eyes locked onto mine. As my brother and my cover were blown, we walked gingerly to the couch and sat down. I watched my mom’s stone cold face quiver out the words, “We...are....divorcing”. My face froze as if I was in a cartoon show. I tried to

I open the front door and immediately see the 20 x 30 inch portrait we had professional taken last Winter. I see Adayln’s pearly white smile, Mason’s differently colored eyes that gleam brighter than a splash of water in sunlight. Tears rush down my pale face. I walk upstairs and into Kylar’s room. I am welcomed with his scent. His favorite colon, the one from Macy’s that Dad got him on his 8th birthday. He never missed a day without it on. I go to my room and gather my most prized belongings. The blanket that all six of us made at church, the small family collision of Kylar, Mason, Adayln, and I, the beaded necklace that Mason made me for my 13th birthday, the Pandora Ring that Mommy got me when I became a teenager, and so many more prized items that I fill it three moving boxes. I am ready to leave. I walk out and see my family smiling at

I threw all of my binder and textbook into my backpack. Then, I carefully stuck in my Beats headphones into a small pouch in my backpack and grabbed my cruiser board gently in order to avoid abrading my fingertips onto the sharp, rough griptape. I walked out of the classroom and felt the breeze of fresh air hitting my body as I made my way to the stairs. I walked towards the grass field hearing my footstep change from thump noise to a more distinct crunch as I step onto the grass with my foot. I sat down crisscrossed while hearing birds chirp and the ambient sounds of college students chattering. Then, I grabbed my backpack, unzipped the main zipper, and took out my binder and pencil to write about describing peeling an

“No reason, you’re dad’s here to pick you up,” he said nonchalantly. Though I was confused, I went with it. I changed out of my uniform really quick because I was excited, I mean it was Friday and I was getting out of school early, who wouldn’t be? I had no idea what I’d be hearing in an hour or so. I met my father in the car and my older sister Ashley was there and so was my niece, Lani. It was a little quiet in the car, but since the day was a gloomy one, I figured they were just tired. I started to get a funny feeling though. My dad hates any of us kids missing school and here he was, picking us up early. Also, it was 2:15 and my niece didn’t get out of school till 3:30. These were small but significant signs that I failed to recognize then.

Smith recognized my disenchantment demeanor and raucously said, “See me after school.” I took a deep breath and in the meantime, Mr. Smith walked back to his desk and began to file away his extra papers. Within minutes I started to think about my mother’s antiphon to this. I could just easily imagine her ranting like no other, vociferating in my ears, and even kicking me out of the house for sure. I felt like I was in a maze trying to find an excuse to tell my mom, but the more I thought, the more pathways grew making it harder and harder for me to turn to the correct

Now I’m older. I’ve matured and I know the fifth grade is a simple time. The content slips in one ear and out the other. The teacher’s punishment was, relatively speaking, insignificant, but it upset me. I talked about it to my mom for weeks, as I in my youth couldn’t understand how someone could act so unkindly. I felt personally implicated in some

The aggressive slam of my door still rang loudly in my ear. I walked over to my bed, unaware of it, just trusting my body to guide me wherever I needed to be. I can’t believe I said those words. I can’t believe she said that to me, I thought to myself as my hands unconsciously reached for a duffel bag on my desk and started filling it with clothes and small snacks. As the multitude of crude insults my mother had said to me still filled my mind, I went for the door and opened it again, hands trembling as to what was waiting for me on the other side. I turned the knob and crept down the empty staircase, quiet as a mouse. Finally making it through the living room and into the kitchen, I reached for the back door when all the lights flashed on.

Next morning I get ready and I’m determined to confront him. I run downstairs and go out the door. I run to the school and turn the corner. There he is! As I walk up I try to study his mind and thoughts. All I hear is a slight hum. This happens rarely. Some people can block their thoughts. Cautiously I ask, “Who are you?” Then quietly he answers, “Your father.”

I hopped along the cracked path towards the house. When reaching the front lawn my feet struggled to wade through a jungle of plants. But soon enough they were free and the front door greeted me with peeling paint fingers, I twisted the handle but it wouldn’t budge. My knuckles pounded on the door “Gus!” I yelled at the top of my lungs. Tapping my foot while waiting for a response. Then heavy footsteps approached the door and the handle twisted, opening the door to reveal my dad towering above me. His eyes were distant and his face was pale and drooping. He wore the same tattered black shirt he always wore. “Hello Lars” he said in a deep raspy voice. “Hi dad” my voice squeaked in comparison. I quickly scurried past him towards the kitchen

I could sense the cold hard stare of the office administrator behind me like needles poking into my back. I sat as I thought to myself, What could I have done better? I regretted the choice I had made. Why did I do it? Maybe it was better to show my dad my 60% math test than to be sitting in the office waiting to be handed my death sentence. I shouldn’t have done it. I had forged my dad’s signature to escape from being grounded. I waited as I listened to the principal talking on the phone to my dad telling him the bad news. I wanted to scream that it was untrue, but I knew it was.

The last time I saw my father was the first time I broke the rules. Although I was almost 16 years old, I never dared to disobey my dad’s strict laws he had laid down once my mother disappeared. I never slept at a friend’s house, never attended a party, and always brought nutritious lunches to school; however, good girls can’t be good forever. I had been devising my plans for weeks and finally felt ready to escape the bubble my dad trapped me in. Now that I think about it, I might’ve needed to run away from myself, not my dad. Nevertheless, at 5:00 am, a whole hour before my father usually awoke, my alarm clock started belting out Rhythm of Love by Plain White T’s which coincidentally is my favorite song. I thought that was a definite

I threw my books on the bed, but i didn’t see the leather jacket I expected to see, i saw a guacamole colored jacket laying on my bed, i approached the jacket slowly and as I sit down looking at the ugly jacket, I heard my mom yelling up to me “your jacket is in the closet.”

“JOHN DANIEL LEONARD GET YOUR LAZY BUTT UP OFF YOUR BED!!!” yelled my Mom. As I woke up in a start my bed felt like a cloud that I just wanted to stay in forever. As I finally got myself off of bed I tripped over my backpack. “Just my luck,” I sighed to myself as I went over to my dresser only to find that there was no clothes in it. “Of course” I muttered to myself, just then the door swung open and my mom threw me a fresh pair of clothes.

I walked out with a pink slip in my hand reading “Urgent to Ms. Conklin’s parents call school when received”. I had gotten home to show my mom the slip and she was instantly confused. She informed me that it would be best if she just went to the school the next morning to clear things up. It was no reading that night for me. All I could think was if this is where reading gets me then I don’t want to do it anymore. The next morning was whirlwind. My mother, Ms. Chui and Mrs. Garrison all stated the facts to Mr. Brooks the principal that on many occasions they have seen me reading various books. Whether it had been short stories or chapter had not