Report Card..... :(

Guess what...
I got my report card the other day.....
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AND I GOT STRAIGHT A'S!!!!!!!!!!!

Yay me. Woo hoo.
I know.
Yeah. hmmm.
Read this story that I wrote so you won't be bored.

Georgia opened her eyes that ordinary, humid Tuesday morning with no knowledge that today was going to be a very special, if not horrifying, extremely long and confusing day. She dragged her exhausted self into the sticky-floored bathroom and pulled the water faucet all the way around until it wouldn’t budge any more, on the bright red line. As she took off her sweat-soaked pajamas, Georgia thought about her goals for the day. First-off, she was half-way through the 6th grade, and taught by the most gruesome and cruel teacher in the whole school, Mr Darnshniger. He was so ancient that his students sat up in their chairs every time he coughed a dusty, weak cough, with high hopes that he would collapse and they would be able to get out of school early. He had terrible, flaky dandruff, although he hardly had hair. His breath smelled like moldy chicken with a mixture of bad soy milk, and he gave almost all the students an F for basically no reason at all.Secondly, she had a vollyball game after school that should last at least an hour and a half at the least. Then after oboe practice, an excess amount of math homework, and walking the dog, she would most likely have enough spare time to watch her absolute favorite tv show, Pearl Earrings. Georgia stepped into the steaming, boiling, volcano like running water and gasped, quickly turning the water to warm.It took her about 10 minutes to shower, but that was a record in Georgia World. Georgia plucked a comb from the cupboard to the right of the mirror and began to sort out her tangled mass of dripping hair.But as she got a good look at her face in the mirror, Georgia froze, her hand tightening on the comb handle, her eyes widening slightly. It’s amazing how a person’s looks can change so abruptly as their age increases. But before now, Georgia had never noticed a difference in her looks. Well, maybe a few times a year when she actually has a chance to open her scrap-book that her crafty mother had put together; her chubby baby years, pre-school, kindergarten, 1st grade, and so on. She thought it was funny for some random reason how she hardly looked anything like the time she was in 3rd grade. But this was something. Her hair was thinner, shorter, and blonde! When had she dyed her hair blonde? Georgia thought she recalled being a brunette yesterday.Her fingernails were long and painted bright pink. Huh? Georgia hated painting her fingernails. And she especially despised the color pink. The only reason she knew she was herself was the huge birthmark on her jaw, the long, faded pink scar on the palm of her hand, and that her right pinky finger was oddly bent in a crooked way. And this could not be a dream because she had just taken a hot shower, and had felt the heavenly water wake her up. Plus the smell of her shampoo could in no way be imagined. Georgia squinted at this strange person squinting back at her in the foggy mirror, then hurried into her bedroom, slamming the door behind her and leaning against it. And that’s when she got a real good look at her bedroom. Was she in the right place? Georgia did not recognize this room at all. Her walls were literally swallowed by gothic posters, rock bands that she thought 5 minutes ago she hated, and torn jolly-roger pictures appeared more than once. Georgia shakily made it to the closet and picked out the plainest, most modest outfit she could find: a pair of tight skinny-jeans, and a black t-shirt with Korean symbols on it. Georgia slid down the breakable railing like she always did as she entered the kitchen for a boring, “scrumptious” breakfast of oat-bran, just like every other day. “Georgia Wilson! I’ve told you time and time again to stop doing that! You’re grounded, young lady. No going out with Tommy for a whole week!” shrieked her mother, and Georgia’s eyes narrowed in confusion as she took in her mother’s forceful statement. Georgia shrugged. “...Okay.” she replied. At the moment, Georgia didn’t know who in the world Tommy was, so it didn’t bother her that much. Her mother came into the dining room with a bowl of cereal and a piece of buttered toast. Georgia looked at the cold-cereal, expecting oat-bran as usual, but miraculously found some soggy chocolate balls. She looked up at her mother in awe, but that awe erased the moment she saw her mother’s lined face and many gray hairs. Only yesterday, her exuberant face had been smooth and beautiful, and her hair had been long, brown, and shiny.Georgia’s mother caught her eye and frowned. “Don’t complain any more, alright?” she begged, moving swiftly out of the bonds of Georgia’s whines. “Eat that quick, Georgia. School starts in half-an-hour,” her mother said over her shoulder as she left. Georgia glared at the clock, ticking a steady beat on the wall. That couldn’t be right. School started in an hour and 5 minutes. To make sure, she peeked around the corner at the clock on the wall in the kitchen. It was the same exact time. Georgia finished her hearty breakfast, wiping the crumbs off her hands and slinging her assumed book-bag over her shoulder. She watched a few episodes of Spongebob Squarepants before her mom clunked down the stairs in her old pair of high-heels. “Want a ride? Or do you want to take Bobby’s car?” Georgia shrugged, confused, and sat in the passenger seat of her mother’s work car.Her mother took a different route than usual, and then she lurched to a pained stop in front of an enormous highschool that seemed to stretch on for miles. Georgia didn’t get out. “What are we doing?” she asked timidly. Her mother looked at her as if to say, “What the heck is wrong with you?” “Yeah... very funny. Now hurry so I won’t be late.” her mother said back, reaching across Georgia’s lap to open the passenger door. Georgia shook her head. “But this isn’t my school! My school is Mi–” she was cut off suddenly as her mother pushed her out of the car and sped away. Immediately, Georgia was enveloped in a mass of people, all laughing with her and talking with her at once. “So where did Tommy take you last night?” asked a dangerously short girl with natural blonde hair and major braces.Georgia looked at her and shook her head, never her taking her eyes off the girl’s.“I-I don’t know. I can’t r-remember,” Georgia’s lip started to quiver. What was happening? Who were these people? Where was she? Was this a dream?The group of people had guided her into the spooky building, and now they were floating through the halls. “Hey, I’ll save you a seat at lunch,” said the one girl, and she drifted form the group to turn a corner.Georgia felt like crying. She also drifted from the group and wandered for at least 10 minutes before finding a room labeled “Front Office”.She began to pour out her soul to the receptionist, explaining through her tears how she had woken up in the morning, ready for another day of 6th grade, and suddenly she looked like a different person, her room had been given a sad make-over, and her mom had dropped her off at this confusing place.The receptionist shook her head warily, fingering several files.“Sorry, honey. I can’t help. Now you better get to your B1 class before your teacher marks you tardy,”