YouChannell: 2012-2013- Chapter Twenty-Seven: Anima Needs Glasses (December 14, 2012 1:15 P.M.)

“Holy shit! Did you guys hear about that school shooting in Connecticut?” Melanie Wade asked during Ms. Henderson’s Pre-Algebra class, not doing any of her pre-bell work.

“Oh my God, so fucked up!” Uh-Oh answered.

“I know, right?” Melanie said.

While everyone else was talking about that school shooting in Connecticut that killed a bunch of little first-graders, Anima was too busy trying to see what the hell was on the whiteboard for that day’s pre-bell. “Hey, anyone know what the fuck it says on the board?” she asked in a hushed whisper.

“What problem?” Jeremy said, not really giving a shit about pre-algebra or the pre-bell.

Anima pointed at the whiteboard at the front of the classroom, which said-

“Damn, why you always gotta ask shit?” Jeremy asked rather irritably, turning his head towards his own pre-bell.

Anima was about to tell that son of a bitch exactly where he could shove his dumb ass statement, but then she figured that the people around her might defend Jeremy, so she sighed and looked back at the blank white paper she was working on. Looked like she was on her own for this one.

When Ms. Henderson gave back all the graded pre-bells several minutes later, she walked down to Anima’s desk and stared at the young girl. Anima gulped and squirmed in her seat; what the fuck was up with Ms. Henderson? She soon figured out as soon as she got her pre-bell back.

All throughout Pre-Algebra, Anima wondered and worried as Ms. Henderson was teaching the class a new concept- what it was, Anima wasn’t listening. When the class ended, she stayed back while everyone else went to their next classes.

“Ms. Henderson, did you hear about that school shooting in Connecticut?” Melanie asked while she was in the doorway.

“Yes, I did,” Ms. Henderson answered with no emotion in her voice as she was filing paper reports.

“Isn’t it awful though, Ms. Henderson?” Melanie asked again.

“Go to your class, Melanie,” Ms. Henderson commanded, still no emotion in her voice, “I’m very busy right now.”

Melanie huffed and stormed to her seventh-period class.

After the bell rang a couple of minutes later, Anima timidly walked up to Ms. Henderson’s desk and asked, “Did… Did you want me to see you for something?”

“Yeah, it’s about your pre-bell,” Ms. Henderson answered, grabbing the piece of paper Anima was holding in her hand, “I’m very concerned about you.”

Anima shifted her weight from one foot to another. Jesus, she hoped Ms. Henderson wasn’t going to get on her ass for not studying or some other dumb shit like that.

“You did all the problems correctly,” Ms. Henderson began.

Oh?

“Problem is, you copied the numbers down wrong,” she concluded.

Oh.

“Have you been having problems with seeing anything in your other classes or at home?”

Ohhhh. “I mean… I guess so. Why?”

Ms. Henderson said nothing as she stood up from her black swivel chair and walked to the front of the classroom to write down what looked like squiggles to Anima. “Anima, I want you to read these three sentences I’ve written up on the board.”

Wait, those were sentences? “From where I’m standing?” Anima asked.

“From where you’re standing,” Ms. Henderson answered with a slight nod.

Oh… well, okay then. Anima squinted as hard as she could, which usually gave her a slight headache, as she tried to read the three “sentences” on the board. “I have… eight tottles?” she guessed even though she was pretty sure she was wrong.

Ms. Henderson nodded. “Go on.”

The second sentence was easier, though it was still a bitch to read. “Pass the… the… the batter, please.”

“Alright, that’s good. One more sentence to go.”

Anima sighed and squinted more than she had ever squinted before. She was pretty sure that last sentence on the board was illegal to write. “I like… I like meth?”

Ms. Henderson nodded and said, “You did good. Now come to this front desk and read these sentences again.”

“Don’t I have a choice in refusing?” Anima asked.

“Do I look like I’m implying you have a choice?” Ms. Henderson answered with her hands on her hips.

Anima sighed and shuffled her feet towards the front desk where she read the three sentences again- the three correct sentences, that is.

“I have three turtles. Pass the butter, please. I like math,” Anima read with no emotion or motivation in her voice. She looked up at Ms. Henderson and asked if she was free to go.

“Yeah, just tell me your seventh-period teacher, and I’ll e-mail them a note telling them where you were,” Ms. Henderson answered.

Anima quickly told Ms. Henderson her seventh-period teacher’s name and rushed out towards the door of Mrs. Mol’s ICT2 class.

“Where were you?” Kishi whispered as soon as Anima sat down to do her Photoshop work, “I’ve been worrying about you this entire time.”

“I was in Ms. Henderson’s class doing something extra with her,” Anima answered, praying that Kishi wouldn’t ask anymore questions.

Thankfully, she didn’t. “Hey, did you hear about that school shooting in Connecticut?” Kishi asked instead.

Avery Watson, who was behind the two, turned her head and whispered, “It was really awful. I think it was a shame for the gunman to shoot himself in the head instead of facing the consequences for his actions.”

Suicide and murder? Hmm, this might be more interesting than Anima had ever thought. Even she was starting to think about looking up that school shooting. Hell, she was still researching the topic when there was a knock on the door.

“They need Anima Hatsune to see the nurse’s office,” a girl’s familiar voice, some office worker, told the teacher.

Mrs. Mol pushed a strand of wavy auburn hair out of her pale white face and looked over at the condemned with her dark abyss brown eyes and told her to go to the nurse’s office.

“What does nurse want to see you for?” Kishi asked in a hushed whisper.

“I have no idea!” Anima answered, internally panicking.

“I don’t know why either. You don’t look sick,” Avery said.

That was the trouble; Anima wasn’t sick. So why did the school nurse want to see her? She had to think over. She didn’t take her medication during school hours, and she wasn’t on her period. So, what was up? Unless… no, it couldn’t be. She followed the office worker to the nurse’s office, which was a small peach room right across from the front office.

“I hope you get to feeling better soon,” the familiar girl’s voice said to Anima, walking behind her from a notable distance in case Anima exploded or some shit like that.

Anima turned around and saw-

McKenna Suzuki! That bitch! Anima turned around and tried to see her again, but when she actually did, McKenna was gone. It was as if she had disappeared into thin air. Damn it. Anima sighed and turned to the nurse’s door, reluctantly knocking it.

“Just a minute,” an unfamiliar old woman’s voice cracked through the door. It took about five minutes for the door to open with an old white woman with curly, graying, light brown hair and ordinary green eyes. “Are you Anima Hatsune?”

Anima nodded. “You said you needed to see me for something?”

“Yes. Ms. Henderson said something about your eyesight being a little blurry.”

Oh, so that was it. Henderson ratted her out! That sneaky little snitch!

The nurse, whose name turned out to be named Nurse Hunter, gathered some basic information about Anima and her health and asked if she had any other symptoms other than the words on the boards being blurry. Anima shook her head, not remembering any other symptoms other than not being able to see for shit.

“Okay, Anima. I want you to stand at that little black x at the doorway, and I’ll point to the letters on the this eye chart. I want you to read the letters the best that you can, alright?” Nurse Hunter said.

Anima nodded and walked towards the open doorway. Nurse Hunter picked up a long black stick and pointed to the second row of letters.

“Alright, Anima. Can you tell me what those two letters say?” Nurse Hunter asked.

That was easy. “F, P.”

“That’s right!” Nurse Hunter slid the stick down to the next row. “And how about these letters?”

“T, O, Z.”

Nurse Hunter nodded and slid the stick down to the next row. That one took a little bit of time for Anima, but she eventually found her way. “L, P, E… D?”

Anima’s remaining confidence dwindled during the next few rows. “P… E… O… P… O? …E… O… P… O… Z… P? Eh… P… eh, E? L… D… P? Z… O?”

Nurse Hunter only nodded and said rather quietly, “You did just fine, Anima. Sit in that chair next to me while I call your guardians, alright?”

Anima sat in the tiny leather black chair next to the nurse’s desk as Nurse Hunter called her guardians, who only turned out to be Katja. But that didn’t mean that Anima had to be happy about the news she was receiving- that she needed glasses to wear to see shit. Anima could already see shit, especially when they were up close to her. It wasn’t like she was completely blind or some shit like that, was she? By the time Anima returned to class, school was almost over.

“What did the nurse want to see you for?” Kishi asked as she was saving her assignment in Photoshop.

“Apparently, I need glasses,” Anima mumbled almost too lowly to be understood or heard.

Almost, but not quite. “What did you say?” Kishi asked, leaning over in Anima’s view.

“The nurse said I need-” Oh, never mind!

…

     “Oi, did anyone hear about that school shooting in Connecticut?” Ryan asked during Group Time.

Yes, everyone did, in fact, hear about that school shooting Connecticut. Anima was especially sick of hearing about it because she had bigger things to worry about.

“Yes, we’ve all heard about the school shooting,” Tessa answered, a little more irritably than usual because she had to study for finals, “And if this country isn’t going to implement stricter gun control laws after this, I don’t know what kind of shooting will.”

Well, damn. “That’s a little pessimistic, isn’t it?” Kishi asked.

Tessa shrugged. “Welcome to America,” she simply said.

“I don’t see why the fuck we’re talking about school shooting when we’ve got bigger shit to worry about!” Anima stated, “Like, what about a school nurse telling you that you need glasses when you can see things perfectly fine?!”

Everyone in the YouChannell Home gasped, from very quiet to very audible gasps.

“See, kids? This is the beginning steps to becoming a sociopath!” Ryan exclaimed loudly, almost shouting at the top of his lungs.

This time, there were more audible gasps.

“Ryan, sit down and don’t speak unless you have permission,” Greg said sternly.

“Yeah, this whole thing is getting to be quite ridiculous!” Tessa added.

But did Ryan keep his big fucking mouth shut? Hell no. “Right, my bad. What I meant to say is that this is the beginning steps to becoming a FUCKING, let me spell it out for you, F-U-C-K-I-N-G, sociopath!” he exclaimed, walking up to Anima’s chair, “And this is the beginning steps to becoming a school-”

And that was when Anima gave Ryan a swift kick in the balls- a hard, swift kick in the balls.

“Ow, fuck!” Ryan screamed in agony, holding his balls and falling onto his knees, bending over and trying not to cry out.

All the boys winced; Niklas even pulled his legs up to his chest to cover up his balls. Greg quickly grabbed a bag of ice to put on Ryan’s balls and guided the poor bastard to the couch while Katja promptly grabbed Anima’s hand and dragged her into the Vent Room.

“Anima, I did not appreciate the fact that you kicked Ryan in the groin,” Katja firmly stated.

Anima shrugged and rolled her eyes. “So? Fucker deserved it.”

“Ryan did not deserve to be kicked in the groin as hard as you kicked him,” Katja argued, “I don’t appreciate the fact that he called you a sociopath and a school shooter, but we have better ways of solving those issues.”

“Like what?! Putting on some black-framed hipster glasses and letting everyone else call me a school shooter and accuse me of listening to Marilyn Manson and playing violent video games and eating Doritos and drinking Mountain Dew like some fucking nerd or some shit?! Because that’s really all I need nowadays, right?! To be even more of a fucking Asian stereotype and-” Anima couldn’t think of anything else to say, so she fell down onto a red beanbag chair and stared into space.

Katja lowered herself to Anima’s level and asked gently, “Is this still about the school nurse telling you that you need glasses?”

Anima indignantly looked up at Katja. How would she know?

“Listen, Anima. Getting glasses isn’t such a big deal. At least, it shouldn’t be a big deal. Glasses are just a way for you to see things better, and if somebody bullies you for that, then that’s their problem, not yours. And if you don’t think you would like glasses, we can always try contact lenses.”

Contact lenses? Why hadn’t Anima thought about that?

“Of course, you’ll have to put them into your eyes and remember to take them out to take a shower and before you go to bed. Not to mention the fact that leaving them in for too long can make your eyesight even worse-”

Anima heaved a loud and gusty sigh. Katja made contacts sound like the world’s biggest pain in the ass, even worse than glasses. Anima sighed again.

“Are you ready to apologize to Ryan now?” Katja asked.

Anima sighed through her nose and rolled her eyes. She didn’t have a choice, did she? She took Katja’s hand and walked into the living where she saw Ryan still lying on the stuffy orange couch with a bag of ice on top of his balls and Greg sitting on the floor next to him.

“Anima has something to say to you,” Katja told Ryan. She looked over at Anima and asked what she “wanted” to say it.

Anima looked down at the floor for a few minutes and looked over at the now empty living room, assuming that Group Time had happened without her. Then she looked over at Ryan and mumbled, “I’m sorry for kicking you in the balls.”

Ryan barely nodded and adjusted the bag of ice on his balls.

“Ryan, do you have anything to say to Anima?” Greg asked him.

“What the fuck do I have to say to her? I didn’t even do anything-”

“I’m sure you have something to say,” Greg interrupted.

Ryan sighed loudly and glared at Anima. “I’m sorry for calling you a school shooter,” he mumbled irritably.

“Thank you two very much for apologizing. We’re very proud of you two,” Katja said.

“Why don’t you two help us cook dinner for tonight?” Greg suggested.

That sounded like a craptactular idea, but since Ryan was pretty much recovered and Anima was out of the Vent Room, they didn’t seem to have much of a say but to follow the two grown-ups into the kitchen to cook dinner.

Overall, twenty-eight people, including the gunman, died on the 14 of December 2012 in Newtown, Connecticut.

<– Previous Chapter                                                                                                Next Chapter –>