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State of Shock (standard:adventure, 10954 words)
Author: methane propaloptatrineAdded: Nov 06 2001Views/Reads: 3478/2844Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)
4 kids have a very hectic few weeks because of a mysterious stalker...

It was Friday and we couldn't wait to get out of school. Phil, Eddie,
Grip and I were supposed to meet up at the bus stop by Greg's house. He 
was having one of his party's. Greg was rich and he loved to rub it in. 
He would have parties at his house almost every Friday. We only came to 
few of them. Today, we had nothing better to do, so we all just decided 
to go. Besides, I think Jessica was going to be there. I'll tell you 
about her later. It was 2:55. We only had five minutes left, but it 
seemed like an eternity. I was just watching the second hand on the 
clock go around and around, listening to Mr. Clapse's nasally drone. He 
was saying something about x and y, but I couldn't care less. He looked 
over at me asked me what the root was. "The root is, well you have to 
take the number and--" Riiiiing! Whoa. I got lucky. Mr. Steven rolled 
his eyes, and I got my butt out of that room.  I swear I couldn't have 
told you the answer to that question for a million dollars. Today I was 
glad to run out of there, but normally I wouldn't be. Everyday, Mr. 
Claspe would teach and teach us, trying to make some sort of difference 
in our lives in his day's lessons. Everyday we would run out of there, 
dreading the next day. I know that that is just what kids do, but it 
seemed to eat away at him inside. But, then again, he did come in 
everyday. He must have been reaching someone, because he surly didn't 
come in for the paycheck. He never really got angry with anybody, and 
he never threatened to quit all the time, like Ms. Stevens. Ms. Stevens 
was always telling us not to be surprised if she didn't come in 
tomorrow. We always that hoped that she wouldn't come in, but, sadly, 
it was always an empty threat. In all the millions of years that she 
had been teaching at my school, I think that she had taken only one 
sick day or something. She had one of those pristine records that 
nobody could defy. The fact that she was so old helped. I don't think 
that any of the other teachers could have lived long enough to be 
teaching as much Ms. Stevens. She was the biggest spazz you have ever 
seen. I think that she hated every last one of us, even Jeff Greene, 
who was every other teacher's pet. Whenever anyone moved a muscle, she 
would tell him or her to stop squirming. If you talked out of turn, she 
would yell at you. Her favorite thing to do was to yell at you even if 
you were talking in turn. She would call on you and ask a question 
like, "Richard, what is the capital of North Dakota?" and I would say, 
"Um, Bismarck?", and she would say, "Richard Harris, you will speak 
when spoken to! Now will someone please tell me the capital of North 
Dakota! I swear I don't even know why I come here anymore. If I'm not 
here tomorrow, don't come looking for me." Oh, you won't have to worry 
about that, Mrs. Stevens. Another one of her trademarks was to call out 
the wrong name when she was yelling at someone. Mike could throw a 
paper ball, and she would yell at Phil, and then have that nasty 
"teacher grudge" that some teachers seem to have for the rest of the 
day after they have yelled at someone. Phil loved the teacher grudge. 
He hated school, and was all about the anarchy/insubordination thing. 
He loved to get a teacher pissed of in the morning, so they would be 
keeping their eye on him all day. Every time they saw him, he would do 
something to provoke them. It would be something like raising his 
voice, or dropping all his books, or talking about how it would suck to 
be old. It was always something that would get the teacher mad, but 
that the teacher couldn't do anything about. Grip liked to skateboard 
and snowboard and ski, and all that good stuff. He hung out with the 
skateboarders, but mostly with us. As for me, I don't know. I did a 
little skateboarding, and all of us would piss of a teacher every now 
and then. I didn't really have any sort of stereotypical identity. I'm 
glad I didn't have one. A lot of people stayed away from Phil, and 
whenever someone approached Grip, they would just start babbling about 
skateboarding. But with me, nobody knew what to expect, and they 
couldn't tell what I was like until they actually sat down to meet me. 
I liked that. The three of us--Grip, Phil, and I--all knew each other 
for a long time, since pre-school. We have known Eddie for about a 
year, and we still haven't quite figured him out. Grip met Eddie in 7th 
grade. He was always sort of quiet. Grip and Eddie were like two of 
those kinds of people that you only see in TV shows. Grip was the 
talker, and Eddie would always whisper something into Grip's ear when 
he wanted to say something, and Grip would say it. I always thought 
that maybe talked his head off when he wasn't around us, but I never 
saw him do it. Anyway, we were supposed to meet at the bus stop by 
Greg's house. Phil and I live next door to each other, so we went on 
the bus together. Grip lived about 2 miles away, so he got on a 
different bus. Eddie never told us where he lived. Phil and I got off 
the bus, and we saw Eddie waiting for us. He was sitting on a bench, 
reading an E-Book. An E-Book! He loved that stupid Palm Pilot of his. A 
minute later, Grip showed up. He said hi and sat down on the bench next 

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