Not feeling great today so instead of slogging over something that's going to come out below par I thought I would instead show you guys the short story I was slaving over over the Christmas holidays for my first Uni module :) It's still got no title, so if anyone has any ideas let me know!
You know I never really realised I was tall until I started school. Compared to my brothers I might as well have been a hobbit (though thankfully without the hairy feet ick!). They all tower over me, even now I’m at the grand heights of 5’11; I still have to look up to swear at them, Robert is 6’6 now! It gets most annoying when he and the other six keep patting me on the head and calling me ‘shortcake’.
I’m still the tallest girl in my year though; a trait that comes in very handy at times. Take the other day for example. I was stood in the lunch queue at school and due to being a good head over my peers I could see that the chicken dish of the day looked frankly fowl. I couldn’t help but giggle at my own nerdy little joke when suddenly my knees buckled and I fell to the floor with a crash. One of the horrid school lunch trays had been launched into the back of my knees sending me flying. It was probably the giggling that caused Imelda to do it. She hates to see anyone being happy, ah poor Imelda Strongbottom (a very unfortunate surname, I’m sure it’s what makes her so darn unpleasant). With as much dignity as it was possible to have clambering off the dining hall floor I stood up carefully to see Imelda giving me the classic ‘innocent’ look.
‘What you looking at Lanky?’ she asked in butter wouldn’t melt voice as a dinner lady wandered past straightening the line of queuing students. Not wishing to debase myself to Imelda’s level I simply said ‘The Fowl’ and strutted off to order the pasta and head outside safe in the knowledge I was the better person, for today anyway.
See that’s what school is like for me; just one battle after another, some big, some small and some of great moral importance. After I have purchased my lunch most days I would head to my spot, smack bang underneath the oak tree overlooking the playground. On the day of the fowl incident it was lovely and sunny, far too hot for blazers. I wedged my satchel and pasta pot between the roots of the tree and immediately shrugged off the polyester monstrosity that is my blazer. I mean its bright orange! It’s Halloween every day in my school! I kicked off my shoes and removed the orange socks, freeing my toes to wiggle in the sunshine; now I didn’t look too bad, my black blouse looks ok on me and sits well on what little boobs I actually posses. I tried and failed to not mess up my hair as I slipped off the black and orange stripped tie (who chose our school colours honestly!). But the skirt! I’d remove that too (I wear my PE shorts underneath it; I fall over a lot!) but I knew I was going to be in enough trouble once Mrs Haskins spotted me; it was actually a new personal best for her that day, three mins twenty seconds. I had only just removed my book mark which I love to pieces (mum bought it for me its got all these nice pictures of the Greek goddess I am named after on it) from my well thumbed copy of ‘A vindication of the rights of women’ by Mary Wollstonecraft when I heard the over familiar shriek of
“Dianna Baxter put your uniform back to rights this instant!’
Sighing I reached for my socks. Same battle five days a week but only a small part of my true battle. I mean can you believe it’s the 21st century and I’m still forced to wear a skirt to school. I tried to explain to Mr Pierce but I don’t think he got it.
“Blatant sexism!” I screamed at Mr Pierce on my second day at school after I got told off for wearing trousers.
“School rules” he shot back.
“Why are you trying to sexualise me? I should have the same rights as the boys and that includes wearing trousers to lessons!” I huffed hands on my hips, doing my best impression of mum’s ‘you will do what I want’ glare.
“I am not and I will repeat that Miss Baxter not trying to sexualise you, but in my school young ladies will dress and act as according to their title of ‘ladies’”
“CHAUVANIST!”
“Detention”
My brothers found it hilarious.
“You tried to take on Piercey?” chortled Ben who is in the year above me “All the power to ya sis but you don’t have a hope in hell”. Oh how wrong he was.
It may have taken me a severe amount of bribery and a heck of a load of chores to put it into action but my plan finally came together. I felt like a criminal mastermind that morning at breakfast ordering my brothers about. Ben just sat scowling at his toast muttering about gross indecency, Robert couldn’t find his car keys and the others (all five of them) were being fussed over by mother who seemed most confused.
“Erm it’s for breast cancer mum, a charity thing you know” I said hoping that she would believe me. She just cocked an eye brow and threw Roberts car keys at him. For some reason they had been hanging off my cat Pankhurst’s tail.
As me and my brothers got out the car and walked towards the school gates, every head turned to stare at us, I spotted Imelda quickly. She was stood not far from the tall school gates and it was too my delight when she turned and her jaw dropped. I guess we were quite a sight. Me in my new school trousers, and my brothers, well my brothers in my old school skirts. They were all a bit uncomfortable, after all these were my old skirts, so there was quite a lot of hairy man leg on display, but they couldn’t back out then, it was far too late.
Someone had gone running to the office obviously startled at our unusual code of dress because very quickly Mr Pierce and Mrs Haskins turned up at the gates looking very out of breath.
“Miss Baxter what do you think you’re playing at! Return home and get into your correct uniform this instant!, I can believe you have dragged your brothers into your childish tirade” called Mrs Haskins looking very cross.
“We are making a stand, against your sexist rules; you know there is no rule against the boys wearing skirts so why can’t I wear trousers huh?” I called across what was left of the car park, which wasn’t much we were now level with Imelda who was so close to us her jaw which was still hanging open was practically leaning on my shoulder.
Mrs Haskins was slowly getting redder and redder like her head was about to explode, obviously it did not help that it looked like Mr Pierce was trying very hard not to laugh.
Suddenly Imelda snapped out of her stunned stupor and quickly straightened her expression into a sneer.
“I always knew your brothers were a load of trannies”. That was a very bad move on her part. I really couldn’t help it she really was asking for it. It was totally not my fault when my fist collided with her face. It did however stop Mr Pierce from giggling for then at least.
“I think detention is in order Miss Baxter...” he said
“But..” I started to interrupt, but Mr Pierce put his hand up effectively silencing me
“And for you Miss Strongbottom there is no need for such language. On the subject of uniform I really give up arguing with you Dianna; you are surely one of the most stubborn girls I have ever met. You can wear your trousers but I don’t want one more peep out of you until you graduate, you hear?”
I was soo happy I felt like jumping about and screaming but I’m pretty sure that would be classified as a peep. Instead I primly nodded before turning and high fiving all my brothers who were already getting their trousers out their bags.
I did it! I had finally won! That was so worth the detention!
