Google+ Followers

Saturday, 10 December 2016

OLIVIA OTTER and the mean girl . . . Page 4

When Mother knocked on the door, Olivia didn’t answer.  She was pretending to be asleep, but Mother came in quietly and sat on the bed.

     “Whatever the problem is, you need to talk about it,” said Mother.  “You know you can tell me anything.”

     “No,” said Olivia.

     “I want to help you,” said Mother, gently but firmly, “but I can’t if I don’t know what’s the matter.”

     “You can’t help me,” said Olivia, “and I don’t want to talk
about it.”

     “Now, now, Olivia Otter,” coaxed Mother, her tone lightly teasing, “don't be a clam.”  Patiently, Mother sat for a while softly stroking Olivia’s head.

     “Oh, Mom,” said Olivia, sitting up suddenly, "I hate school!”

     “Last week you said you loved it,” said Mother. “What’s happened?”

     “Emily Eagle sits behind me now,” moaned Olivia.  “She's really mean, and she’s always jabbing me with her nasty talons.”

     “Maybe she just wants to talk to you,” suggested Mother.

     “That’s what I thought,” said Olivia, “so I asked her to play at recess but she said no and flew off with Rhonda Raven. Then after recess she started poking me again.”

     “Did you ask her to stop?”

     “She just laughed and said, ‘Make me!’”

     “Have you told the teacher?” asked Mother.

     “No,” admitted Olivia.

     “Well, I think you should,” said Mother.

      Olivia agreed to give it a try.

(Story by Eleanor;   Illustrated by Nestor)

  Page 1:

     Page 2:

     Page 3: