A Secret

Version One

She crept into the classroom, softly closing the door behind her. Hunched over, she walked quietly to her desk, adjusting the oversized sunglasses on her face.

Removing a notebook and pen from her bag, she arranged them carefully, almost obsessively, on her desk. Smoothing her hair she adjusted it so that it fell forward, obscuring her face. She picked at the sleeves of her shirt, tugging on them, pulling them beyond her wrists, fidgeting with the fabric for some time.

When she finally stills, she primly folds her hands on her desk, staring straight ahead, and waits for the class to begin.


Version Two

She closed the door quietly, praying no one would turn and look. She knew what they said behind her back. That she did drugs, slept around. Idiots.

Sitting at her desk, she took out her notebook and pen, flicked her hair to cover her face. She arranged and rearranged the two items so that she could easily write without exposing too much. Why aren’t these sleeves longer? I should have worn the blue sweater, it covers better!  

Jesus! Get a grip!


Version Three

He watched her walk in, stealthily make her way to her desk. As she reached into her bag, her sleeve rode up, exposing a raw circular burn, obviously made by a cigar. It pained him to watch her try to cover it up. The sunglasses would go a long way to hide things, he thought, although he could see the purple tint spreading around her right eye.

He could see her resolve to soldier through, so he wouldn’t pursue it right now. But soon, he thought, I’m going to have to do something about her father.


(edited after Tasha pointed out my error - Thanks Tasha!)

Version Three – Take Two

As usual, she’s sneaking in, trying to make herself invisible. It’s no wonder, really. The other kids say cruel things about her, not even trying to keep their voices down. I don’t imagine she’s told them the truth. They probably wouldn’t believe her anyway. Can’t they see the shiner under the sunglasses? Are they blind?

That’s it, just ignore them and get your noteboo…what the…?! Is that a—that’s a cigar burn!

I’m gonna have a talk with that jerk!

The End

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