V for Vaunty

She strutted down the brightly lit corridor, hand on her hip. Smirking at her fans, who were lined up along the corridor, she waved a perfectly manicured hand. Her long, shiny, black  hair cascaded down her shoulders in perfectly spaced out waves and her bright, green eyes had the look of triumph that most popular girls' eyes had. 

In some ways, Nicole wished she could be more like Jenni Howard. The most popular girl in the school, Jenni had won over a fifty medals and cups for the school in various competitions. She was always nice and sweet to her friends and well-behaved to her teachers. She was well dressed and had a great fashion sense.

However, there were some disadvantages to being Jenni Howard. She was only nice and sweet to her friends, for example. She had been quite mean to a few of Nicole's friends more than once and bullied the younger kids by calling them tiny and silly.

Nicole stepped out of her place in the neatly organized line, and assumed a position in the middle of the corridor, blocking kids going to their classes. Blocking Jenni. As Jenni and her sidekicks approached, Jenni stopped smirking and began to frown instead.

"Hey, get out of the way. We're going to our classes, can't you see?" Jenni said loudly.

"Yeah, I can see quite clearly, thanks. Um, Mrs. Johnson asked for your chart. She wanted to, uh, exhibit it in the Science exhibition," Nicole said with a smug smile,"but I can see that you don't want to, ahem, so never mind."

Saying so she stepped back to the side of the corridor.

"Um…" Jenni replied, clearly thinking hard. "You can't just block students going to their classes, you know? But, just this once I'll forgive you and give you what you want."

Jenni handed over a bright pink chart with information written on it with a gold metallic pen. Nicole looked at it for a second and then gave a disdainful look at Jenni. 

"Huh. Well, okay. I'm not sure Mrs. Johnson'll be too happy with it but never mind, we'll see, okay?" she said jeeringly.

"Okay, yeah, whatever," Jenni muttered, looking furious.

Nicole turned around and began walking down the corridor. One step higher with Project: Disbanding Popular Girl. 

U for Unalterable

"Vicki Owen! Please come and seat yourself inside the waiting room," a loud, foreboding voice called out from behind the dull, grey colored door.

Vicki got up with a breathy little sigh and started to walk to the door. She tried opening it in vain and then stood aside for somebody else to open it instead. She took the hand of the man who had just opened it and trotted inside with a determined look.

As soon as she had gotten inside, she flashed a smile at every single person in the room, making sure that everybody could see her, and pointed at a scruffy little boy, who was snuffling into his teddy bear. He immediately sat up, his back straight and his teddy bear forgotten. 

She pointed to the floor and he got off the chair, looking disappointed. Nobody murmured when she clambered up onto the chair and then pointed to the floor again. The boy sat on the floor and began to suck his thumb.

Her family always said that she had a way of making people listen to her. It was a shame that she could never make them listen to her. They were, sadly, immune to her charms.

"Papa!" Vicki called, with a grim look on her face, her usually twinkling grey eyes stern.

"Yes, darling?" the man she had walked in with asked.

"Papa, do I have to go? It's not compolusery, is it?" she asked with the all the charms of a four year old girl.

"Yes, sweetie, you do," her father replied, running a hand through his shiny red hair.

She began to sulk and stared straight ahead at a new door, with a shiny gold handle. She liked that handle. Perhaps she would ask her father for one. 

"Vicki Owen! Please come in!" the foreboding voice called from inside.

She got up and smoothed down the folds of her dress. Her carefree childhood was over. The future was unalterable. She would have to go to school.

T for Temptation

Shirley stood in front of the big, red signboard in her oversized purple jacket. She sighed, as if to indicate that the impossible would never happen,and rotated so that her back was facing the signboard, but then turned back around. Perhaps just once, for the last time… what could happen? 

Thinking so, she entered Pizza Hut with a smile that stretched from ear to ear. She confidently walked straight to the counter, her curly brown hair bouncing up and down.

"Hello, Ms. Hawks! What can we get for you today?" the friendly counter lady asked.

"Oh, please, Naomi! You know me too well to call me Ms. Hawks anymore! It's Shirley! Anyways, I think I'll have a Hawaiian, small please! Make sure there's enough pineapple, eh?" Shirley replied, hands clenched into fists with the thought of a delicious, cheesy pizza with the best toppings that were invented. "How much is it?"

"$10.90, please,Ms. Haw-Shirley!" Naomi replied, grinning.

Shirley handed over a ten dollar note with a few coins and asked in anticipation,

"How much time will it take?"

"Around ten minutes, Shirley, just wait for a bit, okay?" Naomi said. "You can sit down and wait till then, okay?"

Shirley nodded and slowly walked to one of the tables in the corner and sat down.

In around ten minutes, just as Naomi had said, the pizza arrived. Shirley waved away the waiter and stared in delight at the beautiful pizza. She immediately tore away a slice, disregarding the heat, and bit into it.  

Ah, the thick, tangy cheese, the sweet, golden pineapple, the succulent ham…all of them seemed to hit her like a blow to her stomach. Delicious….

She finished in two minutes flat and, pushing out her chair, ran out of the restaurant.

As soon as she got outside, a hand landed on her shoulder. She swiveled around, to find a middle aged man with an untidy mop of black hair and a very cross face.

"Shirley! You are not supposed to be spending your precious pocket money on buying a pizza from one of the unhealthiest places in the country, and you know that! What did you think you were doing?" he said loudly and angrily.

Prising his big hands off her shoulder with her considerably smaller ones, she looked up at him and made a sad face, with her eyes wide open.

"What can I say, Papa? It was temptation, that was all!"

S for Scopophobia

"Candy! Sweetie, the guests are here! Come on out, quickly!" my mother shouted from the living room of my two floored house.

I clattered down the stairs as fast as I could and ran into the living room to confront my mother and the undoubtedly boring guests.

"Candy, this is my college mate from almost twenty years back. We've somehow managed to keep in touch," my mother said, with her arm around the stranger,"and I'm very glad we did! She was an amazing friend!"

"Hm, really?" I replied, raising my eyebrows and trying to look interested.

But my attention was on the tall girl behind my mother's friend. She looked very shy, and kept her gaze on the vase of flowers on the living room table.

"Candace, this is my daughter, Harriet, Harriet Mendoza. She's your age," my mother's friend said, noticing my curious expression.

Presuming her surname from what she had just said, I looked at her and smiled the most charming smile I could produce.

"Mrs.Mendoza, how about you and Mom go and chat for a little time? I'm sure you have a lot to catch up on, so you could just leave me and Harriet for a short while, to get to know each other," I said, making my voice as persuasive as I could.

"What a brilliant idea, Candy! We'll go, then," my mother said, taking a rather doubtful looking Mrs. Mendoza by the hand and dragging her out of the room, looking relieved.

As soon as I was sure they had gone, I turned around and smiled at Harriet.

"Hi, I'm Candace, as I'm sure you already know, but everyone calls me Candy 'cause I really love lollipops! Yeah, I know lollipops are for kids and all, supposedly, but I totally adore them!" I exclaimed, trying not to overwhelm her with my excitement to have a girl my age to talk to. "Please do have a seat!"

"Hi, I'm Harriet, and everyone calls me Harriet because I don't really have any special interests, I suppose," Harriet replied, tucking her blonde fringe behind her ear, and sitting down, looking terrified.

"Hey, are you okay? You look a little worried. Is everything okay?" I asked, thinking what an understatement that was.

"Uh, nothing," Harriet replied, her blue eyes wide and scared, still keeping her gaze on the flower vase.

"Okay…anyways, you said that you, um, didn't have any interests, yeah? I'm sure you do. Just you wait, I'll come up with a nickname for you in no time!" I said enthusiastically. "Let's see…do you like sports?"

"Well, they're okay, I guess," Harriet replied, her voice the opposite of mine.

"Art?"

"No."

"Reading, maybe?"

"Definitely not."

The conversation continued for a while like this, with Harriet's monosyllabic, flat-voiced answers and her apparent fascination with the flower vase until I gave up. She looked so petrified, with sweat shining across her brow, that I grew sick of trying to have conversation with her.

"Maybe you'd like a choco chip cookie?" I asked, making a valiant attempt at breaking the awkward silence.

"No, it's fine," Harriet said, her voice suddenly become high-pitched.

I blushed with a sudden thought. Was it me that was making her feel uncomfortable? Was I scaring her in some way? I looked at the flower vase as well and decided to lengthen the silence.

In a few minutes, my mother and Mrs. Mendoza reentered the room.

"We'll have to go now, Candace. Sorry we're leaving so early," Mrs. Mendoza said, looking cheery.

She walked out the front door, beckoning to Harriet. Harriet clumsily stood up and jogged after her mother. My mother followed them, smiling rather nervously.

As soon as they had all got out of the front door, Mrs. Mendoza said in a most un-cheery voice,

"Betty, I hope your daughter realized that Harriet is not comfortable to talk to strangers. She suffers from scopophobia and I hope that Candace did not try to make unnecessary conversation!"

"Candy!!!!"

Uh-oh.

R for Ricochet

Charlie knew that she should have never let her daughter talk her into it. Why had she agreed to do something she was completely inexperienced at? Why had she agreed when she knew that she would make a fool of herself? Why????

"Hey, Mom, we're supposed to wait over there, at the drinks' stand. Come on, let's go over," Olivia Sanders told her mother, looking a little puzzled at her mother's horrified expression.

"Ollie, I can't do this. I'm just a beginner at badminton; we're gonna lose, sweetie," she replied, feeling guilty as she imagined her daughter's disappointed face.

It never came. Her daughter gave her the Look and sighed.

"Really, Mom? Really?" her daughter said in a disgusted tone.

Those three words shut her up. She was not going to disappoint her daughter. She was going to try her best and win the tournament, making her daughter proud somehow.

"Alright, come on, then. Let's go over, okay?" Charlie said resignedly and led the way to the waiting area.

As soon as she reached, she spotted a sign which stated all of the team members' names and in which order they were going to play. She looked for her and her daughter's opponents and groaned. 

"Ollie! We're against Violet and Vanessa Cooper! Violet's been training in badminton for way longer than I have! We have no chance against them!" she gasped out, shaking her head.

"Mom! Mom, calm down! Nobody stands a chance against the Sanders' ferocity, okay? Mrs.Cooper's backhand shots are really weak so you need to go for her left side. Meanwhile, Vanessa is horrible at moving around the court and stuff, so when you hit a shot to her, place the shuttlecock really well. Every opponent has a weakness, Mom," Olivia replied, sounding amused.

Charlie was just about to answer when an announcement rang out, echoing around the huge, air-conditioned, indoor court.

"Charlotte and Olivia Sanders against Violet and Vanessa Cooper! Ladies and gentlemen, put your hands together for the first match of the day!" 

Charlie grabbed Olivia with her free hand and walked to the court, feeling very trembly inside. 

"Hey, Charlie! Hey, Ollie! Good luck, guys!" Mrs.Cooper called out from the other side of the court.

And then she served.

As the game progressed, Charlie stopped feeling nervous. Badminton was her thing! She wasn't going to lose in the game she loved! Ten minutes passed and the audience were at a standstill. The score was 20-19 and it was her turn to serve. She swung the racket and it hit the shuttlecock. It flew in a wide arc…reached Vanessa…got hit back…to her left side.

She closed her eyes and held out her racket, hoping that the shuttlecock would just ricochet back. Five, four, three, two, one…ping! As she heard the sound of the shuttlecock hitting her racket, her eyes flew open.

Vanessa leaped forward to try to hit it back…and missed. Charlie put on a sympathetic face and shook their opponents' hands along with Olivia but as soon as they turned away she grabbed her daughter into a bear hug.

"Nobody can match the Sanders' ferocity, eh, Ollie?" she said, ruffling her daughter's hair.

Her daughter rolled her eyes and said,"We still have three more matches to go,Mom,"

Could somebody please remind her why she was doing this?

Q for Quean

"No, Mommy! I am not going for my piano exam and that is that! Unless you wish to drag me out and create a scene, I am not coming! How dare you sign me up for it without telling me! How dare you!" said Rosabelle Diane Hope, stamping her foot on the floor and shaking her head at her mother, Annabella Hope, a gentle woman who certainly did not deserve this little bundle of terror to torment her forever.

"Please, dear, come for your exam. I have paid quite a lot of money just so that you could do this, you know? And I have reminded you, multiple times, that your exam was coming up. Besides, your teacher says that you are coming along marvelously so there is really no need to worry, darling," Mrs.Hope replied, looking at the Rolls Royce parked outside there front gate a little nervously,"and please come quickly, the driver will leave any moment."

Rosabelle sighed at her mother's apparent stupidity and turned around, as if to walk back into the house. 

"Rose! Rose, please! You have to come! Must I call your father to come back home from work early? He will not be pleased, will he now?" Mrs.Hope said, her voice getting very high and worried.

"Really, Mommy? I am not coming. I do not care whether Daddy is upset or not, but I am not coming!!!!!" Rosabelle exclaimed with another stamp. "I would prefer to go back inside!"

At this point of this argument, the driver had gotten out of the car to see what was going on.  Mark Simmons, a simple, honest man had gone through the trials of raising a fussy little girl and was quite experienced with this sort of thing. He walked up to the front door and smiled at the pair. 

"Hello, Mrs.Hope, and hello, little miss! Why's this takin' so much time, then, hmm?" he asked cheerily, looking mainly at Rosabelle.

"Hello, Mr. Simmons. Please mind your own business," Rosabelle said crisply to him and looked back at her mother to continue the argument.

"Hey, hey, hey, little miss. Calm down, now. Alright, as far as I can see, you're refusing to go for your piano exam, am I right?" Mark replied as sternly as he could.

Rosabelle hesitantly nodded at him, looking confused.

"Okay…fine! You can stay here while your mother goes and does your piano exam for you! She'll probably get more marks than you anyway! Yeah, 'cause she's got way more common sense than you, little miss!" he said triumphantly.

Rosabelle looked at him, amazed. And then she turned around and looked at her mother. 

"What rubbish is he talking about, Mommy?!" she asked indignantly.

"Well, dear, perhaps it does make sense. I mean, you are adamant about not coming, right?"

Saying so, Mrs. Hope turned around and began to walk toward the car. Mark followed her, a smug smile on his face. Rosabelle looked after them for a moment, gaped, and then ran after them after making sure that she had her bag slung over her shoulder.

She overtook them, opened the car door, and slid inside, a resigned expression on her face.

"A bit of a quean, ain't she, ma'am?" Mark muttered into Mrs.Hope's ear, grinning.

Mrs.Hope looked at him with an expression similar to Rosabelle's and got into the car next to her daughter. 

P for Passionate

"C'mon, boys! All hands on deck! Quickly, now, before the storm gets worse, eh?" shouted Aaron Quinn, very slightly struggling to keep his balance on the slippery, rocking surface he was standing on.

A group of approximately ten men came running onto the deck of the large lifeboat, wearing bright yellow plastic coats which stood out in the dreary, grey background.

"What's up,Mr.Quinn, sir? Is something wrong or what?" said Peter Ashford, one of the few teenagers  on the island who actually wanted to do something about the people needing help at sea. "Have you found something, then?"

"Listen, Ashford. I've been doing this almost my whole life and guess what? I have never just found something without looking for it," the ship's captain replied crisply,"I want to get this done fast. I've put my second-in-command at the ship's controls but he can't manage for long so I need to say some stuff. Important stuff."

Here he paused and looked around at the earnest faces around him. He smiled in pride, observing their strong and determined posture. These men were good men and they would most probably change the world and make it better, starting from rescuing people at sea.

"All of you lot have come here and chosen to be part of the island's rescue team because you've got passion! Every single one of you is passionate about helping people, I bet! As a matter o'fact, I bet it's one of your most favorite things in the world, innit?! Now come on, we're gonna save those people and we're gonna save them today!"

All of the team cheered, many of them patting the people standing next to them on the back. The next moment, a huge wave hit the boat, causing all of them to lurch sideways.

"Oi, enough of the sentimental catch-up! Brace yourselves!" Aaron shouted, alarmed at the size of the wave. "This storm's only gonna get worse-"

Another wave slammed the boat, the force of it so strong that it caused him to slip and fall onto the deck, putting most of the force on his hands and jarring them. A pair of strong hands pulled him up again and he turned around to find Peter. He nodded at him and wordlessly gestured at the wheelhouse, where the binoculars were.

Both of them began running towards the wheelhouse. Fear made them run faster and in around thirty seconds, they were wrenching the door open. Looking through the binoculars, Aaron ran a hand through his grey hair and groaned.

"I'm seeing something orange out there, Ashford. Tell me it's not a dinghy, please," he said softly, his voice cracking.

Peter picked up the binoculars and looked through them. Then he turned towards Aaron, his face grey.

"It is a dinghy, sir. And it's got four people on it. It's got kids on it!" Peter replied, looking like his life had just become twice as difficult, which it probably had as a matter of fact.

Aaron shook his head, but deciding to try rescuing them anyway, he ran to the back of the wheelhouse and picked up a rope and a few flashlights. He tossed Peter a rope and a flashlight as well and ran back outside.

"Listen up, y'all! Keep the boat under control, alright? We've spotted the missing family out there and we're gonna get them into the boat!" Aaron yelled as loudly as he could and walked to the edge of the deck, trying to keep his balance, and peered over the railing.

"Sir!? Please get us outa here quick! We can't hang onto the boat much longer!" one of the children, a teenage boy with dark hair, shouted to him.

The dinghy was just below the lifeboat now and it would have been fairly easy to maneuver them into the boat with the help of two ropes; if not for the weather. Peter unravelled the rope and let it down along the side of the boat. The youngest of the family, a small girl who couldn't had been more than seven, desperately clutched at the rope. She screamed as the dinghy rocked violently but managed to hang onto the rope and get a good grip on it.

Peter gradually pulled her up until she could clutch the railing of the boat and Aaron helped her onto the deck and shouted for one of the crew to get her below deck. They repeated this procedure for the rest of the family, with a little difficulty, and managed to get them all onto the boat. 

Aaron looked at Peter, dropped the rope onto the floor, and roughly tackled him into a hug.

"Life can't get any more difficult, mate," he said jovially into his neck.