Losing Hope

1453 Words6 Pages
“Hopppeee,”Grace beckoned. My high school sister’s voice carried through the open screen door of our house. Even though we went to different schools, we left at the same time. My mother never trusted me to make it to my fourth grade classroom on my own, so, she left that job to my sister. In return, she got an extra dollar on her allowance each week! I am nine years old, thank you very much! There is no need to babysit me on the way to school. I know very well, not to be attracted when someone calls, “free candy,” and pulls up in a white van. Either way, mom said I have to be walked, so, there we are every day, walking, side by side, to Lincoln Elementary. But still, she is getting paid. Grace could be a bit more patient with a little weakling, like me. “Come on sis! It’s time to get to school, now!” She called again. I was about to add the line from the movie, Alice in Wonderland, “We’re late! We’re late, for a very important date!” sung by the rabbit. However, something told me that it would not have such a great turn out for me, so, the wonderful reference was locked inside my brain to use for a different time. As I bounded down the stairs, the foul stench sifting up my nostrils told me I forgot to do something. At the bottom of the stairs, I was certain of this mistake when my mother confronted me and asked me, “Open those choppers, let me see.” My mouth opened quite slowly to ensure that she understood, that Hope Goodman does not need her mom to check her teeth every morning. “Uh, uh, uhh. Looks like someone forgot to scrub these teeth in here,” my mom chastised. My face turned a bright, peachy rose and my feet swirled around on the wood floor and raced up the steep blocks of carpet. My mother shouted to my waiting sister ... ... middle of paper ... ... language! If your going to torture me thats fine, just please do it in English! “Hoolllaa!” Señora Tapia greets cheerfully. I groan, at the events playing out in front of me. My reoccurring Monday nightmare comes back to haunt me yet again. Even my dad was suspicious about her, so she looked up her name. With result, he told me that her last name means “protective wall” in Spanish. This scares me because I have absolutely no understanding of what this “protective wall” could possibly protect. It is only a definition but it leaves me with an excuse to dislike Spanish class. Meanwhile, I miss the beginning of the welcome song. Señora comes over to my desk to scold me. She doesn't seem to understand that scolding someone in another language does not have much an effect. Either way, I don’t want to let off my apparently “sassy” side and mouth the words to the song.
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