Short Story by Alyssa Maurer, Grade 9
Mrs. Engall was supposed to be the strict, overbearing headmistress of her medieval-style boarding school. She was supposed to reflect the cold, stone walls of her domain, and see to it that her students were delivered boring but beneficial lessons and unpleasant punishments. She was supposed to realize their fears. But Mrs. Engall did none of those things. Her cat, Champagne--who was nowhere near the color of champagne--did all those things for her.
Mrs. Engall was not quite old, yet her middle-aged skin was etched with the wrinkles of stress. The stress, however, was useless, but Mrs. Engall insisted on being needlessly afraid, worthlessly antisocial, and unnecessarily libel to snap at any moment. She hardly ever left her office, therefore when a student was being mischievous, Champagne would simply pierce his or her skin with her unusually sharp claws.
When Evelyn Cluffersnap arrived at Mrs. Engall's boarding school, promptly named the Upside of Downside Educational Instruction and Living Quarters, she found the whole situation rather odd. You see, even if her mother had been a fairly strange individual (she had been imprisoned for disorderly conduct at a taxidermy supply company protesting dead animal rights) and her father had been a relatively out of the ordinary person (he had accidentally plunged his car into an ocean and drowned while driving blindfolded), they had at least left the confines of their home. Mrs. Engall rarely left her office, let alone the top floor of the castle-like boarding school that she occupied. After a week of school without seeing the headmistress once, Evelyn decided to go see her, and she brought a lovely basket of fruit to give her as well. But when she arrived at her closed office door, knocked, and, when there was no answer, tried to turn the doorknob, she found that it was undeniably locked.
"Mrs. Engall?" she asked tentatively, in her squeaky, high-pitched voice. "Are you in there?" Evelyn gasped when a wide eye appeared at the keyhole of the knob.
"What do you want?" said Mrs. Engall in a quick, nervous voice.
"I've brought you some fruit," replied Evelyn.
"Well, slide whatever you've got under the door. I don't have time for visitors."
"I don't think this basket will fit under the door, Mrs. Engall." There was a moment of silence in which the smile that had been gracing Evelyn's face turned to a slight frown. Suddenly...
"I SAID I DON'T HAVE TIME FOR VISITORS!" roared Mrs. Engall, and Evelyn's little form hopped with each earsplitting syllable. She dropped the fruit basket in front of the door, which spilled and sent two apples and a pineapple rolling down the hallway, and ran back to the elevator in which she had come up. She did not relax or slow down until she reached her dormitory, which she shared with a grouchy piece of work named Yvonne, who always wore black and spoke in only a deep, bitter tone. Evelyn found her quite disturbing, for Evelyn was a cheerful soul who believed that the color of clothing one wore could alter one's mood. Yvonne chuckled sinisterly as Evelyn ran inside the dormitory and slammed the door closed.
"So, did Mrs. Engall like her fruit basket?" she asked, smiling slightly but not looking up from the composition notebook lying open in her lap.
