Glued
Written Summer 2002

     “Augh!” I screamed. It was three o’clock on a cold December night when I woke with a bad dream, and I realized that there was something seriously wrong with my left eye. I couldn’t open it, no matter how hard I tried. I tried and tried, feeling panicked. It was as if someone had glued my eyelashes and stuck them together, like mortar holds together bricks.
     My ten-year-old mind was racing. I had heard of people going blind, but never people having an eye that closed and stayed closed! The other girls woke up to my scream and asked what was going on. I told them, and they didn’t seem too worried, they just shrugged it off and tried to go back to sleep, but that didn’t seem strange to me at the time; I was too focused on my eye. It was as if someone had glued it shut during the night.
     Finally I decided to call Mrs. Chapmen, who was our chaperone for our five night stay in Washington D.C. I dialed the number of her room. The other girls didn’t even try to do anything to help, but at the time I figured that they were just tired. It’s a good thing that I have better vision with my right eye than I do with my left; I could see the numbers I was dialing. When Mrs. Chapmen sleepily picked u p the phone, I explained the problem to her. She had no ideas on what I should do, and I hung up feeling worse than before, if that was at all possible. I’d always thought that adults knew how to fix just about anything; here was a time when one couldn’t.
     I forget whose bright idea it was to use scissors and cut off the tips of my eyelashes, but that was our first idea for getting my eye open. It never occurred to me how dangerous it could be, were the scissors to slip and go into my eye. We came close to actually doing it. We would have, but when Katina was almost cutting, when I saw out of my right eye that the scissors were about to close on my eyelash, I chickened out. I threw her hand away, and that was the end of that.
     Our next idea was to simply splash water on my eye, thinking that maybe that would work, but we were wrong. Water did nothing to help.
     We tried idea after idea, plan after plan, and nothing worked. I ended up walking around with one eye shut until my eyelashes finally opened on there own a little more than a day later.

     From that time until I got home, I had no idea what had caused my eye to get like that. It was the Monday after I got back to Florida, when I was home sick (I had gotten sick waiting in line for the White House tour in the cold and the rain with no coat), that I noticed Amber. Amber was my stuffed orange tabby cat, which I had been using for a pillow that night. Around the ear and the top of the head of my stuffed cat was something hard, like dried glue. While I was trying to tug it off, I remembered what had happened that night.
     Katina and my other two roommates had been painting their nails, but along with nail polish and nail polish remover, Katina and the others had had out a bottle of nail glue. I had seen how strong nail glue was from my mother using it, and I knew what it felt like dry, all hard and clear. I figured out that that was what was on Amber and me.
     It was just the kind of thing Katina would do. That girl, she was a popular kid, interested in clothes, makeup, and teasing the likes of me. I had often been at the wrong end of her jokes, and she was always trying to get me in trouble. Maybe she was just jealous; I never got in trouble, and Mr. Neisel even used to brag about me; that could be a reason for her actions. I didn’t know anything about the other girls, I didn’t even know their names the whole time we were on the trip, and of course I didn’t know their personalities, but Katina is the kind of person who can persuade just about anyone to do just about anything. They could easily have been a part of it.
     I told my mother, and, after questioning me to the full extent of her ability, she marched me right down to Silver Ridge, Amber in hand, even though I was quite sick. We went straight to the principal’s office to talk to her. We told Mrs. Gundling what had happened, and she called in Katina. My mother and I went to wait outside in the mail part of the main office, thankfully, since I couldn’t bare the thought of facing Katina.
     When Mrs. Gundling called us back in, I couldn’t believe what she was saying. Katina had told her that the girls were doing a project with Elmer’s glue, and she believed them! Why in the world would they be using Elmer’s glue in the middle of the night? I had proof of what had happened to m e, Amber still had some glue on her and Mrs. Gundling could have even called Mrs. Chapmen, she had seen my eye. It wasn’t fair, those girls got away unpunished! Neither my mother nor I ever trusted Mrs. Gundling again.
     Nothing really changed between Katina and me, except that I disliked her and what she does more than ever. She kept up all her teasing and tricks and all that, as if the Washington trip was just as ‘harmless’ as any of the other things she has done. All I could do was try to stay away from her, not that it worked. I kept on her bad side all the way until sixth grade, and after that I never saw Katina Picado again.





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