Emotionally scarred

She had left us with very simple instructions: complete the class work in relative silence while she talked to the teacher next door.  I had no problem with this; I had always been the good child, the one who follows all directions and never got in trouble.  Until this day, when I saw the cockroach. 

It was in the corner of the carpet and caught my eye as I let my eyes wonder from my book.  I screamed. Loudly. Tr. Dianna came running in, expecting to see a student dead or dying. When she realized that I had made such a commotion over a bug, a dead one at that, she decided to teach me a lesson.  Instead of simply giving me a detention, she crafted a more creative punishment.

The next day, I came to her room with a pencil and sheet of paper as she had instructed. She then placed the dead cockroach on the table in front of me and told me to draw it in detail. I spent 15 minutes dissecting the bug with my eyes. I have never been so disgusted in my life. 

Comments