The Gunk Comes Back to Haunt Us

Ok, so I have already told you that I have a best friend called Christina Drawn, an anorexic Science teacher and a serious clumsy problem. But, I didn't tell you that my name is Diana Miller, and I have chestnut brown hair, what some people call 'intense' brown eyes and your average 11-year-old girl's body.

My school is St. Anne's Secondary school. I walked out of Science with Christina and our other friend, Ella Resteraunte-Flattuer. Her mother is German and her father is French (hence the complex double barrelled surname). 

As we meandered down the corridor, the village idiot (not that this is a village or anything) Jamie (who cares about last names?) called after us, "Tut, tut! You were talking in class!". 

"Just ignore him." I told my friends, admitidly through gritted teeth. As he ran stupidly down the corridor, deliberately banging into every door he came accross in his failed attempt to impress us, I noticed something odd dripping down the stairs. Ella was the first to mention it.

"Isn't that the same gross stuff Miss Little was drinking earlier?" she asked, a look of disgust on her face.

"It looks like it." Christina agreed. Then, I spotted a toothpick walking down the stairs, trailing the fluorescent green gunk behind it. No, sorry, my mistake, it was Miss Little. "Miss! You dropped this!" I called after her. When she saw us, she said,

"Thank you children. I shall clear this up right away!". But she said it with a dangerous edge to her voice, like a knife. As she cleared up her slime, my mind began working overtime with ideas. Could it be true? Could my teacher really be and alien? 

"Come on guys, lets get to lunch." I told my friends. Despite the fact that none of us had an appetite, they followed, as we cautiously picked our way down the stairs, being careful to avoid the slime trail.

The End

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