literature

Mr Stephenson

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Literature Text

The little girl looked around carefully before taking off her glasses and arranging them carefully in the middle of the brown wagon. Pushing her long wavy brown hair out of the way, she sat down facing it with her chin popped up on her elbows.
"Hello Mr. Stephenson. How are you? I'm fine, Abbey. And how have you been? Fine. I'm good. Well, would you like to come in? The wife's making some cookies, and Jeremy Anderson will come by later and play. He's a big stinky-pants. Well, I guess he is. But I would love some cookies. Of course. Come in."
"Hey dork! Talking to wagons again? Hey look, I'm Abbey, and I like to play with creepy dolls."
"Shut up Jeremy! My dolls are not creepy, you butt-face!"
"Yeah right. You're just a weirdo freak with no friends. You can't even do well in school.  All you do is make up your stupid little stories. Even you mom says you're an idiot."
"Shut up! You're just an idiot who will never understand!"
"I think I do. I think that you're the idiot! You should have never been born!"
"I WISH I WASN'T!!! The little girl shrieked, tears pouring down her face. I WISH YOU WOULD ALL JUST GO AWAY AND LEAVE ME ALONE!" She ran out of the courtyard tug going the wagon behind her.
That night, they found the little body of a girl with long brown hair and glasses, holding a mutilated wagon to her chest. In the Scraps of wood, they found a note. It said Goodbye, Mr. Stephenson in a thin, slightly wobbly script.
End
Please take note that Abbey is eight.
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Comments2
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DonShugar's avatar
nice short story, also thanks for the favs!