Age:
Middle School, Late Elementary
Reading Level: 4.7
Chapter One
Annabelle was seated motionless on the school's swing. Her green eyes peered out from behind the safety of her sunglasses. She quietly watched as the popular kids in her class sat under the leaves of the old maple tree to discuss summer plans. She didn't have to strain to hear their giggles and lively chatter; she also didn't have to guess the topic.
Hamilton School's seventh grade girls spent today's recess talking about summer camps, family trips, and sleepovers. Annabelle sat alone. Biting her quivering lip to fight back tears, she thought about her own summer break. She knew her days wouldn't consist of playing on hot sunny beaches or talking late into the night at sleepovers.
Annabelle was the daughter of a pickle farmer. Her family tree included three generations of cucumber farmers that grew and sold baby cucumbers to the local pickle company. Annabelle knew summer break meant working all day in the sun-baked fields of her family's pickle farm. She would help to harvest the tiny two-inch cucumbers that the farmers called "pickles."
Annabelle knew that pickles of this size would develop rapidly and need to be picked every other day. Shifting her eyes down to her soft hands, she remembered how those small cucumbers had sharp points that would prick her small, delicate fingers, leaving them calloused and ugly.
When school started, her hands looked like her father's. It took the entire school year, but her hands finally began to look like they belonged to her. Pink nail polish topped her nails again.
There would be no camps or trips to talk about with her classmates. There would just be millions of little prickly pickles to pick all summer long.
I must be the only kid on earth who dreads summer, she thought.
Secretly, she didn't know which she disliked more: school or pickle farming. They were both difficult for her. She couldn't wait to finish school, but she also dreaded the start of pickle season.
Oh well, there's nothing I can do to change my summer, Annabelle thought. This is my life.
With her attention focused on the giggling under the tree, Annabelle hadn't even noticed how the afternoon breeze was now encouraging her swing to move back and forth.
Annabelle grabbed the metal chains holding her swing and leaned back. She pointed her rainbow-colored tennis shoes towards the sky. Her wavy blonde hair almost touched the hardened dirt. She closed her eyes and let her imagination take her away from thoughts of prickly pickles. I'll think about being an acrobat. She smiled and let herself swing almost upside down as her fantasy of flying took her to a happier place.
Annabelle's favorite pastime was swinging upside down. She had attempted to swing from just about any place—swing sets, monkey bars, and even tree branches. Once, when she went with her family to the local library, she tried to hang upside down on the library's handrail.
She couldn't explain why she loved to swing upside down . . . she just knew she was happiest when she was doing it.
Anabelle had been swinging contentedly for a few moments when a sudden thought snapped her back to reality. Her eyes sprang open, her legs flew to the ground, and a look of terror came over her face. The SPELLING TEST was after recess! She had almost completely forgotten about it.
Spelling was Annabelle's least favorite subject. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn't seem to sound out words correctly. She had studied very hard last night. She had practiced over and over as she did before every spelling test, but she knew in her gut it wouldn't matter. She would still get a big, red "F".
"It feels like the only world I can spell is failed. I've sure seen it enough," she groaned.
As if taking the test wasn't torture enough, Annabelle's teacher, Miss Dunkin, always asked the students to pass their test to the person sitting on their right for grading. Annabelle had the unfortunate luck to have the smartest boy in her class, Jack, seated to her right. Not only was he the smartest boy, he also had the biggest mouth. He always told everyone Annabelle's score. She knew that today wouldn't be any different.
Chapter Two
As the recess bell echoed throughout the playground, Annabelle felt the impending doom of another failure. There was no escape. She headed back to class at a snail's pace.
I spent extra time last night studying, so maybe this test won't be so bad.
With a glimmer of hope and a sigh, Annabelle sat down at her desk. She put away her sunglasses and pulled out a piece of paper and pencil. She tried to appear confident as she prepared herself for the dreaded exam.
"Ok, class," said Miss Dunkin. "I hope everyone had fun during recess because it's time for our weekly spelling test."
The class grumbled as Miss Dunkin picked up the list of words. "I know everyone studied hard, so please take out your paper and pencil."
Miss Dunkin faced her class and read off the first spelling word. Annabelle knew her doom was no longer just impending . . . it was here. "Your first word is disappeared. As in, the jump rope has disappeared from our classroom."
Annabelle struggled to spell the word. She wished she could disappear. She tried hard to sound it out: D-I-S-P-E-R. It didn't look right, but she wrote it down anyway.
Miss Dunkin walked through the aisles of desks as she gave the next word. "Imagine," she said. "I can't imagine life without trees."
Annabelle struggled to spell the word: E-M-A-G-I-N. Again, she felt it was wrong, but she didn't know how to go about correcting it.
Imagine a life without another spelling test, Annabelle thought. There was no point wishing for a world without spelling tests.
Annabelle struggled through the entire test. When the test was over, Miss Dunkin asked everyone to pass his or her test to the right. As Annabelle handed her test to Jack, she hoped maybe this time it would be different.
Her hopes were instantly smashed when Jack flashed his evil smile. He picked up his red marker and said, "Miss Dunkin, is disappeared ever spelled D-I-S-P-E-R?" The entire class began to snicker and giggle. Annabelle hunched down. She wished she could fade into the floor.
"Now, Jack," said Miss Dunkin, "how many times have I asked you not to call out in class? I'll give you the correct spelling of each word. You are to mark wrong answers. You don't need to add any comments."
Jack smiled smugly and made a check mark in the air with his red marker.
Miss Dunkin said, "Let's begin."
The rest of the afternoon didn't go any better for Annabelle. As she struggled with her social studies assignment, Annabelle couldn't help but notice how her classmates seemed to breeze through their work. They even had time for a lively discussion about who finished first.
Annabelle returned her attention to her badly scribbled answers. She flipped her pencil over and began erasing another misspelled answer.
As she blew away eraser pieces, she muttered a sound of hopeless defeat. She started to try again, but the dismissal bell interrupted her.
A slight smile appeared on Annabelle's mouth. Oh, how she loved the sound of that wonderful bell. Finally, after feeling like a total failure, this horrible day had ended. Annabelle scrambled to finish her last question and clean up her desk. She snatched up her pink and purple backpack and ran for the door. Her timid smile broadened, almost reaching her green eyes. Only a few more steps and she would be free.
Chapter Three
"Annabelle, can you wait a minute, please?"
When Annabelle heard those words, she knew what was coming. Her teacher wanted to talk about her spelling test. The smile vanished as quickly as it had come.
"Yes, Miss Dunkin," was all Annabelle could say. She slowly turned away from freedom and back to the dreaded classroom.
Miss Dunkin was smiling, standing between her heavy oak desk and the chalk-stained blackboard. She held out Annabelle's latest spelling test. "I know you can do better than this with your spelling," she said. "I don't understand why your scores haven't improved like everyone else's. I've decided to give you another list of words to study this weekend. On Monday, I'll test you during recess. I just know that with a little more work on your part, you can improve."
Miss Dunkin smiled as she handed Annabelle a new list of words. "See you Monday, Annabelle. Make sure you study those new spelling words this weekend." Miss Dunkin was still smiling as she turned and walked out into the hall.
Stunned, Annabelle stood in the empty classroom staring at the list of new spelling words. She could hear the buses leaving the school parking lot—she'd have to walk home. An overwhelming hopelessness filled her while tears of shame ran down her cheeks. She quickly wiped them away. She lost no time in escaping the school and hurrying toward freedom.