The
Suki Saki
Room



Dalli would like you all to know, before you read her story, that she doesn’t support suicide. It’s just our Creative Writing teacher gave us extra credit if we killed someone in our story and/or used guacamole. =)


"A Shadow’s Plea"
By: Dalli Lama (A Mack Mamma)


All year I had been following a stupid shadowperson around. I attended a never-ending number of practices, games and festivals just to shadow my upperclassman or sit in the stands—working my butt day after day. I didn’t suck. I was good, yet I never performed, never received the applause I worked so hard for. Never being a part of the family. Just left out like a turtle on the highway, upperclassmen pummeling me like semi’s, telling me I wasn’t important and that I was just a "freshling".

Well, this was it, the big Friday Night. Fridays were always football games, of course, but this football game of the season we played our rivals. It was completely hopeless considering our football team couldn’t play for crap, but it was still our job to root them on. Well, at any rate, I wouldn’t be there. I couldn’t take the abuse anymore! I had a plan—a plan to end my misery all together. When the band filed out in perfect step, I wasn’t going to be the idiot shadow in the stands anymore—no, not me!

So there I was, sitting all alone in the stands while the band warmed up for the half-time show. The performance I knew I should’ve been a part of. I had to end it all, all my suffering I’d endured the while year, trying to be loyal to a band that didn’t appreciate my caliber of talent.

II climbed the bleachers and calculated the height. The bleachers were pretty high, but the impact wouldn’t be enough to do it. So, decided to sit down and contemplate, when something sharp…. *OUCH!* pricked my butt! I turned and looked down to see a small plastic spoon-fork thingy. Flexible, yet prickly. Haha! Those lunchladies always thought they were the only utensils that would never hurt anyone. Now I had a plan that would work!

I stood up on the highest bleacher and raised the spork high in the air.
"Oh spook-fork mutation of an eating tool! Drive deep! Kill quick! For I cannot bear to live this wretched existence any longer!"

And with that, I stabbed the spork into my neck. I grew dizzy quickly, and began to see figures. I thought it was that time where your life flashes before you, but the figure began to speak as I started to fall back…

"Hey Freshling!" It was the senior I had shadowed. "Freshling! Guess what? You get to--!" She stopped short, probably in terror, as she saw what I had done.

I fell back over a metal bar and down the back of the bleachers. A million thoughts crossed my mind, but there was nothing I could do. I finally landed in a pile of guacamole and mud.
I remember… nothing else….


So you say, how is this person telling this story if they’re dead? Well, I’m just the writer’s guardian angel on a mission to warn all shadows out there.


Wagner starts to play in the background…


So, my children of the shadows, don’t give up! Remember the story of this one freshling. Remember that you too, one day, will have your chance to stand in the glory of the light… the light… of the football field.

**Legal stuff: Characters in this plea do not have any relation to anyone I know and you can’t sue me or Spanky Productions just because you are some kind of freak and think that you’re being portrayed as a character. This is not the original version of A Shadow’s Plea, but rather a rewrite after the first was destroyed.


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