Uknown Detention

January 15, 2009
By Jake Moore, Shelbyville, IL

“Time for the bus!” my mom yelled.
I got on the bus to here Akons “Smack that” blaring. The song got interrupted by someone saying.

“Yeah, Bush only has one more year in office.”

And someone else I passed saying.

“He was horrible because he got us in this war with the Middle East.”

Honestly I didn’t think he was that bad. Then I sat down and looked out the window at the flat land covered in corn fields. Around a couple hours later I walked into reading and the look in Mrs. Miller’s eyes was eviler than normal. And she was looking at me.

“Looks like, she is going to kill you.” Someone whispered to me.
I looked at the pale body with short brown hair above the almost red eyes fixed on me. Sweat dripped from my forehead from the hot and humid jail cell of a classroom. Spat! The drop bounced of my wood and metal desk. About a half an hour later the bell was about to ring to free me from the evil glare.
I walked into Mrs. Warren’s room for school news. I felt the cool breeze from the open windows hit me in the face. It was a whole lot better then the reading room. About ten minutes into that class. Everyone looks up when they heard the knocking on the door. Mrs. Warren got up and answered the door then Mrs. Millers head came through the door and said.
“Can I see Jake and Brandy?”
My calmness got overran by nervousness. I stood up on the hard tiled floor and thought oh no. Then I toke a brave step
You could hear my shoes squeak with each step that followed. We walked out into the hall and you could fell the hotness again.
“Would you to sign these?”
Brandy just signed her detention. But I had a couple of questions before I was spending an extra hour at this place.
“What did I do?”
“You know what you did.”
“No I don’t.”
“Just sign it!”
These went on for a while. But she wouldn’t tell me what I did. So I finally just picked up the white Papermate pen with black ink and signed the dumb thing. And the thought of my mom is going to kill me keep popping in my mind like kid walking on bubble wrap as I walked back into the cool breezy room.
Bling! It's time to get back on the bus. On the way home I was trying to piece together how I was going to tell my mom but it was like a never ending puzzle. Then the big yellow bus slowly came to a stop in front of my house, it was my stop. I got of the chaotic bus and stepped into my driveway. Sweat dripped from my forehead again this time not from the heat, but from nervousness. I walked up the creaky wooden steps and through the only thing that was between me and my mom, the door. My mom wasn’t home so I picked up my LG Vu and called her.
“Hey mom.”
“I got a detention.”
“For what?”
“She wouldn’t tell me.”
“Ok I will be home in a little bit.”
So my mom wasn’t going to kill me. And the only thought going through my head was what did, I do.

Similar Articles


This article has 0 comments.


MacMillan Books

Aspiring Writer? Take Our Online Course!