Carter & His Mad Lunchbox

by Chloe C., age 11
Carter & His Mad Lunchbox Chloe can stay up till 7 am (under certain holiday conditions) and is 11 years old. She recently went to Japan.

“When I entered my classroom, everyone looked at me, and half of them stared straight at my lunch. I looked down and saw water leaking through the paper bag. Like seriously, why do parents give their own child’s lunch in a paper bag?! No? Only me?”

“Carter! The school bus is here!”

“Coming!” I shouted.

“Don’t forget to bring your lunch bag!”

“Yeah, I know, whatever.”

I rushed to the bus just in time to see the fat bus driver wave his chubby, fat hand goodbye. Carrying my lunch bag, I trudged along the path to go to school. I was half a subject late just because the bus driver drove off without picking me up!

Fast forward, and we’re in my classroom after staying an eternity in the principal’s office to explain why I was late, which delayed even more of my time. When I entered my classroom, everyone looked at me, and half of them stared straight at my lunch. I looked down and saw water leaking through the paper bag. Like seriously, why do parents give their own child’s lunch in a paper bag?! No? Only me? Okay then, I guess only my parents are harassing their child even though I don’t even know what that word means or does, but it sounds like “spilling.”

Anyways, I sat down in my seat, and when I put my lunch down next to me, it went plofltp! My classmate made a disgusted face at me and quickly whipped her cube head back to the teacher and snickered under her putrid breath.

Fast forward again, and I finally made it to lunch with just a soggy sandwich. Long story short, everything else fell out. We went to the lunchroom, and I sat down with my only friend, Andy, who people also made fun of for being really short. 

Andy and I first became friends in first grade. One day at recess, Andy was being bullied by the school bully, Barter. I walked over and told Barter to stop.

He said, “No!”

Then he started kicking my leg and I fell over.

Then the teacher came over and said, “What’s going on?” 

Barter lied and said, “He tried to kick me.”

“But he’s on the ground,” the teacher replied. Then the teacher said, “Come with me, you’re going to the principal’s office.”

Then Barter started bawling, and Andy and I became friends at that moment. 

Every time Andy had even a little problem, Barter would come over and bully him for no reason at all and I thought, Please don’t bully me because my lunch is gone. Then, Barter came over and started bullying me. Barter snatched the lunch away.

Then, he realized the bag was wet and soggy, and he was like, “Ew, what did you do?” And he threw the lunch bag across the lunchroom, and it landed on a teacher’s foot.

The teacher hobbled over and shouted at Barter, “What happened here?”

I started to say, “He threw my lunch across… ”

And then Barter interrupted me and said, “He threw the lunch across the room, and it landed on you.”

And then the teacher said, “That doesn’t sound like a thing Carter would do.” 

Then Barter ran out of the lunchroom.

I whispered to Andy, “What’s up with him?” 

A classmate walked over and whispered in my ear, “How’s your lunch?” 

I bit my tongue to prevent the words I hate you! from coming out. So instead, I said, “Go away.” 

“No!”

“I am going to stay right here and watch you eat your lunch of air with a side of air and air for a drink!” She walked away, sneering and snickering to her friends. By the way, like half the class was her friend and the other half wanted to be her friend.

Andy said, “Why is it always us that gets bullied?!”

“Well… for one you are quite short for your age, no offense, and I am just bullied for my downsides.”

“I am talking to myself,” Andy replied.

The teacher came over and said, “I’m sorry for all the trouble about Barter and Victoria.”

Victoria was the second bully that came over to bully us. She was never nice to anyone except to her friends who actually didn’t support her bullying, but kept it a secret. Don’t ask me how I know, like please don’t. So now school just ended, and guess what?! I missed the bus to drive the students back home! That fat bus driver!

When I got home, I told my mom about the absolutely horrid day I had in school with my lunch bag.

“Call the principal, now!”

“I will… tomorrow…” Mom replied.

What?! Why not right now?!”

“Ohhh… alright, I will call them in a second.”

(She started casually phone calling some stranger, while tapping random numbers.)

Ahem? Where’d the call go?¨

“Didn’t you hear the phone? I just called them.”

“You cannot fool me, Mom. I know you were just tapping numbers and calling a random person.” Then I put on my I am disappointed at you for not calling my principal because two bullies bullied me because of my lunch on a Friday face.

I bet you’re out of breath from reading that, right? Well, to make it easier for you, it was my pouting face.

“Well, maybe you should change schools then,” Mom shot back at me.

“This was all my lunch’s fault because water started leaking from the bag. If it was Victoria, everyone in the class would go and help her in any way possible and would give her unnecessary amounts of towels. See how hard my life is?”

The very next day… 

We were driving to somewhere I wasn’t familiar with, and usually at this time we’d be pulling up to the school’s parking lot.

I asked my mom, “Where are we going?”

“To your new school…”

THE END


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