Driven to Distraction

In fourth grade, we were assigned book report projects. We were free to choose our own books, and I chose my favorite one at the time, James and the Giant Peach.

I spent nearly the whole week before it was do, working on a poster that was supposed to “advertise the book”, as well as writing a paragraph summarizing the reading. God, I spent so many hours slaving away on that poster, because I wanted it to be the best in the class. James Henry Trotter and that damned peach was all I concentrated on for four whole days, and I poured every fiber of my being in that one paragraph that I had to write. And on that Thursday night, I went to bed relieved and excited; I loved the way the poster had turned out. It was colorful, and eye-catching, and everything that my teacher had asked it to be.

I woke up extra early Friday morning and placed the poster on the kitchen table, wanting to show it off to my parents.

“You did an excellent job, Ketely Jewel. I’m proud of you,” my father told me before giving me a giant hug and kiss on the forehead.

My mom handed him his coffee mug and gave him a kiss on the cheek, as he was on his way out to work. “It really is a beautiful poster, honey,” she smiled as she glanced over the red board.

My older brother, Danny, came into the kitchen, still half-asleep and grumpy as could be. “Mom, I’m starving.”

“There’s cereal and milk, Danny, help yourself. I’ve got to get going, I’m already running late. Ketely, have a good day, sweetie and Danny, I expect you to be home right after school,” she stated before giving each of us a hug and a kiss.

I sat down at the table, hurrying to finish my cereal as I knew my bus would be arriving shortly. Danny plopped his bowl down and poured his cereal into it, before opening the gallon of milk. As he poured the white liquid into his bowl, a few droplets hit the table, very near to my poster and I jumped up, grabbing it.

“Watch it!” I shouted.

“I’m sorry, Ketely! Damn! It’s just a poster,” he said, rolling his eyes.

I glared at him before grabbing my book bag and walking to the door. “I’m going!”

“See ya!” he shouted.

I held the poster to my chest as I walked to my bus stop, not wanting to risk the chance of rolling it up and creating creases. When I got to the corner, I saw that Kelsi was already there, tying her shoes.

“Hey, Kels,” I smiled.

She stood up straight and smiled. “Hey, did you finish your poster?”

“Of course, look!” I held the paper away from my body, showing her my work.

“Wow,” she said, glancing it over, “that looks amazing. Mine sucks compared to yours,” she laughed.

I laughed and shook my head. “I doubt it. Let me see.”

As she was unrolling her poster board, I noticed John and two of his other friends making their way towards our stop. Seeing him only made me clutch my poster closer to my chest; I didn’t want to give him any reason to start with me.

“Hey, Morrison, finish your project?” he asked as he neared Kelsi and I.

Great.

“Yeah, I did.”

He grinned and I could see an evil glint in his eyes. “I bet mine is better.”

“I doubt it,” I scoffed.

“Let me see yours.”

“No.”

“C’mon, Ketely, just let me see,” he begged.

“No, John. Just shut up and go back to your friends,” I stated, already annoyed with him. Before I could do anything, though, he was pulling the paper away from me. “Hey! Give it back!”

He began walking away, and I chased after him. “I just want to see!” he yelled.

“Give it back! Give it back!”

He laughed as he held the board above his head, taking advantage of the fact that he was taller than me. “Wow, Morrison, you really are an over achiever.”

“Shut up and give it back before you ruin it,” I snapped.

“Oh, you want this back?” he asked, gesturing towards my poster. I nodded my head slowly, as if he were dumb. He smirked and rolled the paper up before throwing it out onto the street. “Oops!”

And before I could run to grab it, our school bus came, driving right over it. I felt my heart drop to the soles of my feet as tears clouded my eyes.

“Why – why would you do that?” I cried.

He shrugged and grabbed his backpack. “Because I can.”

Kelsi came behind me, placing her hand on my back. “I’m so sorry, K.”

I had never known that I could hate anybody as much as I hated John at that moment. Everything that I had spent the entire week working on, all of my hard work, was gone – just like that.

“I hate John Cornelius O’Callaghan,” I seethed before climbing onto the bus.

I’d never meant anything more in my life.