Kidnapped

The school bell rang incessantly, a glorious symphony signaling the end of hell, cough, I mean school. All hell broke loose. Everyone shoved their books and worksheets in their bags and rushed out of the classroom, some even throwing books on the floor. Some students stood on tables and chairs, singing "What time is it?" from High School Musical.

"Yippee!" I yelled, raising both hands in the air. Goodbye school, hello summer! More time for gymnastics practice. But first, let me introduce myself. My name is Nicole Rose Johnson, and I'm 15. After watching the London 2012 Olympics, I was motivated to learn gymnastics. My parents couldn't afford classes, so I taught myself with YouTube videos. After a few weeks, all I could do was a forward roll, a backward roll, and a cartwheel.

I was deep in thought about new tricks when an all-too-familiar voice cut through the air. "Oi! Can u please stay away, you are blocking our damn way! GAWD." I hadn't realized I’d stopped walking. As I turned to face her, my heart skipped a beat. Alison. The high school queen bee. Before I could say anything, she shoved me, sending me tumbling. My skirt flew up, revealing my underwear to the flood of students. Laughter and wolf whistles echoed as I scrambled up, tears threatening to fall, and ran as fast as my legs could carry me. I hated Alison.

Before I could escape the hellhole, Beth, my best friend, pulled me back. "Are u okay?" she asked worriedly. I sobbed into her shoulder, recounting everything. By the time we talked on the way home, I felt better. "Nic, wanna hang out tomorrow?" she asked. "Sure," I grinned. "Library at 1?" I nodded. We said our goodbyes and headed our separate ways.