Yellow has disappeared.

Yellow was my color; no one could ever take it from me. My room was yellow, my water bottle was yellow, and even my pens were yellow. I lived for yellow; my friends knew it, my teachers knew it, and I even felt my guinea pig knew it, too.

I went to school feeling as yellow as I could be. My new yellow backpack swished through the hallways. Heads turned, and I felt amazing. I walked into my science class, beaming with pride. I looked directly at my best friend, but she wasn’t smiling. She, along with many other classmates, looked rather foiled and dismayed.

I tried to cheer them up. “Look, guys!” I enthusiastically uttered, “I got a new yellow backpack.” “I don’t see anything,” said one of my classmates, dazed. I pointed at my backpack eagerly and grinned. My friends shook their heads and walked away. I asked Tara, my lab partner, but she paused for a moment. “ You FoRgOT the PrOJeCT wE HaVE BeEN wOrKiNg On fOr The past 2 MONTHS,” she vented. I stared straight into her eyes as I pulled out the project in my yellow backpack. “Seeeeeeeeeee?” I bitterly exclaimed.

“You just pulled that out of thin air!” she exclaimed. I dumped the rest of the contents into my bag. She pinched herself, poked me, and then shut up. Everyone around me just stared and turned away. Tara and I slowly presented our ecosystem project. I tugged on Tara’s yellow sweater when it was her turn to speak, but she flinched away.

During writing time, I used my favorite yellow pen to write my essay. I proudly turned it in, but Mrs. Trelawney sneered, “This is blank…?” I looked her dead in the eyes and read out every word on that paper. She sighed, wrote a D and “Try using words next time,” and slapped the paper back into my hands. I silently cursed under my breath and stomped out of her classroom.

As I angrily marched out of school, I contemplated what had gone wrong that day. Everyone avoided me. Someone even called me an egghead. I swished my beautiful blonde-yellow hair around and skipped home.