The Camel’s back

“They called me teacher’s pet. That didn’t bother me, really. I always got along better with adults than my peers. I enjoy different things. For example, I take no pleasure in making fun of other children or bullying the different or weak. Apparently, I am an odd sort. Everyone else seems gleeful in their collective unkindness. I prefer quiet, solitary endeavors. Teachers, adults in general, like that about me. Heretofore – isn’t that a lovely word? I learned it quite recently in a book I was reading. Anyway, heretofore, I’ve been no trouble at all. Children…well, let’s just say I’m no one’s BFF.

“My mother always said to ignore them, and I did try. I read incessantly, even, or especially, during lunch or when we had play time in the school yard. Nose buried in a book, I could ignore the taunting children pointing and laughing, occasionally pushing or poking. Even hair pulling, shoulder punching and ‘accidental’ tripping could be relegated to the outer regions of my consciousness.

“This, um, this incident, was an aberration, I assure you. Ask anyone. Lily? Quiet, mousey, Lily?”

“Lily, you stabbed Johnny 25 times with an ice pick.”

“Well, that’s easily explained, doctor. Johnny has pulled my hair 25 times since school began.”

“You counted?”

“Well, yes, of course. I know exactly what each child in my class has done to me and how many times. I like numbers, you see. I can’t help but count.” Pause. “And remember.”

“I see.”

“I guess the 25th time was the…was the… how does that saying go? The straw that broke the camel’s back?” Giggles. “Or just the last straw.”

“Hmmm.”

“May I go home now?”

“Home? Lily, you will be with us for quite some time. You do realize that you killed Johnny?”

“Oh, well, yes, I suppose. There was an awful lot of blood.” Pause. “I do hope the children are better behaved here. I would hate another camel’s back to break.”