CNF-"Sloppy"

At first glance, this room looks like a tornado tore through it. Clothes are strewn everywhere, carelessly tossed here and there. The bed is unmade, the sheets and pillows are just scattered all over the bed.

Who lives like this?

The owner of the messy room stepped into the doorway.  She hesitantly enters the room. I look at her appearance, t-shirt with a stain on it, jeans with the bottom of one leg rolled up in that annoying accidental way. The girl’s shoelaces were untied, in fact, she was stepping on them, and her hair was thrown into a messy bun/ponytail up do. She had a frantic look in her eyes. This was the girl I was supposed to be interviewing. Oh boy!

“He, he, hello…” the girl’s voice quivers.

“My name is…” she stutters.

“Sally, my name is Sally.” The girl finally creates a sentence without stumbling through the words.

“Hi, nice to meet you.” I reply.

Sally’s eyes were scanning the room as if she was trying to find something.

“Ok, let’s get this started,” I announce.

We arrive at Sally’s school, and then enter her first period. Sally sits in her chair, and I take the one next to her.

“Hello class,” Sally’s teacher says.

Sally gets out her binder. Her binder is a disaster. Papers are shoved in not even put in the rings, the binder was overflowing. The binder looked like she had every single assignment she ever did stored in there.

I interview her teacher, Mr. Fezland, “What kind of student is Sally?”

“Sally…she’s a mess, honestly. She always comes to school frazzled. Her handwriting is atrocious.”

“RING, RING, RING!” the bell to end class rings, breaking the newly formed silence.

My eyes drift over to Sally. She shoves her papers and pen into her binder, creating more clutter. She then proceeds to shove her binder into her backpack. She rushes out of the room. I stop and talk to a girl from her class.

“Hey, I’m interviewing Sally and I would like to get your thoughts.” “So, what do you think of Sally?’ I question the girl.

“Sally is unfocused. She keeps to herself. Sometimes it seems like she doesn’t really care about things that much,” the girl replies.

“Sally, hey wait up!” I shout trying to get her attention.

“Are you okay?” I ask her.

“I’m fine,” she replies.

“I just don’t like school, and I want it to be over.” she adds.

I sit down on a nearby bench, and motion for her to do the same.

“Tell me the truth, what’s wrong?” I ask her kindly.

“Well, I don’t get along well with people at this school. They are all neat and organized, and I’m not. I’m sloppy, there I said it. People are just rude because I’m sloppy. They treat me like I’m nothing.” Sally confides in me.

“Well, I wont treat you like that. Yeah you’re sloppy but whatever, who cares.” I tell Sally.

Sally heads back to her next class, and I start my story.