Another Day Another Person



Hello, I’m Marta Pennington and as my parents say, “Your life is a jewel and you’re the center.” That basically means my life is perfect. I live with my mother and father in a big house off the coast of the pacific ocean. I go to a top priority private school with kids who need special attention, whether we are really smart or have some trouble. I have wonderful parents that love me with all their heart, while I try to be their perfect daughter. There are some kids at my school who are really mean like Amira, she doesn’t try in school and she is always complaining, which I find perfectly crude. I don’t think I could ever understand her.

Chapter 1: Marta

This day, like any other day, was wonderful, but a thousand times more wonderful. I could not stand the suspense of finding out who my teacher would be. I was so excited that I woke up at 5:00 which is an hour earlier than usual. Who your teacher is shapes your entire future. If you get a good teacher (which I always do) you learn a lot, then that knowledge may come in handy on your S.A.T’s. If you use your results to get into a great college, boom! You have your whole future shaped out in front of you.

When I found out who my teacher was I raced into the house. I really wanted Miss Sweet.

“Hey honey, who is your teacher?” asked mother when I got inside.

“Miss Sweet,” I replied ecstatically.

“It’s like we always say,” said father walking into the room. “Your life is a jewel and you’re in the center.” I giggled, my family made my life even more perfect.

Chapter 2: Still Marta

The first day of school is always the best. In school I am top of my class. Sadly my class is very small. On the first day of school Miss Sweet asked if she could speak privately with me. I (of course) consented.

“Marta, I need you to go down to the lower classrooms and help out a girl named Amira. She needs special attention. Can you tutor her in math when we have math class since you take a math class at the high school?” she asked.

“I’d love to,” I said. Yes I may not like her but everybody needs to be given a chance.

The next day before math class Miss Sweet looked at me with those gorgeous blue eyes, and said, “I think it is time to go Marta.” I looked at the clock. Dang it! I was almost late.

“Yes Miss Sweet, I believe it is. Thank you for your concern. It is deeply appreciated”, I said. I always try to sound as sophisticated as Miss Sweet. Then I got up from my desk and walked out of the of the classroom.

The students who have problems with things such as learning, have their own “special” classroom dedicated to helping. Normally I think that it is better to die than step foot in the lower classrooms. Anyway I walked in and I thought that I had walked into kindergarten. There were bean bag chairs and clipboards instead of desks and hard chairs, there wasn’t a single educational poster in the room, and the worst of all they were making paper airplanes while their teacher Mrs. Hellion yelled. I went back outside shut the door and knocked as hard as I could. Then walked back inside this time everyone stared at me with wide open eyes. While I walked toward Mrs. Hellion I could hear whispers all around me like a thousand little bees buzzing all around.

“Isn’t that Marta?”

“She shouldn’t be here.

“I hear she is the smartest kid in the school.”

“Doesn’t she go to high school for math or something?”

I ignored all of this they weren’t important enough to make gossip about me. “Mrs. Hellion, I am here to tutor Amira.” I said her name with such disdain I was afraid that Mrs. Hellion would detect it.

“Ah yes, this way. Amira is a handful. I thought a child her age would help more than I can,” she said hinting she didn’t like Amira either.

When I sat down with Amira her scowl looked like it was permanently etched on her face. She was as thin as a stick with a pale pinched face. I smiled and said, “Well Amira, since we are going to work together for a long time we might as well get to know each other.”

“We both know you’re just doing this to impress somebody so why bother.”  I was deeply offended but swallowed my pride and tried to continue talking as if nothing had happened.

“I’m trying to help you, because let’s just say I didn’t exactly want to come in at all today. Everyone including you deserves a second chance.”

After days of trying to help I decided to quit. Normally I’m not a quitter but you have not seen her when she gets angry. She is a monster (all I said was, “In Miss Sweet’s classroom you actually learn things you were supposed to learn in sixth grade not third.” Is that mean?), and after our last fight I was at my wit’s end. I hate Amira. I tried to give her a chance, because I’d hate to judge her too fast, but Amira blew it. I was right, I’ll never understand Amira.

Chapter 3 Amira

I was woken up today by the piercing sound of two pots being banged together. I’m never woken up by anything but my alarm clock’s tuneful song. I looked around confused, and I realized I wasn’t in my bedroom with my four poster bed and my lovely pink velvet curtains. I was in a small closet, the ones that are infested with spiders and other creepy crawlies. Gross!

“Amira, are you going to get up? You have school, baby.”

Wait back up, who did she just call me? Oh and who is talking to me? This had to be a dream, and anyways since I can control my dreams I’ll be fine, might as well “get up.”

When I got up I was amazed and horrified by my dream. It was so realistic, but I didn’t know if I’d ever seen anything so dirty and small. The walls were covered in something that could’ve easily been mold or mildew, the rugs were threadbare, and the windows were grimy.

“Oh good yer up my little Fuzzykins.” I looked up and saw a young woman in her late twenties. Was this woman a mom? She couldn’t have been more than eighteen when she had me or possibly Amira.

“Er mom?” I asked.

“I know, I know, don’t call you Fuzzykins,” she said sighing.  

“No thats not it all. I was wondering where’s Amirr- my dad?” The second I asked I knew I shouldn’t.

“ Oh Amirrikins you know the man is in jail,” Amira’s mom said. Then her face became the victim of a downpour.

“Just go to school,” she called in between sobs as she ran away. What? In jail? I didn’t know that poor Amira. I decided to get to school even though my head was crowded with thoughts.

I got to school on time and sat at my normal desk in Miss Sweet’s classroom


“Ummm Amira, sweetie, you aren’t in this class and that is Marta’s desk.” I wanted to shout “I am Marta,” but thought better of it. This was starting to feel more and more like real life and less like a dream every minute. The whole class laughed and my face felt red with embarrassment. No one had ever laughed at me before.

“Class stop laughing and Amira please go to see Mrs. Hellion. You’re missing school hours.” I hung my head and left the class. My class is nice. They would never laugh at anyone. Oh well at least the kids in Mrs Hellion’s class would be nicer to Amira. I was thinking so hard I rammed into a wall and a couple of 7th graders laughed. Wait this couldn’t be a dream. I just felt that wall. It was hard, bumpy, and hurts people. How did I become Amira? Maybe I’m hallucinating, or delirious or something. It can’t be logical to be able to turn into someone else, especially without your knowing. Without realizing it I’d just walked into Mrs Hellion’s classroom.

“Ah Amira, you’ve finally joined us. Did you disturb anyone else today on your rampage through the school?” asked Mrs Hellion. She couldn’t do that. I thought that I’d read somewhere that teachers cannot cruelly tease their students.

I seated myself at myyyy- Amira’s desk, my head swarming with thoughts.

In jail for what? Her mother is like what 29? I am Amira?!

“Amira, Amira,” said a sharp voice I looked up to see Mrs Hellion.

“Yes?” I asked. What did she want?

“I wanted you to answer my question, what is 5×10.”

Uh oh, I knew this easy, but if I answered it like Marta then people would get suspicious, but I didn’t want to give Amira a bad grade. She had been through enough.

“As I see Miss Hoolie (that is Amira’s last name) cannot answer the question in under a minute, ah Rebecca, what about you?” said Mrs Hellion.

“5×10 equals fifty,” said Rebecca, obviously excited to please.

I had a long day of sitting alone at lunch, being bullied by friends, and Mrs. Hellion giving snide comments. I was walking out of school, kids were talking together on the school stairs telling each other secrets and problems no doubt. I felt awful for me, err, Amira. She didn’t have a friend she could talk to about her family situation or to laugh with. I was done with being Amira. She was such an unfortunate girl. If I went back to being Marta Pennington I would become friends Amira and tutor her. I’d help her mother and her get back on their feet. I wanted to help Amira.   

Chapter 4 Back to Marta

After a blinding flash of light and a rather painful transformation back, I was me again, Marta Crystal Pennington, daughter of John and Lisa Pennington. I wondered where Amira was when I was her. Was she me!?  I knew I must find Amira. I wanted to help her. I felt awful. I thought she was the bully when all along it was people like me who were quick to judge.

    “Amira!” I cried giving her a huge hug.

“Gerroff Marta!” she cried.

“Sorry I’m just so happy to see you!”


“Well lets just say I know what is like to be like you and I am sorry.”

“Okay, then are you feeling alright? You normally don’t want anything do with me.” I could sense that Amira was trying to keep her hopes low. I had been her for a day so I could tell she really wanted a trustworthy friend, but didn’t want to get stuck with a dead end friend like I was.

“I know you want a friend and I feel awful I was mean to you. I’m sorry.”

“People always let me down but think they can come crawling back to make my life more miserable. What makes you any different?”

“Just let me help you. I know whats going on at home and at school and I just want to be there for you. Let me.”

Finally Amira gave in at this point I guess she thought she had nothing to lose.

“Oh fine, but only because everyone needs a second chance.”

I couldn’t believe it. Amira was joking! I smiled. She did a half smile which was good enough for me.


Amira and I have been best friends ever since. Amira’s mother eventually got back on her feet, and got an awesome job as the head of a very successful business. Amira and her mother moved into a splendid little house with two very grand bedrooms and a fine kitchen with good things always on the oven. I visit Amira often, and was even there when she was told that she’d been moved to the middle class in school. Amira recently told me that her mom was getting married and I am a bridesmaid, Amira is the maid of honor.

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