Bettered my ability to tell right and wrong
          Extinguished every thought of cheating
               Saved myself a lot of trouble
          Found the risk was never worth it
From an early age I have loved to read. Every book pulls you into a different world. A different mindset.
Percy Jackson and the Olympians: Quests to save Greek demigods
Crank: Drugs take over a girl’s life
13 Reasons Why: The butterfly effect leads a girl to suicide
When I did it, the act seemed worlds away. The complete immorality of it all didn’t hit me until I was given a referral by the principal, while tears streaming down my face.
In third grade I was one of THOSE kids. Straight-A student. Teacher’s pet. Above average. My school had a reading program called Accelerated Reader (AR). After finishing a book, you would take a quiz on it. Depending on your score and the books difficulty, you would receive a certain amount of points. At the end of the month, you had to reach a goal assigned to you. If you reached your goal, you’d get full credit. My friends hadn’t reached their goal that month, and were looking for a way to earn easy points. Their well put together plan was to search vague topics that everyone knew pretty well, and take a quiz on the first book that came up. They asked me if I wanted to join. Shyly, I glanced down at my white shoes, hoping to see them untied so I’d have something to do. I was out of luck. My decline started to roll off my tongue.
“See! Told you she wouldn’t do it. She’s gonna go tell the teacher now,” my mortal enemy said, sing-song like.
Before I could stop myself, an agreement flew out of my mouth.
After a few minutes, it actually became fun. We all huddled around a jet black computer. Each question queued a series of guesses. It reminded me of a trivia game I used to play with my sister. At the moment, the words ‘consequence’ and ‘trouble’ were drowned out by everyone’s cheers as check mark after check mark appeared on the screen.
Our “trivia game” spread through the grade like the black plague. By the end of the week, over half the grade had taken the quiz. Despite popular belief, the principal wasn’t a complete idiot. She was able to put two and two together.
The principal wasn’t the nicest person. As a result, we weren’t the nicest people to her.
Possessed by the devil
Radiated hatred
Indicated we were idiots
Never kind
Cold eyes
Implanted fear into our hearts
Pure evil
A black stone sat in the position of her heart
Loved the sight of misery
“If you hear your name, please come to the office after school,” the intercom boomed.
My name, and the other name of over half of my grade were called. Naturally, I had already forgotten about the AR test scandal. Third graders don’t have the best memory. With my group of friends, I drifted in the direction of the office. The first thing I saw was a line of kids sitting on the ice cold floor, alphabetically. I took my spot in line and slithered down, onto the tile floor. I was the second to last person in line.
I watched each child accompanied by not so happy parents enter the office one at a time. As they left, there was nothing but anger and fear fixed to each face.
“This can’t be good...” I thought to myself.
Before I knew it thirty minutes had passed. Then an hour. Then two. There was just one person between me and the principal’s torture. I gave the girl a reassuring pat on the back but it didn’t help. She came out sobbing, followed by parents with twisted faces. Another one of the principal’s masterpieces. Now it was my turn. I turned the corner and squeezed the doorknob. Slowly, I pushed the black door open. I was able to make out two people in the room. As the door swung farther open, the figures became clear. One was the principal, and the other was my mom.
My tactic was to stay calm and collected. There was no way I would let her get to me. I calmly strolled to an empty chair and let out a small sigh as I slid into it.
Everything is okay.
I repeated that phrase in my head, calmly and slowly, until it was just a small collection of words without meaning. But, it helped keep my painted mask intact.
After what seemed like hours of paper shuffling, the principal eventually spoke. I wished she had kept her mouth shut. Her voice, crackled and painful, sounded like fingernails on a chalkboard.
“Would you like to explain to your mother why we’re here?”
Clearly, I wasn’t as resilient as I though. My mask was already beginning to drip. The principal noticed my change in facial expression. Once she identified it as worry, her facial expression began to change as well. Piercing me, her eyes looked straight into mine and the corners of her mouth turned up slightly. But only long enough for me to acknowledge it. Burning rage boiled deep in the pit of my stomach. I could feel it climbing up my throat, forming a condensed ball. She turned her attention back to my mother.
“Your daughter has cheated on a quiz.”
I started to counter with “I didn’t-”
But at that moment it hit me. I did cheat. It might not have been very serious, but I’d still committed the crime. The condensed ball or rage in my throat transformed into regret. Hot tears washed away the last of my mask. To top it all off, the principal handed my mother a referral. She shifted her eyes, dark yet sparkling, back to me.
“Maybe next time you want to cheat, you’ll remember the consequences of it all.”
I ripped my eyes from hers to keep my anger at bay. I ordered myself to stop crying. My feet automatically planted themselves firmly onto the floor. Synchronized, my mom and I stood up. Gradually, I made my way to the door. After my mom left the room, I held the door opened and turned my torso to face the principal.
“Everyone was right about you,” I whispered, hardly loud enough for her to hear.
As I turned the corner and headed back down the hallway, I plastered on my biggest and fakest biggest smile to present to my friend. The last person. While he stood for his turn with the monster, I gave him a quiet good luck.
A huge sigh escaped my lungs as I stepped out of the school building. Finally free. But I wasn’t as free as I thought I was. She began lecturing me as soon as we got into the car. She continued when we arrived home for a good two hours. Everyone has a breaking point, and when I hit mine my legs moved at a hundred miles an hour to my room. In record time, I had reached my room and locked it. Ignoring the pounding on the door, I grabbed one of my favorite books, The Watsons Go to Birmingham, and re-read it for the millionth time. I longed to be teleported in the world of Kenneth, the protagonist, and out of mine. My eyes began to get droopy. As I finished the last page of the book, I fell asleep with Kenneth’s whole world cradled in my arms.
The next morning, I was headed to school. My constant groveling had only angered my mother. Her voice, calm and dangerous, yanked me out of bed. I gradually got ready, making sure to take as long as possible. But, my attempts were a complete failure. I got to the kitchen table right on time. My mom ushered me to the car, and drove me back to the witch’s layer; school.
The day, started off normally. We learned the same boring subjects, saw the same boring teachers, and worked on the same boring projects. Then the bell rang. It was lunch time. Everyone’s favorite subject. Students swarmed into the stuffy cafeteria. I navigated my way to a seat with my friends. Instantly, they began talking about the day before. I agreed with their every insult about the principal and laughed at every quip. But as soon as they said it wasn’t a big deal, I completely disagreed.
“She was really mean, but she did the right thing. How many of you will ever cheat again without thinking twice?”
Not a single person argued. We’d been impulsive once before, and that gotten us into a deep hole. Even a third grader knows not to repeat mistakes. I snatched my white lunch box off the table, and headed back to class, ten minutes early.
My day ended bizarrely. I saw the principal strutting down the hallway. Hastily, I scanned the plain white hallway, looking for a way out of the confrontation. When my search came back empty, my next plan was to walk as quickly as possible, and avoid eye contact. As I passed the principal, the strangest thing happened to her expression. She smiled. Not her usual evil, twisted smile she wore religiously, but a genuine one. And to my surprise, I smiled back.