| rdfs:comment | - (Based on a true story.) It was a bright sunny day for most of the world, but for Honey Henson, things were not going so well. She was walking her way down to the gym, dejected, while the weather reflected the opposite of her feelings. The sun was shining, the birds were singing, and kids laughed and talked on the way down to the detatched gymnasium. Honey followed the group into the gym and the smell of floor polish hit her nose. The gym was a new addition to her school, and combined with the fact that she hated sports, this day couldn't get much worse. Are they trying to make us die of asphyxiation? she thought as she listened to her gym teacher tell them what they were doing for the day. She was right to think that. The floor polish was really, really strong. The group broke up and b
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| abstract | - (Based on a true story.) It was a bright sunny day for most of the world, but for Honey Henson, things were not going so well. She was walking her way down to the gym, dejected, while the weather reflected the opposite of her feelings. The sun was shining, the birds were singing, and kids laughed and talked on the way down to the detatched gymnasium. Honey followed the group into the gym and the smell of floor polish hit her nose. The gym was a new addition to her school, and combined with the fact that she hated sports, this day couldn't get much worse. Are they trying to make us die of asphyxiation? she thought as she listened to her gym teacher tell them what they were doing for the day. She was right to think that. The floor polish was really, really strong. The group broke up and began running up and down the court. Honey followed half-heartedly while her classmates showed off their lovely basketball skills. Big deal, she thought as she passed the teacher, who told her to start participating. Grudgingly, she picked up her pace and almost immediately fell over — hard — onto her foot. She screamed, and it echoed all over the gym. The class was a bit slow on the uptake. They had heard the scream, but no one seemed to realize it was coming from the girl who didn't talk much. Then Blythe White ran over to the teacher and started telling him that Honey was hurt. He slouched over and looked down at Honey. "Do you want to walk it off or go to the nurse?" No one bothered to help Honey up. She clawed the wall to get up, gingerly put her weight on her foot, and winced as a burst of pain shot through it. "I'll go to the nurse, thanks." And with that, she left. Looking up the hill that led to the back door into the school, she sighed. It would take her ages to get up this hill with her foot. She was switching between limping horribly and hopping on her good foot when a big red pickup truck pulled over the hill. Honey breathed a sigh of relief. She knew that truck — it belonged to the custodians. The janitor rolled down the window and called, "Do you want a ride up?" Honey nodded gratefully and got into the car. It was a much shorter ride up than she had expected. Once they were at the door, the janitor got out and went into the school, coming out moments later with a wheelchair. Honey hopped into it and the custodian rolled her into the school. She felt as though she had shrunk a little; everyone was a head above her. Two heads, one black, one blonde, stuck out of an art classroom. What happened? mouthed Isabella, while Emily looked on in shock. I'll tell you later, Honey mouthed back, entering the nurse's office. The nurse shuffled over and took the wheelchair from the custodian. Wheeling Honey into a room, she gently took off Honey's hightop and examined her foot. It had started to swell and hurt like crazy. Honey sat there as the nurse picked up the phone and called her mother. "Your mother's coming in a while," she had said, poking her head in. "Here's an icepack, lay down for a while until she gets here." Honey lay back on the blue pleather bed, staring at the ceiling. She wasn't sure what had happened to her foot. She didn't suspect in the least that it was broken, and she hoped it wasn't, for a slightly juvenile reason. Honey was one of those people who were perfect: no cavities, no broken bones, et cetera. Breaking her foot would definitely ruin her streak. Her mother arrived and once again Honey sat in the wheelchair and was wheeled out into her mom's SUV. She hoped that she wouldn't have to stay in this wheelchair for whatever time it took to recover! Honey looked at where they were pulling in. It wasn't home. It was the local X-ray center. Honey took a deep breath and hobbled in the door. The next day Honey stayed home with a big, fat, gray boot on her foot. She was bored, but this was better than being at school. Mrs. Henson walked into the living room. "Honey, time to go get your cast." "Really?" she replied. "Is it four-thirty already?" Her friend Kenzie was having a party later that day and she was invited, but she had to get her cast on before it. "Yes, now don't dawdle." Honey stood up and grabbed the crutches that were too small for her. They had been fitted when Honey was in second grade and had sprained her ankle. She shuddered slightly as she remembered how she was confined to one floor. At least her middle school had an elevator. Honey crutched into school. Kenzie was carrying her things and they got into the elevator. "How's your foot feel?" she asked. "Like crud," Honey replied, looking down at the fat blue cast on her foot. They reached the fourth floor and Isabella ran up to them. "Ohmigosh, Honey, you have to tell us what happened," she said. Emily nodded. "Not much," Honey said. "I tripped, fell, broke my foot." She shrugged and Isabella looked at her. "That's not what people are saying." "Oh, really?" Honey replied, feeling anger boil up inside her. "What are people saying, then?" Isabella put on her mocking voice. "'Did you hear about Honey?' 'Yeah, she's such a big drama queen.' 'She probably just twisted her ankle.' 'Loser.'" Honey rolled her eyes. "They'll be sucking up to me once they learn I've got an elevator pass." Isabella nodded. "That reminds me... can I take the elevator today?"
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