KUPy

There was a girl, eleven, who went to my school. She was perfect. All of her grades were straight A’s. She was on the softball team-the pitcher. She lived in the house next door to me, a big one, painted bright pink, with pretty window boxes filled with flowers that came up every year. She always wore perfect white sweaters, soft and fluffy, and powder blue capris, with perfect white tennis shoes. All the teachers loved her. She smiled and never said a word out of place. She never did anything out of line. Everything they told her to do she did without question. We hated her. She was prissy and never really talked. She didn’t go to