I was thirteen, and in the seventh grade. I was in English with my favorite teacher Mr. Hall. The principle swooped in; stole the teacher for a just a small moment and was gone. My face was in a book. 'Of Mice and Men' by John Steinbeck to be exact. How could I forget what I was doing on the worst day of my life? You know I never happened to finish that book after that.
"Marlena?" Mr. Hall whispered coming up next to me. "Yes, Mr. Hall?" I muttered looking up from my book. "Come with me." He said walking away. There was something in his eyes in that moment, but I just did not know what it was at the time. I set my book down on the desk. I followed him out the door feeling dread. Was I in trouble? Did I do something wrong? Did John tell on me for punching him in the arm at lunch? It could not be that could it? Would he dare? Could he? The walk from my desk to the door felt like the walk to my death. As I reached for the door and I looked back at all my peers who were working hard or hardly working. Then the door swallowed me out into the hallway. Mr. Hall stood there quiet and somber. He normally is loud and rambunctious in his very silly SpongeBob tie. Whatever it was that he had to say was not good, because whatever it was; was about to come out in the form of tears.
"Marlena? I-I ha- I don't know how to say this." Mr. Hall fumbled with his words. Oh crap! It must be bad! I stood there silent for the fear of making whatever it was worse. My teacher struggled as he fought to find the right words to tell me of my deep dissatisfaction to this school.
"Marlena, something very terrible has happened." He said very gruff. "Mr. Hall what ever I did I will never do it again! I Promise! Please don't suspend me!" I spit out. All the while I was unaware that Mr. Hall kept whispering my name trying to get me to stop talking. "Are you done now, Miss. Knight?" he muttered. I could not look up because I know that there are two girls just gawking at my outburst. I was too embarrassed at my own disgrace. I saw them walking past as I was rambling on and on about not getting suspended.
"Yes, Mr. Hall." I whispered as the dread slowly sank in. If he did not tell me soon, I just might explode from terror. "Marlena Your dad… Your dad is dead. I'm so sorry." He just barely whispered. And boom! My heart just imploded. "You're lying! That's not true!" I screamed. "Yes, it is sweetheart. A burning building collapsed right on top of him; while he was trying to check the building for any victims." He tried his soothing voice, but it just was not going to cut it. I started to take a step back, but I bumped into to the door behind me. Mr. Hall raised his hands trying to reach out, but now he was the enemy and I wanted nothing to do with him. I slid to the right trying to get out of his reach. I was too slow, and he grabbed my wrist. "NO! Stop! Do not! Please!" Was all I could get as I started to hyperventilate and cry. He pulled me close as I screamed in pain. This in turn only made the tears flow faster. My knees gave out and we dropped to the floor. I was unconscious to the world around me expect the very distance "Marlena its okay.", "You'll be alright.", "With time it won't hurt as much.", "I'm so sorry," From Mr. Hall. At some point the bell had rung for fourth period to end and fifth to begin. Mr. Hall did not move. He stayed there until my brother arrived.
"How is she?" Jason asked my teacher as if it had been I in a tragic accident. "Sad." Was all he replied. I could not move. I could not even talk; I was at a loss of words for once in my life. Then I was in my brother's arms. It was safe there. I do not know why I felt like Mr. Hall was such a trader, backstabber, but I did. Kids were still getting to their next class when John my best friend since pre-school came around the corner. John did not know what was going on as he saw me holding on tight to my brother. My peers walked pass obviously watching as a thirteen-year-old girl was being held like she was five all over again.
"Mar-? What's going on?" John yelled. "Oh, John there you… Come on you're coming home with us right now." Jason said walking down the hall. "What happened?' He asked tagging along; obviously happy that he does not have to go to his next three classes. I remember feeling so much agonizing pain, so incredibly mournful. John did not even know yet. I started to cry even more on the way to the car; I could not take the pain in my chest or the thought of having to hear the words 'He's dead' another time. Jason put me on the bench seat of his truck. A Ford F-150 burgundy one that our dad had helped him purchase from a small little car lot in Barstow.
"You okay Mar-?" John whispered as he climbed up next to me. I just stared uncomprehending how much pain my best friend will be in when he hears the news. Jason came around his side of the truck stopped hand on the door handle took a deep breath and opened the door. You could tell he was fighting the tears that threatened to come.
"Okay so what happened?" My best friend muttered.