Hi everyone! I know this is an extremely overdone story, but I had fun writing it! Disclaimer- Holes belongs to Louis Sachar, not me! Please, no flames (no like, no read) but any constructive criticism is definitely welcome. I won't post the next chapter until I know that I have readers, so review away! Thanks!

-xXMostHatedCloverXx

"Mrs. Mayer? Can I go to the library?" I asked in my most icky sweet voice, both of my eyes glued on Kimberly across the room.

I hate Kimberly with every ounce of hate I possess.

"Hold on." Mrs. Mayer impatiently replied. She then moved over to the other side of my reading classroom, five desks away form Kimberly.

It was the usual race to be released to go to the library.

Once you got a pass from the teacher signed, you could leave. As usual, she picked her favorite students first, which in no way was fair. I obviously was not one of her favorite students.

In fact, she downright hated me. You see, at the beginning of the semester, my mom went in for a parent teacher conference, and it turns out, my mom and her were old friends from high school. Well, not old friends, more like old enemies. So now she hates me because of my her and my mom's old feud.

And you have no idea unless you've had a teacher despise you how hard it is to get a passing grade in her class. I'll give you a hint. Very hard.

Mrs. Mayer was only two desks away from Kimberly now. My evil classmate had a smirk on her face meant just for me.

My hand shot into the air again. Kimberly would get the next book in the Harry Potter series, before me. It always seemed like she was reading the same thing as me. So this scene was a common occurrence in Mrs. Mayer's reading class. Plus, I bet she didn't even read the books she practically stole from me. She probably just sat on her lazy butt watching the flat screen T.V. She always bragged about.

"Mrs. Mayer?" I pleaded. I know I sounded childish, but I didn't really care... I needed that book!

I was practically bouncing up and down in my seat when she waddled over to my desk (she's probably fifty months pregnant) and ever so slowly signed my pass.

I stood up so fast and with so much enthusiasm , that I knocked over my desk.

"Kate! Get back here and clean up that mess!" Mrs. Mayer yelled.

Blushing crimson, I made my way over and began scooping up my books.

"Detention after class." she continued.

Now, I'll stop you right here. What comes next is not characteristic at all for me. I'm a pretty quiet, obedient person when it comes to school and outings.

But I wanted to rip her head off.

My mom calls it "One of the those times" for me.

No really, I behave 99% of the time! I have bad ager issues. I'll admit it. My therapist counsels me weekly. He advises me to just "bite my tongue" and "be careful what you say".

But when I saw Kimberly waltz into the room , Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows under her arm. I blew it. There was no such thing as " be careful what you say". It should have been "be careful who you punch". I was on Kimberly before any one could make a move to stop me. Seeing red, I tackled her to the ground with ease. I was bigger than her despite my epic shortness of 4'9.

I could see blood on my hands, but I didn't stop. I couldn't. Even if I wanted to. Common sense meant nothing as I beat the crap out of Kimberly.

I was aware of people pulling me away, so began hitting them. Any were I could reach I was biting, kicking, scratching, and punching... Insults flew from my mouth like bullets from a gun.

But then I noticed that I was fighting with the air. They had finally pulled me off of her.

Now I actually looked around at the damage I had causes.

Dang.

Several desks were turned over. Their contents spewed across the floor. The classmates who had pulled Kimberly away were a few yards away, the royal pain herself in the middle, her mouth and nose bleeding freely, the red dripping down her face. A black I had began to form around her sobbing eyes.

She whimpered feebly.

Another surge of rage rippled through me. I kicked another desk.

But this time I was able to recover quickly.

Usually it ended up like this. People hurt, I'd have to switch schools, my parents upset. Ugh. This would kill them...

I vividly remember when threw a lamp at my step dad, or when I drove a car into the wall of the garage, or even when I had climbed into the alpaca enclosure at the zoo... all in fits of rage.

But the mess I made in reading class would give me a lot of explaining to do. Why hadn't Mrs. Mayer just given me a stinking pass?

Principal Jennings came running into the classroom, his comb over askew.

"What in the world! Nancy! Are you all right?" he rushed over to Mrs. Mayer (whose name apparently was Nancy) whom I hadn't even noticed. She was holding her huge pregnant stomach.

"She...kicked...me" was all she could gasp between sobs.

Oh crap.

If I injured or even... killed her baby. That was murder! I'd go to jail!

It was bad enough that I had attacked Kimberly, but my pregnant teacher too? How in the world would I explain this to my mom?

"Oh no mom, just a little scramble over a Harry Potter book..."

I was in deep doo doo.

"Kate. My office now." the principal glared.

It took a while before Principal Jennings entered his overly clean office.

Is stared at my shoes. One was untied, it's frayed laces dark brown from dragging on the ground all day. "Kate Simmons! Do you realize how much trouble you're in? You are facing expulsion, even jail! Attacking a classmate! Attacking a teacher! What was going through your mind?" he sputtered.

"I don't know, sir." I mumbled.

"Well, I notified your parents. You will have to attend court once charges have been pressed, which they will be... If anything is wrong with Nancy- I mean Mrs. Mayer's baby, you will be held responsible!" he continued.

My life was for sure ruined. Today I had most likely killed a baby over a Harry Potter book. I didn't feel an ounce sorry for Kimberly though. Just Mrs. Mayer.

Suddenly the door, swung open revealing my mom. She was still in her waitress outfit. She'll be pissed that she had to come from work. She approached me, a cold glare in her dark hazel eyes.

Everyone says that I'm a carbon copy of my mom.

It's true. We both have fair, freckly skin, and dark brown wavy hair. Her hair is a lot shorter than mine though. I started to grow mine out when I was twelve. My mom is really pretty, and kind (though she didn't look it right now) and I don't know why she had to marry my terrible step dad. I know he hits her, like he does to me. Even after seven years, I still refuse to call him dad. He's just... Rob.

"Let's go Kate. I'm really sorry Principal Jennings...about you know." she icily said before grabbing my hand and practically dragging me out the door.

Tears prickled my eyes as we climbed into the navy Honda in the parking lot. I hated to to disappoint her.

" It was just one of those times mom... really, I didn't mean to." I began, the hot tears of anguish falling down my face.

"No Kate, but you still did! You need to get a grip!I thought that counseling was helping you! You haven't had an outburst like that in a while." she scolded. I hated how sad she looked. It makes her look so old and tired.

" I know it's been now that Jeremy's gone, but you have to get it together!" I could now see tears in her eyes. Jeremy. My brother. We never talked about him, ever. He killed himself last year. I know why.

It's Rob. We all hate him, but mom doesn't see it.

Since we in an apartment only a few blocks from school, the drive was quick. But today it seemed longer with mom acting so depressed and such. Plus, on top of it all, Rob was home.

"You better hope that baby's O.K. We'll discuss your punishment after dinner." was all she said to me before she drove away, leaving me standing at the curb, staring at our apartment. I looked from the door to my untied shoes and then to the door again. I would have to face him sometime.

Our apartment was pretty small., but in a cozy way. Money was always pretty tight around here, so our furniture was all ratty and second hand. I took off my sneakers and gingerly placed them on the door mat. I waited.

It didn't take long before I felt a hand reach over and pull my hair pulling me forward.

"You little..." he began, naming every swear word I know. And ever some I didn't. He pulled me upright, so my face was inches from his. I could smell alcohol in his breath.

He spit the words "I hope that baby dies so you go to jail and I never have to see your face again!"

He punctuated each word with a slap across the face. Tears were streaming down my face.

It always started out like this, gradually getting worse, until I he was punching and kicking me, hard. During these times, like fits of rage I was never able to think. But today it was different. One word was spiraling around my thoughts, squeezing my chest until I couldn't breath, and aching inside.

Jail. Jail. Jail. I was going to jail.

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Thanks,

xXMostHatedCloverXx