One Shot #4 - Quickie

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One thing she had to admit that she didn't expect any of this. It was something she had never thought would happen. This thing was awful. Quite horrible. It wasn't a joke. So now, her back against a concrete wall, with her blouse torn and a red runny nose, she began to think; what had she expected for today?

   That was easy. She had expected her Mom to be happier. She had expected her campaign manager would be nice to her; she though he had understood. She had expected to win the elections for class President and immediately become more popular than she already was. She had expected to return home safely and gush about her victory.

   But none of that had happened. Everything went horribly wrong, and then she had made it worse. And now this was the worst thing of all. She was dirty. She was scared...and confused. The sun was burning her brain and she didn't know what to do. She could imagine her pupils slowly shrinking, while she remained quiet, barely breathing. At least that meant her irises were showing more. Everyone did love their hazel colour.

   She finally took it upon herself to shrink down into a sitting position, her knees touching her chin. Shoving her face into her knees, which were being thoroughly supported by her arms, she made quick movements with her mouth. She daren't breath properly, or else they might have heard.

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