"Miss Denison, will you step up to the podium and read us your poem?" Mrs. Ivers, my English teacher called out after the last person read their poem. It was supoused to be a personal thing about how you felt, but wrote from a child's point of view.

"Do you have the assignment finnished?" she asked. She had a low voice, wore a brown pleated skirt and cardigan (with terrible clevage) with her short permed hairin a 1920's bob.

I sat in my chair and continued listening to my I-pod (Secretly), pretending that I didn't hear.

She came up to my desk and pulled the plugs on my earphones, "Denison, I know you didn't do it- so why not admit it?" She asked with a frown. I smirked back, instead of my usualy blank stare.

"Maybe I have it done." I said in a catty remark. The class of twelve gasped. I hadn't ever spoke, EVER. I was quiet on the outside, but on the inside I was loud and rockin.

She smirked back at me. "Then let's hear it." She said returning back to her desk. I huffed and grabbed my crinckled piece of paper. Once I grudgingly got to the podium, I started to read:

"Mommy are you out there?
Mommy can you hear me?
Mommy are you doing okay,
or are you barely getting by?

"Mommy are you feeling better?
Are you off the drugs and alchohol?
Did you and Daddy stick together?
Or are you still apart?

"Did you make it throuigh the night that Daddy left us alone?
Was it way too much for you too?
Was that why you put me here?"

"Mommy I don't like my room.
It's white and padded like a cell so I don't hurt myself,
but that doesn't stop me from throwing tantrums and beating my hands upon the door."

"Mommy, I miss you and Daddy.
I wish that you were here.
I dreamt that you could make me free-
But That was just a dream."

I handed it into her and sat down. People applauded and clapped. My teacher was stunned and told me to go to the principal's office. I did as I was told. When I reached the area, I sat in the fold-up grey chair and saw Mr. Vidella in his brown leather swivel chair.

"Now Charlotte-" "Charlie." I corrected him quickly.

"You seem to be a very inteligent girl. You haven't cuoperated with us, though. We are trying to teach you, to bond with you, but yet you push us away. Why do you think that is?" He asked.

Of course I knew why. I didn't want to say it, but that's exactly what everyone's been doing to me, so why not do the same?

I shook my head. He rubbed his temples. He then sighed and folded his hands on his desk. "Charlotte, I know you know why. But I don't think you know why you're here. Shall I explain?" He asked as If I were a child.

I folded my arms and gestured with one hand on his desk. "The floor is yours, Ted."

He sighed again and rested back into his chair. "Your parents- they were not the best people for you. They had a terrible influence on you. When we found you in a ball in the corner of the charred and burning building, we thought you might have gone to an extremidy, insanity, to comfort yourself. But obviously that's not the case. We are trying very hard to find tyou a legal gaurdian. And there's one that's perfect for you. Would you like to pack your things?" He finnished.

My mouth was dry and hung wide open. I swallowed and fought back tears. "Yeah, anything to get out of this Wackjob."