The Teachers...

So far, so good, it’s great to be home. But… well, Dad called all my teachers. I wasn’t in the room at the time. But Dad called me soon enough. I knew they’d all want to talk to me- more like scold and lecture and a few of them might want to yell at me, but I was ready. “Hello?” My Whology teacher was on the phone. “YOU ARE A VERY, VERY BAD BOY!!! Do you realize what heartache and pain you caused your parents? You ought to be ashamed of yourself!” I tried to speak, but she kept on going. “And you have not been to school Two weeks! Do you realize that? TWO weeks! Do you know how much homework piles up over two weeks?” “I thought school was canceled for most of that because of the snow!” I said quickly before she could keep talking. There was a pause on the other end of the line. “Well, that’s not an excuse for bad behavior. I should hope you’re parents are punishing you in the way they see fit.” I’m afraid this I found hilarious, and I couldn’t stop from laughing. “What? That’s not funny!” She sputtered. “No, no it’s not, I’m sorry…” “Of all the rudeness!” and she hung up. I sat down in Dad’s chair. Yeah, I’d been standing in it. “Oh, boy. Hope that’s not an indication of how class is gonna go.” I said, handing dad back the phone. He was looking at me with a sad smile. “That’s… the first time you laughed in a long time, son.” He said. I looked down. I didn’t know how to reply. But I don’t think dad wanted a reply. He looked up the next teacher’s phone number. “You might wanna stick around, JoJo. The next one will probably want to talk to you as well.”
So all the calls went a little like that- gym teacher was a little upset about the gym being destroyed partially, but he was still able to… scold. And the hardest one was my writing teacher. I really like her- that’s why I like doing this a lot, but she was… well, she sounded like she didn’t trust me anymore. I do… I think that’s fair. I don’t think anyone will completely trust me anymore. But now I have to live with it. I always will have this scar though. And it’s all my fault. But… I’ll manage. I kinda have to, now.
I really, really want to go try to fix up the symphoniphone. I know I can, but I don’t really want to go out when I’m grounded. If somebody caught me, and told my parents that I’d been out, and that I’d not stayed home when I was supposed to, that would be really, really bad. I don’t want to mess up again. So, because it’s wrong, I won’t. I don’t want to let them down… again.