The Dead Face Girl (pt 9) Original fiction by flickagirl

The Dead Face Girl, part 9, an original fiction piece by flickagirl.  (Click tag "dead face girl" for previous chapters)
Green (pt2)

I walked slowly to school that morning, and I ended up being 20 minutes late. But nobody really cared, besides Ben. Of course the little devil was in my homeroom. Why wouldn’t he be? He ran up to me saying, “Ohmygosh you were late! Why? You can’t wear hoods in school—”

He reached to pull down my hood, but my hand flew up to hold it onto my head. “I’m special.” I told him.

He was about to grump at me, I could tell, but luckily the bell rang. I grabbed my binder and walked out of the room.
I stepped out of my last class, thinking, I just have to make it to homeroom, and then I’m free.

I walked to my locker and grabbed my backpack. I stepped out into the crush of people, and let myself be pulled along. But I didn’t notice the teacher standing in the middle of the hall.

It was Mr. Jorganson, who had the annoying habit pulling off hoods and hats, without actually looking at who it was.

He grabbed my hood and yanked it off of my head.

I jumped, not expecting it. Then I clamped my hands on my head, somehow trying to hide the hair that went past the hem of my shirt. But it was impossible. People’s heads started turning, and with those heads came laughter.

I gave up on trying to hide it, and started shoving people out of the way of the nearest door. I ran outside and down the steps. I kept running. No one would miss me in homeroom. At first, I didn’t know where I was going, but eventually I realized that I was headed to Missus’s house.

But I never made it.

I started to run out of breath. I didn’t know why it happened so early, as I had only gone a couple of blocks. I sat down on the curb and cried. I don’t know why this ridicule upset me so much, it’s not like I haven’t been laughed at before. I took out the tiny blue mirror I always kept in my backpack. I don’t know why I still had it, I never used it. When you’re me, looking in the mirror isn’t exactly a fun thing to do.

But I looked. And no matter how hard I looked, it never changed.

I heard footsteps behind me. I pulled up my hood and faced whoever was coming. It was Ben.

“What… happened? He panted.

“Miss Harold is going to be mad that you left.” I said, dodging his question.

“I don’t care.” He replied. “Answer my question!”

I turned away. I barely knew Ben, so but I didn’t what him to see me like this. But I didn’t have a choice.

I pulled down my hood. Ben gasped.

“Your hair!” He said, his mouth hanging open, “It’s green!”