Previous Challenge Entry (Level 2 – Intermediate)
Topic: Illustrate the meaning of "Don't Cut off Your Nose to Spite Your Face" (without using the actual phrase or litera (02/14/08)
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TITLE: IT'S MY LIFE | Previous Challenge Entry
By charlotte Bower
02/20/08 -
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"Get to work!" the teacher's gravelly voice broke through Marissa's musings. "But I don't feel like working. If I don't feel like working I shouldn't have to. It's my life!" she defiantly thought. The teacher looked pointedly at her. She glared back. Pushing her chair back, she rocked it back on its hind legs and placed her feet on the table. The teacher angrily grabbed a pen and began writing on a form. After a few minutes she walked back to Marissa's table and held out the form. "Take this to the office, now. Until you can work at the project and show some respect you are not welcome in this class." "Fine!" Marissa let the chair slam down and snatched the form with a smirk. "The respect issue goes two ways, Bitch!" She sauntered out of the classroom causing as much disruption as she could on the way out. "I'll never go to that class again," she thought as she walked across the yard.
A year and a half later Marissa sat beside her lawyer in juvenile court. Her signature smirk was in place even though her heart was in turmoil. It was the fifth time she had been there. The judge looked at her sadly. "Marissa, I like you, but you are in contempt of court again. Your mother, the school and the court has given you every chance. I sentence you to seven days in detention to commence immediately." The gavel hit the desk as the hearing ended.
For a brief moment Marissa let down her guard as she looked pleadingly at her mother. Her mother looked old and the tears were streaming down her face. The officer reached for her arm to lead her out. "It's time to go," he said. "I'm coming. Don't touch me!" she snarled. The guard reached over and took a firmer hold as he led her out.
The clanging of the metal doors and the click of the electonic lock sounded so final. A feeling of being trapped overcoame her but she couldn't let it show. It was only for a week-or was this the first of many stays. The choice was hers.
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I was a bit shocked at the language in the first paragraph--although it's true to the character, it's problematic for your intended audience, and there are ways to suggest this kind of language without actually using it. Something to think about...
This is a good story, and well worth expanding to the full 750 words. I look forward to reading more from you.
A sad, sad tale. I appreciate the hope at the end.