The Band Director Conspiracy: Take II (Plus Sharpies)

As I have said before, caffeine brings out the worst in people.

I consumed a rather large amount as I walked home from band practice earlier.

This made me thing back over the incidents concerning band that had occurred in the past week.

I am a very laid back person, so when he, the band director, placed me in third flute, more out of spite than ability, I let it slide. After all, I still had to survive another year after this with him. (My junior high goes up to ninth grade.)

I was even at peace enough to turn the other cheek as be cut me out of all the good parts of the one of the selections for the concert, even though I was one of the few who could play them correctly.

He was pushing his luck as he later openly insulted my in front of the entire band, and he knew it.

But then he went even further.

As many know, my younger sister is innocent blood in this feud. But he sees her as fair game.

It was still early first period when one of my friends in the clarinet section came up to me.

"You're sister looked pretty upset during sectionals this morning," she had said.

I tilted my head in confusion. After all, she was one of the better people in the section, and an earlier line up had put in at the very front of second clarinet, something that made me overjoyed with pride.

"He placed her in the last chair," my friend said solemnly.

I could feel my face burning and my anger welling.

I knew of the hostility that my sister had faced when she first entered the band, but this one just uncalled for. He had no right.

I sat quietly for the rest of that day, and all through after school band practice, venting my aggression through glares of daggers.

As I walked home, my anger turned itself into vivid fantasy.

He would be at school early the next day, and no one would be around for an hour or so. My athame would do the job well enough, and there was a spare tube case in the bunker. No one would notice the body for at least a week or two, long enough for me to formulate an alibi...

My train of though was interrupted by a scream of "Sharpies!!!" by my younger sister.

Mom came up to be and placed three Sharpie Minis in my palm. "These are yours sweetie," she said as she brushed a red strand from my face.

All of my evil thoughts were pushed from my mind. Peace fell over me again, and all was good.

P.S. ((I have already named them. Lala(turquoise), Dhoom(purple), and Blinky(pink highlighter).))