By Anya
Hi. I’m Jennifer Rowly. My father is Peter K. Rowly, working as the president. My mother is Yessica Ann Rowly. After hearing my father’s job, you won’t belive
my mother’s.
The palace tailor.
It’s because she likes dressing up. Her partners, Annika and Milly, are ever so grateful, because when my mother became tailor, their very drab workroom
became a whole building.
I go to the best school, Red Velvet Education. Only a few other children go to that school because of it’s price. Some megarich people and some
governor or celebrity kids.
It’s pickup car is a limo, and it’s canteen is as big as a food court.
Everyone is a show off. But I have 3 modest friends. Charlene Abigail, a child singer, Ima Prasasti Nur
who is the child of an Indonesian embassador, and Rick Karl, cousin of the queen’s uncle.
But Ima (read Eeema) is too proud of her hometown, Jakarta.
***
The grandfather clock announces 11 o’clock, but I’m not even in bed.
I work hard, snipping at raw edges of the photo. The photo of me and Miss Kyle, my teacher who moved schools last week.
I dip my brush into the pot of glue, then sprinkle glitter all over the edges of the photo.
My tongue sticks out of the corner of my mouth as I glue it on a piece of poster paper. “Miss Jennifer, why are you still awake?” Ellen,
my carer, asks.
“Uhh...busy,” I mutter.
“Alright, I shall make some hot chocolate,” she says, walking out.
My room is 5x7 meters. It has an airconditioner and a little tv. Mum doesn’t want to give me a proper 20 inch one, because
she says I shouldn’t even be watching it.
I refused to have any creepy paintings that have eyes that follow you, so instead there are rainbows and stars stuck on my walls.
Dad told someone to paint the roof with a sunset. It looked so beautiful, but sometimes I wouldn’t wake up because I thought it was still afternoon.
Anyway, it was Dad’s idea!
I have a baby sister called Isla. She has a sweet face, tiny cheeks that look full of grapes, and little fists that curl around my fingers.
I finish the drawing and smile. I can’t wait to send it to Miss Kyle!
By the time Ellen comes, I’m tucked in my bed, dreaming about sipping a hot chocolate.
***
I wait beside the guard, waiting for the pickup car. I see in movies that Dad watches, the kids chase a big yellow bus and pile in, talking loudly and happily.
It’s very different when the limo arrives, it stops sharp in front of me and the door opens. I step in, trying to be quiet and prim. Other kids sit straight, wearing black like spies.
Huh....next stop is Ima’s at Green Fielding Luxury Estate. Then it’s Rick’s at Green Country Estate. THEN Charlene at Angelo Park. Huhh...
***
Charlene steps into the limo, wearing a purple hood and green gloves. A very different fitting to the other children. But Charlene has round blue eyes and golden hair.
She also has a beautiful smile.
Rick rolls his eyes, taking in Charlene’s clothing. “Girls these days. They...” he stops short as Georgine Frost glares at him irritably.
Ima is busy reading her History book, getting ready for Miss Beri’s test.
Ima has blackish red hair and a flat nose. She is always saying R too long, but her English is perrrrfect. Heh..
Me? Hazel eyes, brown fringe, and lumpy nose. Oh, and I am very, very FRECKLY.
But noone dares to tease me. Not because I’m the president’s daughter, but because I can REALLY punch.
Once, a boy called Benny called me “potatoe” but he ended up being the “mashed” potatoe.
AND no teachers dared to give me detention!
***
After class, we go into the canteen. I get a chicken drumstick and mango juice, and Ima has a “nasi goreng” and “tape ketan”.
I don’t know how exactly how an “Indonesian Foods” table appeared in the corner of the canteen, but Ima says that her prayer to God was answered.
Rick has fries and a Coke, so I’ll be waiting for him to scream like a pregnant woman in Mr Pete’s class.
Charlene is always elegant, so she has a salad with french dressing and a tall glass of mineral water.
She can only say, “Tch tch tch” when her eyes focus on our greedy helpings.
While we eat our delicious food, suddenly the emergency alarm rings. We all leave our lunch and run to class.
“What’s wrong?” I ask when Rick comes back from looking out.
“Robber,” he whispers in horror. “The robber’s hitting Mr Richard.”
I feel angry. “I’ll show him!”
Ima and Charlene hold me back, “No. Don’t.”
But I don’t listen. I grab a beanie from the spare clothing rack and rip two holes in the fabric. I see Catherine Monument glare at me, but I don’t care.
Everyone hides behind the big table when the door opens with a crash.
A man wearing black clothing stares at me through two slits in black.
Good thing I wore black “like a ninja”!
“Whut?” I say, making a fake accent. “The school’s bin rubbed, bud. Me and me pals, yer know. En I got a pistol!”
I take Ricky’s toy gun (which looks real) and aim it at him. I know I could be killed. I know my life could end at the dull shot of a pistol. But I stay still.
Suddenly, I hear a moan.
Great! Rick needs to go to the toilet. He stumbles out from behind the table. He points to the hole on his blouse. It was there since year 3, but
I don’t need to tell the robber that.
But I see blood there. Trying to hold my position, I say to the robber, “I just shot dat guy. Yer wanna be next, matey?”
The robber looks scared. He doesn’t have any weapons. He looks back at Rick, who is clutching his chest and crying.
Then the robber runs away, out the school.
A few seconds go by. “YAY!” everyone screams, hugging me. Why aren’t they concerned about Rick? I break the crowd and hurry to my buddy.
Rick is grinning!
“Whew,” he says.
Then Ima explains that Rick saw me get his gun. Suddenly, his stomach hurt, so he dabbed it with Ima’s “sambal” that was still on the plate she brought to class!
And because his stomach REALLY hurt, he cried. That was basically how I lived!
Thanks to Ima and Rick being greedy, then Ima brought her plate of “sambal”, Rick had a stomach ache from eating junk food. Then because of their clever idea,
I’m not being rushed to hospital!
That night, I tell everything to everyone. And you know what? I’m in the newspaper.
Whoops, gotta go, the 7 o’clock news are going to interview me!
Well, this is Jennifer Rowly, over and out!
