The Serpents of Arakesh Read Online Free

smile on my face until I read the comment at the end of the story, and felt my face drop as the smile dissolved away into nothing.
    This assignment required a factual account, not a flight of fancy. Yet another shoddy piece of work. Fail. See me.
    I felt like I’d been punched in the stomach. A hot wave of humiliation swept over me. My face burnt and my ears had that ringing feeling they get after they’ve been boxed.
    Miss McCracken was standing up at the front of the class, smiling and talking, nice as pie. ‘Top mark went to Nicole, for a sensitive and well-constructed five-page essay. It isn’t often I award 95%, so well done, Nicole. I’ll be asking you to read your autobiography to the class shortly.
    â€˜First, though, I would like you all to review the comments I’ve made, and reread your work in the light of my remarks.’
    The smile disappeared and her face tightened.
    â€˜Adam Equinox, I will see you now. And bring your book with you.’
    I slouched up to her desk, the exercise book dangling from my hand. I couldn’t believe that for a second I’d felt proud of my story. Didn’t I know better by now?
    Miss McCracken looked at me and sighed. ‘Adam, surely even you must see that this simply isn’t good enough?’ She licked one finger and snapped the pages over till she came to my story. ‘Just look at it. A complete dog’s breakfast. Look at the spelling — when you can read it, that is. For goodness sake, you have a dictionary! And all of seven lines long. You simply don’t try. You have no self-respect, no drive to succeed. You …’
    â€˜Still,’ I muttered, ‘you’ve got no right to call my work shitty.’
    â€˜What?’
    â€˜You’ve got no right to call my work shitty! It’s OK for kids to say that kind of thing, but teachers are supposed to be different!’ I was talking loudly now — almost shouting. I felt really, really mad. It was just so unfair!
    Miss McCracken had gone pale and moved behind her desk. ‘Adam, I didn’t call your work …’
    â€˜Yes, you did!’ I yelled. ‘Look!’ I stabbed the word with my finger. ‘Here it is, right here. Yet another shitty piece of work! And you say I don’t try! How do you know whether I try or not? You don’t care about me or my shitty work — all you care about is giving high marks and gold stars to the people who write five pages!’
    I was really yelling now. I felt great! I picked up my book and shoved it under her nose. She recoiled as if it might bite her. ‘You know how much I care about you and your red pen?’ I grabbed the book in both hands. ‘This much!’ With a twist of my wrists, I ripped the book in half. It felt wonderful. I dropped the two halves on her desk.
    There was a long, awful silence.
    I could feel every pair of eyes in the room on me, but I didn’t look round. Miss McCracken and I both stared down at the pieces of exercise book lying on her desk. And all of a sudden I didn’t feel so great. Slowly, I looked up at Miss McCracken. Her face was deadly white, with bright pink blotches high up on both cheeks, as if she’d been slapped. To my horror I could see tears in her eyes. Worst of all, she looked … almost afraid.
    I stood there with my head sunk between my shoulders like the stupid, dumb, ugly ox Geoffrey said I was. And I plodded after Miss McCracken to the Principal’s office without another word.

    I spent lunch time taping my book together and rewriting my story, checking every single word in the dictionary. It took the whole hour. The problem with dictionaries is that you need to know how the word is spelt before you can look it up.
    For once, I didn’t mind. More than anything I just wanted to be by myself. I felt tired and sad and sick to my stomach. I didn’t eat the peanut butter sandwich or the apple Cook had packed for my