SashaButters

A/N I hope you like crying Miss Honey stared at the hurt expression in Matilda’s eyes. The moisture in her mouth seemed to all at once disappear. Her stomach began to churn. “S-sweetheart, n-n-no, I’m sorry, but I had to.” Jennifer stammered. Her heart was beginning to race in her chest. “It was just to prove how serious I was, if you really wanted out, it wouldn’t have held you for two minutes.” Matilda still looked doubtful. “Do you want to see how I got out?” Suddenly, the hurt expression was gone as quickly as it had come and in its place was a mischievous smile. Jennifer breathed a sigh of relief. “Go stand outside and lock me in.” Matilda’s eyes widened. “Really?” “Yes, go ahead.” “Umm, can I use the bathroom first?” “Yes, go potty, then lock me in.” “Hmm,” Matilda said before backing out of the room. “No.” Jennifer could see the glint of mischief in her eyes. The door closed, and the lock clicked into place. “I think I’ll lock you in, then go to the bathroom. Be back in a minute!” Jennifer sighed, she supposed she deserved that. Why had she locked the door? Because she wouldn’t have stayed put, Jennifer argued with herself. “Mom, I’m sorry! Please don’t lock me in!” Matilda would have stayed put then. She had gotten the message loud and clear. You should have unlocked it then, not walked away. She could have easily gotten out. That’s not the point! Jennifer winced as she went to her desk, retrieved a small, square object from a cup of pens and stood by the door to wait. A few seconds later she heard Matilda’s voice announcing she was back. “Ready?” “Ready!” Jennifer retrieved the small object from her pocket and held it up to the door with practiced precision. “Up a quarter inch and slide to the right.” she mumbled. She opened the door to find Matilda’s amazed face as if she couldn’t move things herself with her mind. “Woah! How did you do that?” Matilda asked. Jennifer opened her palm. “A magnet?” “Yep, see.” She held it up to the other side of the door where the lock was and slid it back and forth. Matilda watched in awe as the deadbolt went in and out. “Now that I know your secret, you can’t lock me in again!” Matilda said clasping her fingers together. “Muahaha.” “Matilda,” Jennifer said softly before bending down to one knee to look her in the eyes. “I never should have locked you in the room in the first place. I’m sorry, will you forgive me?” “It’s okay,” Matilda said looking sheepish. “I wouldn’t have stayed.” she mumbled. Miss Honey smiled. “I know, you’re a terrible liar.” “I am not!” Matilda said. “I’m your mother, I can see when you’re lying a mile away. You have a tell.” Miss Honey said with a laugh before wrapping her arms around the girl and squeezing tightly. “I do!?” Matilda said with a gasp before resting her head on Miss Honey’s shoulder and returning the hug. “Yes, the moment I signed those papers, it appeared all over your face, just like magic.” Matilda giggled. “No it didn’t!” There was a pause. “What is it?” “I think I’ve revealed enough secrets for one day.” Miss Honey said with a laugh before stopping. “Actually, I think, I think we need to talk.” Matilda hung on as Jennifer carried her back into the room and sat on the bed. “Do you understand why I did what I did?” “You didn’t want me listening in on your private conversation.” Matilda mumbled. “I was being rude.” “It wasn’t to punish you sweetheart, even though you really shouldn’t be eavesdropping. That’s not the point. I wanted to protect you.” “Because I’m little?” Jennifer sighed. “Not just to protect what’s up here.” Jennifer said lightly touching Matilda’s head. “I know you know about things, more things than I wish you did. What most concerns me is here.” She touched the girl's chest. “Your heart. Your innocence.” “I’m not that innocent.” Matilda grumbled. “I know you keep saying that, but, maybe I’m not phrasing this right. Maybe innocence isn’t the right word. Your spirit, yes, that’s it. This has nothing to do with your age, it doesn’t matter if you were ten, fifteen, or even twenty, once your spirit is broken, that’s it. You may never see the world the same way again. You may never be so quick to smile, so easy to make laugh.” “Is that what happened to you? Did the Trunchbull break your spirit?” Matilda asked. “Yes,” Miss Honey whispered, “She did.” “Is there anything I can do to fix it?” Jennifer wrapped her arms around Matilda and squeezed, gently rocking her back and forth before kissing the top of her head. “Every day I get to spend being your mother makes me come alive more and more. I love you more than anything. I never thought I could ever feel this.” “I love you too, mom.” They sat in silence, enjoying the feeling of being in each other's arms, until Jennifer spoke again. “The thing is, I don’t know what I’m doing.” Matilda looked up at her. “What do you mean?” “This whole parenting thing. I don’t know how to be a good parent.” “I think you do.” Matilda said, resting her head back on Miss Honey’s shoulder. “You’re sweet, but I’m serious. Matilda, in the future, I might-no I will make mistakes. Do you know what my biggest fear is?” Matilda thought about it for a minute. “Small spaces?” “No, it’s hurting you. Not here,” Miss Honey tapped her forehead again before moving her hand to Matilda’s heart. “But here.” “You won’t.” Matilda said confidently before frowning in confusion as Miss Honey’s eyes began to water. “I’m scared, Matilda. I’m so scared I’ll cross that line someday. That’s why I wanted to talk to you. I need you to pick a word.” “Huh?” “I want you to pick a word you’ll always remember, and if I ever do or start to do something that hurts you here,” she patted Matilda’s heart again, “you say that word and I promise to stop whatever I’m doing, and we’ll talk about it.” “But, why?” Matilda asked looking puzzled. “Because I never want you to hurt the way I did. I wasn’t raised in a loving home. I may not know what is and isn’t acceptable when the time comes. While I’ll always have your best interests at heart, I worry there will come a time, no matter my intentions, my actions will cause you more harm than good. So pick a word, please.” Jennifer said, stroking Matilda’s head. “Okay, umm, pumpkins.” Matilda said. “So I just say ‘pumpkins’ if you ever start chasing me with a riding crop?” Miss Honey smiled weakly. “If I ever chase you with a riding crop, we may have missed a few signs leading up to it. I can’t promise I won’t use it to chase out the first boy you bring home though.” Matilda giggled as she wrinkled up her face. “Heaven help him if he ever breaks your heart. Straight to the chokey with him!” “Mom!” Matilda said in shock before giggling. “I’m kidding.” “Why are you so scared of hurting me that we need a safe word?” Matilda asked once they had calmed down. “I’m going to pretend you don’t know what that means.” Matilda rolled her eyes. Miss Honey let out a deep sigh. “Because of my genetics.” “Your genetics?” “My aunt wasn’t born a monster, I don’t think. She was turned into one by her father, my grandfather. According to her, well, let’s just say he did some not nice things to her, but treated my mother like a princess. It caused a lot of bitterness and hate to fester inside of her for a very long time. I don’t know what caused him to turn out that way, but I have a feeling this goes back decades.” “Just because she was abused doesn’t give her the right to abuse others.” Matilda said. “Of course not, no one has the right, but there’s this little voice in the back of my head that still worries I’ll wake up one day and realize I’ve become my aunt. There was a time I was also filled with anger and hate.” “Yeah, I saw your notes.” Matilda said. “What notes?” “In the Three Little Pigs, there were scraps of paper inside. I didn’t realize you had such a, uh, colorful vocabulary.” Curious, Miss Honey stood and went to the book case, retrieved the book, and shook its pages. Sure enough, bits of paper began to fall to the floor. She scooped them up, read the first two and audibly groaned. Now she remembered. What was she, like, 12? “It’s when she nailed my window shut. She thought it would make me spend less time in my room and more time cleaning.” “Did it?” “Oh yeah, she cut off my only source of fresh air, and when there’s a bucket of excrement in your room...” “Eww.” Matilda said wrinkling her nose in disgust. “I thought you only had to use it during the night.” “Sometimes I’d be locked in all weekend, and, well, I’ll leave the rest to your imagination. So yeah, there were times I’d scrub the floors by hand with a toothbrush if it meant fresh air.” Among other things. She flipped to the last note and frowned. This wasn’t her writing. She slipped the note in her pocket and crumbled up the other two. She’d show it to Mrs. Rodger’s downstairs later. “Oh, I almost forgot one more hiding place! Want to see?” Matilda nodded her head eagerly. She looked to the chair but decided against it. “I’m going to need your help with this one. Come here. Ready?” She asked when Matilda stood next to her. She picked her up by the waist and hoisted her up to the air vent. “Push up then pull out.” “Mom, what in the world?!” “Pull them all out, but hurry I can’t hold you up like this for much longer.” Suddenly, it began to rain bits of dust, and an odd assortment of television remote controls, wallets, and sets of car keys. “One. Two. Three. Four. Five, jeez mom, six. Seven. That’s all of them.” “So food may not have been the only thing I stole on my nighttime strolls.” Jennifer admitted sheepishly. Matilda eyed all the fallen debris before bursting into laughter. “While I may not have openly defied her, I certainly enjoyed inconveniencing her.” “Can I go show Mrs. Rodger’s all this stuff?” Matilda said with a large smile on her face. “Yes, go for it.” She smiled as Matilda grabbed as much as she could carry and bounded down the stairs. Once Matilda was gone, the smile fell off of Jennifer’s face. She looked at the room one last time before making her way into the bathroom and closing the door behind her. She leaned over the sink as a fresh wave of tears overcame her. Her hands shook as she gripped the porcelain as tight as she could. “Gotta hold it together.” she mumbled to herself. “I can’t let her see.” She stared at her reflection in the mirror, but instead of the twenty- three-year-old staring back at her, it was her 11-year-old self. Jennifer washed her hands again and again and again. Her skin was water logged, and raw, but no matter how hard she scrubbed, they wouldn’t feel clean. Soap wasn’t enough. She reached underneath the sink for the bottle of peroxide. She opened the cap and dumped it on each hand, resisting the urge to scream. Yes, burn away that vile woman’s scent. She shouldn’t have given in. She should have just let her lock her in the cellar. “You scratch my back, and I’ll scratch yours.” Her aunt had told her. “I never wanted my back scratched.” Jennifer now mumbled through her tears. She looked up at her reflection again and let out a horrified scream. She wasn’t alone. “That’s not how I remember it.” Agatha Trunchbull said with a toothy grin. Jennifer let out a terrified whimper. She watched her put her hands on Jennifer’s shoulder, but she felt nothing. She wasn’t there. This wasn’t real! “And I certainly wouldn’t say you never wanted it. Don’t you remember the last time?” “I never wanted it.” Jennifer growled. “I was just a kid.” “You may not have wanted it, but you certainly learned to enjoy it.” Jennifer shut her eyes again as a wave a revulsion tumbled through her. She was going to be sick. “No! Shut up! You’re dead!” “Look at you now, a chip off the old block. Do you enjoy climbing into bed with her?” Jennifer fell to her knees. “No! No! It isn’t like that!” she sobbed. “Does it feel good when you both undress and hold each other?” Agatha whispered into her ear. Jennifer crawled to the toilet and vomited. “Mom? Are you okay?” Matilda asked. “I’m fine, sweetie!” She bit down on her knuckle as quiet sobs racked her body. “Why don’t you tell her how you really feel? How you can’t wait to get her alone tonight and offer to scratch her back.” “No! I’m not you!” Jennifer cried before getting sick again. “Not my daughter.” She moaned. “Not me? You practically stole her from her parents and jumped in bed naked with her. Please tell me how that makes you fit to be her mother? How that makes you not me.” “Mom? Who are you talking to? Are you crying?” “N-no, m-mommy just needs a minute alone.” Jennifer managed to choke out through heaves. She heard Matilda’s footsteps retreat, before a second pair was quickly rushing up the stairs. “Jennifer, is everything all right?” Mrs. Rodger’s asked, but all Jennifer could do was sob. “I’m coming in.” “N-no!” but the door was already opening. She turned her head up to face her aunt, but found she was gone. “Mom!” Matilda was rushing towards her. Jennifer’s heart sank. “Pl-please don’t touch me.” Jennifer moaned. “But mom-” she felt a small hand on her back as another wave of revulsion washed over her. “I SAID DON’T TOUCH ME!” Jennifer threw an arm out to get her away, but ended up pushing her to the ground. Out of the corner of her eye she could see Matilda fall, before scurrying back into the corner. “I-i’m sorry, I didn’t mean to.” “Jennifer,” Mrs. Rodger’s said sounding horiffied at what she had done. “Please. Please.” Jennifer said, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. “Take Matilda to Hortensia’s, and then, if it’s not too much trouble, take me to the hospital. S-s-something’s wrong with me.” She turned her head and stared at Matilda, curled into a ball, staring at her with wet, wide eyes. She was mouthing something. Miss Honey closed her eyes and sobbed. It was pumpkins.

Roald Dahl would tell me not to write books for children xD

Something was going on, it was quite obvious. The question was what. Matilda’s curiosity was killing her. What had Miss Honey found that had upset her so much? What was so bad that they needed to hand it over to the police? Resisting the urge to lay down, despite the bed looking incredibly comfortable at the moment, she had crept out of the room and stood as still as a statue in an attempt to eavesdrop. From her vantage point, she could see Jennifer and Mrs. Rodger’s sitting on opposite couches facing each other. The corner of Jennifer’s bottom lip was bleeding from being gnawed on, her tell-tale sign of distress. Matilda crouched to the floor and silently scooted her way closer to the banister to make out what they were saying. “Jennifer, I know this is a difficult subject, and I apologize if I’m crossing a line by asking this, but-” Mrs. Rodger’s paused. “Were you, did she…?” Her voice dropped to nearly a whisper. Matilda couldn’t hear what was being asked, but she could clearly see Jennifer’s shoulder’s stiffen before going limp. Her head fell forward. “Yes.” “How old were you?” “I think it started when I was around Matilda’s age.” “Jesus, Jen. Didn’t you tell anyone?” “I didn’t know. I’m sorry! I didn’t know it was wrong! I- I- I She…She’d…” Jennifer’s voice was cut off by quiet sobs. Matilda’s heart ached. She could feel moisture in her own eyes. Matilda didn’t know what they were talking about, but she got the distinct impression it wasn’t something she should be listening in on. Whatever it was, whatever had happened, it was bad. Matilda scooted herself back along the hallway, no longer trying to listen in, but hearing their voices just the same. The large house seemed to carry the sounds no matter how quiet they tried to be. If Matilda had wanted to eavesdrop all she had had to do was keep the bedroom door open. “I’m sorry, Jen. Of course you wouldn’t know at that age. None of it was your fault. Shh it’s alright.” “But this is my fault! All of this! It’s not like it only happened when I was little. If I had said something, but I’m such a coward…” “This. Is. Not. Your. Fault. We don’t even know if these kids had been. Just because she had pictures of them… And look, they’re all fully dressed. It’s not like we found pictures of them naked and tied to the bed.” “But they’re in my room! And this boy is clearly crying. Don’t you recognize him?” “Yes,” Mrs. Rodger’s said with a defeated sigh, “I recognize Billy Reyes.” Matilda scrunched up her face. Why did that name sound familiar? “But, Jennifer, look at me. This isn’t your fault. I need you to understand. Matilda needs you to understand. Even if you had spoken up those years ago, they may not have taken your claims seriously. When people hear the words, ‘sexual predator’ and ‘pedophile’, women don’t usually come to mind.” The knot of guilt in the pit of Matilda’s stomach told her one thing. Jenny did not understand. “I think… I’ll go check on Matilda.” Uh-oh. Matilda scurried back into the bedroom as the sound of creaking wooden stairs filled the air. She jumped onto the bed and pretended to be asleep as Jennifer's soft footsteps came closer. Matilda tried to slow her racing heart as the footsteps approached the bed. There was a moment of silence before she felt her shoes getting untied and one by one getting slipped off her feet. Matilda wanted to cringe. How could she have forgotten to kick her shoes off? She opened her eyes just as a figure bent down and pressed their lips to her forehead. “I saw you in the mirror. Try and stay put this time, love. This isn’t something I want you to hear. Can you do that for me?” Miss Honey whispered. Matilda could feel Jennifer’s tears on her face. She sat up, all pretense of sleep gone. “ What’s going on? Who’s Billy Reyes?” “Matilda, please, not this. Please don’t get involved in this.” Miss Honey said, a fresh wave of tears sliding down her face. “I want to preserve your innocence as long as possible.” “Mom, I know what those things were, I lied about thinking they were back massagers. I’m not that innocent. You don’t need to coddle me. ” “I know you did, but if you could, can you keep lying to me for a little while longer?” “I’m sorry,” Matilda mumbled. “For listening in, but how can I support you if I don’t know what’s going on?” She could just see the corners of Miss Honey’s lips curve upward into a painful looking smile. “It’s not your job to support me. All I need from you is to close those eyes and forget this whole thing ever happened.” “But, mom I-.” “No, Matilda, I mean it. Promise me you won’t leave this room until I tell you it’s alright to leave.” Well, Matilda thought, Miss Honey did ask her to keep lying. “I promise.” Matilda mumbled. “That’s a good girl. Now lay back, close your eyes, and it will be time to go home before you know it.” She let Miss Honey tuck her in, and watched as she walked out. Matilda frowned. There was a sudden rattling coming from the other side of the door. She lifted her head off the pillow and stared. No! She wouldn’t! Matilda sprang from the bed and tried the door. “Mom! Please! Don’t lock me in! I’m sorry! I’ll stay put!” Matilda yanked on the door again, but it wouldn’t budge. “I’m sorry.” Came the quiet response. Matilda sighed and pulled one more time before letting out a frustrated groan. Miss Honey knew her too well. Now what? She looked around the room taking in the odd collection of figurines and dolls, before examining the book case. Matilda frowned. They were all children's books. Wasn’t this supposed to be her room until a few years ago? Then why did it look like it still belonged to a little girl? Matilda sighed again before reaching for a copy of Anne of Green Gables from the shelf, but when she pulled it down, something rattled. She shook the book. There it was again. When Matilda opened the book and skimmed the pages she let out a small laugh. About a quarter of the way into the book, the pages had been cut out in the middle, leaving behind a secret pocket containing a lighter, two strange looking cigarettes, and an empty wrapper from a bar of chocolate. Even timid, submissive Jenny had a rebellious side it seemed. She’d have to tell Jenny she found her contraband stash. She picked up one of the cigarettes and sniffed it before wrinkling her face in disgust. Why did it smell like a run over skunk? Was it because the tobacco expired? Now Matilda scanned the room in a new light. What else had rebellious teen Jenny been hiding? She smiled mischievously as she opened every book and turned it upside down. She was disappointed when they revealed nothing. It wasn’t until Matilda shook out a copy of The Three Little Pigs did she see several pieces of paper fall to the floor. She picked them up and read them. I hate you, Aunt Trunchbull. There I said it. I hope you slip and fall on the floors you make me polish. One day, I’ll buy a bus ticket and get as far away from you as I can, you- Matilda’s eyes nearly bugged out of her head at the use of expletives. She had only ever heard her swear once. Matilda didn’t even know she knew that many swear words. Something about knowing Jennifer had at one point had the will to fight gave her comfort. She wondered what had happened to change her. I’ve been in here for three days. Doesn’t anyone realize I’m gone? Three days? Had the Trunchbull really locked her away for days at a time? No wonder she had left hate filled messages in random crevices. Matilda would too if she was trapped in here for days at a time, if not to vent than purely out of boredom. She stuck the notes back in between the pages and set the book back on the shelf. If that was all just in the bookshelf then what sort of goodies was she hiding under the bed? Did she also have “back massagers”? Matilda got on her hands and knees and peeked underneath the bed. A bucket? She used her powers to drag it out before picking it up, hoping it would be full of more contraband, but it was empty. So then why was there a bucket under her bed? It almost reminded Matilda of stories set in the 1800’s where every one had chamber pots under their… “Eww!” Matilda muttered, sending it to the far corner of the room. “I touched it.” She wiped her hands on her jeans in disgust. “Please don’t tell me that’s what it’s for.” Was Jenny not even allowed out to use the bathroom? Matilda eyed the bedroom door. Miss Honey would let her out if she needed to, right? She just had to yell. Besides, it was probably just a mop bucket for cleaning the floors…even if there were no mops or washcloths to go with it. Matilda peeked back under the bed, but found there was nothing else under there. At least she thought so until she spotted one of the floor boards sticking up an inch too high. Yes! There had to be something good under there Matilda thought as she crawled underneath the bed. She pried up the loose floor board and saw… Matilda scowled. Empty chip bags? What was this? Hortensia’s old room? She stuck her hand in and pulled out food wrapper after food wrapper until there was nothing else in there. Disappointed, she crawled out from beneath the bed with her haul. Matilda stared at the pile of trash until a thought crossed her mind. Did Jenny have to hide the fact that she had eaten junk food? A worse thought. Did Jenny have to hide the fact that she had eaten at all? Matilda stumbled her way back towards the bed and sat. She looked from the food wrappers, to the bucket, and then to the locked door. Jennifer had told her she didn’t have a happy childhood, but this? Suddenly, the room was feeling a bit too small and stuffy. She went to the window and tried to open it, but that too wouldn’t budge. Matilda searched for a latch to undue, but instead found nails driven through the wood. She backed away now feeling horrified and collapsed on the bed. It had been one thing to hear stories, but to see the evidence first-hand left her feeling hollow inside. Matilda hugged her knees to her chest. Why would Jennifer ever want to keep this place? She shut her eyes tight. She had seen enough for one day. Matilda didn’t want to know what the adults were doing anymore. The person she wanted to be angry at was already dead, so with nowhere to go, the anger turned to sadness, and it sat in her stomach like a weight wanting to pull her down into sleep. So Matilda let it. “Sweetheart, we’re all done.” Jennifer whispered as she sat on the edge of the bed. She had expected to be greeted by a very angry little girl, but instead Matilda was fast asleep clutching Lucy to her chest. She grimaced a little as she took in the state of the room. Matilda had clearly not been sleeping the whole time. Jennifer stood and crossed the room, picked up the bucket and began collecting the trash inside. “I didn’t know you smoked.” came a mumbled response. Jennifer turned and saw Matilda sitting up and rubbing the sleep from her eyes. “I don’t.” Jennifer said sounding a bit confused. “Anne of Green Gables says otherwise.” Jennifer cringed. She walked to the shelf and plucked the book from its spot and pocketed the contents. “So which hiding place did you find?” Jennifer asked, motioning to all the trash. “Floorboard under the bed.” “Ah,” she crossed the room as Matilda watched, bent down and removed a piece of the baseboard before sticking her hand into the wall and removing more trash. “This was my way of acting out. I’d wait until my aunt was asleep, sneak downstairs, and steal from her stash of snacks I wasn’t allowed to have.” “So she wasn’t starving you?” “No, I could eat as much as I wanted during meal times. If she starved me, I wouldn’t have enough energy to cook and clean. She would however buy snacks she knew I liked and not let me have any. She’d eat them right in front of me and make me watch.” “I’m relieved you weren’t up here starving, but still.” Matilda said with a grimace. “Did she often lock you in here?” “Every night.” “But you said you’d sneak downstairs after she went to bed.” “I had my ways of getting out if I really wanted to.” Miss Honey said with a small smile. “When I was around 11 or 12 I’d sneak down and move the furniture just to mess with her. It used to drive her crazy. She never did figure out how I was getting out, because I’d be in my room come morning deadbolt still in place.” Miss Honey laughed at the surprised look on Matilda’s face. “You would? B-but your so…so…” Matilda started to say, but stopped. “Cowardly?” Miss Honey finished for her. Matilda scowled. “I wasn’t always. While I certainly wasn’t up there with you or Hortensia, I had a knack for getting myself into trouble when I was younger.” “What changed?” “Sometimes you have to learn to pick your battles.” In truth, her aunt’s escalating erratic behavior happened. Getting sent to your room was one thing, getting locked in your room was another. Then came nailing her window shut and locking the pantry at night. And there were the other things. She shut her eyes for a moment. No, she wouldn’t think about those things. “Can I leave the room now?” Matilda asked. Miss Honey looked up to find her squirming on the bed. “Yes, go.” She watched Matilda spring off the bed and dart towards the door before stopping. Matilda turned back to look at her. “You would have let me out, right?” Miss Honey stared at her. “To use the bathroom? Of course I would have, do you think I would have made you hold it?” “Not exactly.” Matilda mumbled. Miss Honey followed her line of sight to the bucket in her hands full of trash. “Matilda!” Jennifer said in surprise. “Why would you think that?” “Did she make you?” Jennifer was nine, pounding on her bedroom door, crying, begging and pleading. Aunt Trunchbull would break her wrist again if she had another accident up here, but she couldn’t hold it until morning. “Please! I need to go!” The heavy pounding footsteps were coming. She hurried away from the door less she got smacked in the face by it again when it swung open. Once was enough. In flew a plastic object with such force Jennifer couldn’t tell what it was. The door slammed shut again. “I better not hear another peep out of you if you know what’s good for you, brat!” Her aunt bellowed before retreating back down the hall. Jennifer stared at the door incredulously. Wasn’t she going to let her out? She stared behind her at the object that had come to rest by the foot of her bed. Jennifer blanched. She stared at the bucket. No! That was disgusting! She wouldn’t! She refused! But as the minutes ticked by, so did her resolve. Finally, she couldn’t take it anymore. Jennifer picked the object off the floor, set it down on the other side of the bed, bunched her nightgown over her hips and squatted down. “Um, well, yes.” Miss Honey admitted. Matilda wrinkled her face. “It wasn’t that bad, honestly, it was vastly better than waking her up in the middle of the night. You wouldn’t believe how angry she would be with me. But sweetheart, I would never do that to you, if you ever needed anything all you have to do is ask. I’m not my aunt.” Matilda seemed to think about this for a moment before unknowingly uttering the words that would send Jennifer into a downward tailspin. “But you locked me in.”

Something peculiar caught Jennifer Honey’s attention out of the corner of her eye. She put her book down and tried to spot whatever it was that had passed by her table at the library. Jennifer almost could have sworn it was a child, but what would a child that small be doing in the adult section of the library by themselves? She watched for a moment, until she saw a small figure pass by on the other side of the bookcase. She was right! It was a child. Jennifer craned her neck searching for an accompanying adult, until she realized how silly she was being. “They’re not your responsibility until tomorrow.” She quietly chastised herself. But still…she should probably let Mrs. Phelps, the librarian know. She closed the book she was reading and stood, before pushing her chair neatly back into place. When she arrived at the front desk, she gently placed the book, a Charlotte Bronte novel, on the counter and waited patiently for Mrs. Phelps to return from the back room, ignoring the bell with the sign that read “please ring for assistance.” She busied herself reading the signs and posters taped to the walls even though she knew she had them memorized by now. “Jennifer!” A stern voice called from the back. The woman stiffened on instinct and fought down the urge to flee. She relaxed when an older woman with wrinkly skin and silver hair hobbled over to the counter. “The bells there for a reason.” “Good afternoon, Mrs. Phelps.” said Jennifer, ignoring her comment. “Just this?” The librarian picked up the book and began writing the information out on a separate card. Their town was small and behind on the times, that or the old woman still refused to use a computer. “Yes please. Umm, I think I saw a little girl wandering around by herself over there.” Jennifer pointed to the back corner from where she had recently emerged. “I think she might be lost or…” Jennifer stopped when Mrs. Phelps craned her neck in the opposite direction, staring at an empty table nearby. “It was probably just Matilda, she won’t hurt anything.” The older woman shook her head. “You’ve probably seen her in here before, she’s here most afternoons.” Jennifer frowned as she tried to remember, but she couldn’t recall seeing a little girl before this afternoon. “I don’t think I’ve seen her before.” said Jennifer. “She’s so quiet I forget she’s here half the time. I have her sit over there, so I can keep an eye on her, but it’s like watching a statue sometimes.” Jennifer watched as Mrs. Phelps followed something with her eyes off in the distance. She turned around and spotted a small raven haired girl standing by a bookshelf facing the titles. “Is she here by herself?” Jenny asked. “I think one of her parents drops her off and picks her up out front on weekdays. Part of me wants to give them a piece of my mind for treating the library like a daycare, but she’s been no trouble.” Jennifer tried to imagine any one of the kindergarten students she taught left here to their own devices' day in and day out. She shook her head. The library would be in shambles. “How old is she?” Jennifer asked curiously as she watched the little girl carefully pull a book from the shelf and examine the back cover. “Five or six, I think. Normally she stays put, but she’s a bit antsy today.” Jennifer watched the girl for a moment. “She told me she starts school tomorrow.” “If only they stayed that excited about school.” said Jennifer. “Did she say which school?” “Yours.” “Mine?” Jennifer frowned. She wouldn’t wish her school on anyone. Jennifer Honey taught at the only private school in town, notorious for its strict rules and overzealous principal. The majority of the student body fell into either one of two categories: The children of the wealthy, and the children of the parents who were at their wits end. It was the school parents threatened to send their kids if they misbehaved. “So she’ll be in my class then?” Mrs. Phelps stood there for a moment watching the girl before answering. “No, I don’t think so. …. Matilda had spent the entire evening tossing and turning, before giving up on sleep entirely. She sat crouched on the floor, reading under the glow of her night light. Just four more hours until her first day of school. Three more hours. Two more hours. She could hear the ringing of her parent's alarm clock. Matilda closed her book before jumping back in bed to feign sleep. Twenty minutes later a large fist began pounding on her door. “Get up! Don’t make me late!” her father barked from the other side. “I’m awake!” Matilda called back. “You better be! Don’t make me come in there and drag your ass out!” She hurriedly jumped out of bed, surprised she had actually fallen asleep, and changed into her school uniform. When she came out to the kitchen, she found her mother complaining as she stood in front of the stove, frying eggs. "I still don't understand why we have to send her to that fancy expensive school. Why can't we just send her off to Mikey's school? It's free." "Two words, sweet cheeks, corporal punishment. That brat needs to learn some respect, and what better way than having it beat into her." said Harry. "I met the principal the other day, a real wacko but that's besides the point, she's huge, intimidating, and she promised to give her a real good smack with the riding crop when she meets her." Matilda froze in the kitchen. Surely her father was just trying to scare her. She made eye contact with her mother, a large woman with dyed platinum blonde hair and frowned. "Cute uniform." Her mother said before turning back around. Matilda scowled. Was that all her mother cared about? "They don't really beat children there, do they, daddy?" asked Matilda. "That's against the law." "You bet your ass they do. It's a private school, they don't have to play by the rules, so you better be on your best behavior, got that? You watch that smart mouth of yours if you know what's good for you." Matilda rode in the backseat in silence next to her brother. "I hear you're going to the delinquent school." Michael, her older brother, sneered. "My friend says they throw kids in a wooden box." "They do not!" Matilda hissed back. She stared out the car window. The slight feeling of dread began to mix with the excitement. Even if they did hit kids there, it’s not like she’d do anything to warrant such a punishment. She wasn’t as bad as her father thought she was. The only times she had ever acted out was when he had deserved it. When they had pulled up to what looked like an old, decrepit, gothic stone building, Matilda stared out the window dumbfounded. This was her school? It looked like it could have been a graveyard once upon a time. “Well, what are you waiting for? The red carpet? Get out!” Her father barked. “And you can find your own way home. I ain’t coming back here to pick you up.” Matilda quickly gathered her book bag and scrambled out, ignoring her brother as he shouted about having fun in the coffin. Well, she thought as she took in the crumbling building, she was finally here. It was the moment she had been dreaming about all year, her first day of school. So why did she feel like she was about to step foot in a nightmare? She could do this, she told herself as she walked onto the grounds, taking in the high weeds and cracked asphalt lot. Matilda stopped as she got near the entrance. She was starting to feel overwhelmed by the large amount of children huddled in groups surrounding her. She stared from group to group as they eyed her. Everyone already seemed like they had a place they belonged. But where did Matilda belong? She searched each pocket of children, trying to find kids her own age. She spotted three kids huddled together by the stairs who looked about as terrified as she felt, but when she got halfway to them, the school door burst open and out flew a tall lanky figure with blond hair. “She’s coming!” The figure yelled. “The Trunchbull is coming!” Matilda stood mystified. It was as if a switch had suddenly been thrown. The loud chatter had suddenly ceased as boys and girls scurried to stand side by side in two long rows facing each other, leaving a walkway in between them. “Get in line, runt!” The tall lanky figure shouted at her from her spot. “Not in the boys line, get in with the girls!” Matilda scurried over, heart beating wildly in anticipation. What was going on? “If she addresses you, you need to answer all her questions with ‘ma’am’ if you don’t want to get smacked, got that?” The tall figure said. Matilda looked up at her, just now realizing it was a girl. “One more thing, if she tells you to stick out your hands, just do it. It’ll be worse for you if you don’t.” Matilda swallowed and nodded her head as a very large, imposing figure slowly made its way out of the school building and began walking in between the row of children. Matilda thought she was the unhappiest looking woman she had ever seen. The corners of her lips curled as if she had just tasted something sour, her eyebrows were pointed downward, giving her a permanent look of anger, and her one piece green smock looked about two sizes too small for her. The thing that scared Matilda worst of all was what she had in her hand. It was a large leather riding crop that she periodically smacked inside the open palm of her hand. There was a loud rhythmic thumping sound that filled Matilda’s head. She wasn’t sure if it was the sound of her pounding heart, or the Trunchbull’s massive boots crunching bits of asphalt beneath them with every step. Periodically, the massive woman would stop in front of a terrified looking kid before sizing them up like a wild, hungry predator trying to decide which child would make for a delicious treat. Finally, when the woman got to where Matilda stood, she stopped. Matilda held her breath and chanted inside her head please keep going, please keep going. The Trunchbull turned and glared at her. “You!” she barked. Matilda winced. The woman’s voice was loud, booming and made her ear drums ring. “You’re new here, yes?” Matilda swallowed, her throat now dry. “Y-yes.” She stuttered out before feeling a kick to her shins from the girl standing next to her. “Ma’am,” she quickly added. “What’s your name, you filthy little good for nothing miscreant?” “Matilda Wormwood, ma’am.” She managed to choke out. “Wormwood, eh?” A smile began to creep along the woman’s face revealing a set of yellowing teeth. Matilda inwardly grimaced. Her happy face was much more terrifying than her angry face. “Stick out your hands.” Matilda froze. “I said stick out your hands you incorrigible wretch!” Matilda’s hands shot forward. Matilda let out a howl as a blinding flash of pain shot through her. “That was for your father and this…” Matilda let out a second, louder scream. “Is for me.” Tears streamed from her eyes as angry red welts began to appear on the backs of her hands. Matilda couldn’t believe it! The woman had hit her with the riding crop! Why? She hadn’t done anything! “I’m going to let you in on a little secret. I don’t like you, Wormwood. I could say I even hate you.” The Trunchbull said. Matilda’s eyes were as wide as saucers. The Trunchbull turned and stared at everyone else. “In fact, I hate each and every one of you brats.” She turned as she reached the end of the line and began making her way back towards the school. Every once in a while, she’d notice something out of place. She ordered a third grade boy to stick out his hands for having an untucked shirt. Matilda winced at the sound of leather striking skin. Her hands still ached and stung, but she didn’t dare look down at them. Matilda winced again as a girl got struck for the color of her hair tie, and the worst one, a large boy was struck in the stomach for, “being a fat ass.” Matilda’s legs were shaking by the time the giant disappeared back into the school house. She had taken her sweet time going through the rules, and dear lord, there were so many! Matilda’s head spun. How was she supposed to remember all of them? When a bell began to ring, Matilda watched as the children began to separate themselves into lines by what Matilda could only assume were grades, until all that was left was about 20 lost and terrified looking five-year-olds standing about unsure of what to do. “You lot, form a line and your teacher will come escort you into your classroom.” Matilda got in line with the others, each one looking just as scared and shell shocked as she felt. She sucked in a breath and watched as one by one adult's came and led a line of students inside, each as quiet as the children now were. She was so transfixed watching the other lines of students that she hadn’t noticed her own line was moving until she felt someone poke her from behind. Matilda quickly hurried forward to fill in the gap as she tried to steal a glimpse of who they were following. It wasn’t until they had begun filing one by one into a classroom did Matilda see who it was. There, standing post by the open door like a prison guard, stood a plain looking young woman watching them all. Matilda gulped nervously, she couldn’t get a good read from her face, but she looked just as unfriendly as everyone else here. It wasn’t until everyone had filled the room, and the door was shut, did her demeanor suddenly change. Gone was the hard stare, rigid posture, and unreadable facial features, and in their place was a sort of gentle, calming expression. “Please take a seat, anywhere you’d like.” the woman called out. Her quiet voice was a sharp contrast to the booming and demanding shouts from Miss Trunchbull. Matilda hurriedly took a seat in the first empty desk she could find and stared ahead, a mixture of terror and wonder fighting for dominance inside her. “Hello everyone, welcome, my name is Miss Honey. I know some of you might be feeling a little scared this being your first day and all, but I just want you to know, when you’re in this classroom with me, you have nothing to be afraid of. I know Miss Trunchbull can be scary sometimes, and she most likely told you all we teachers have sticks we use to hit you with.” The woman bent down and picked up a long wooden cane and held it up, so everyone could see. Matilda instinctively flinched. “While I do have a stick, I just want to let you know, I will never hit you with it. I don’t believe in hurting children. Unfortunately, I can’t say the same for all the other teachers, so do try and be on your best behavior when you’re out in the halls or in the cafeteria.” Matilda stared wide-eyed up at her teacher as she finished up her introduction. Matilda could have sworn she had never seen the woman before today, but there was something familiar about her. She was even more sure they had crossed paths when she had each student stand up and recite their name and at least one thing they liked or were interested in. Matilda grew more anxious the closer it got to her. Miss Honey seemed to already be familiar with a large handful of children from either knowing their parents or an older sibling. She was also quickly realizing almost everyone here were the children of well-to-do families. There was the son of a doctor, Nigel, and the daughter of a team of husband and wife attorneys she had seen advertised on a bus stop. When it was finally her turn, she quickly stood, nearly tripping over her feet in the process. “My name is Matilda Wormwood and I like books.” She said. She was about to sit back down when she noticed a peculiar expression on Miss Honey’s face, almost like she was surprised to see her here. Matilda swallowed nervously and hid her hands behind her back on the off chance Miss Honey had also been instructed to strike. Or was it because it was so obvious she didn’t belong in a class of wealthy children? “Matilda,” Miss Honey said softly, as if testing out the name. “Were you by chance at the library yesterday?” “Yes,” Matilda said.“I go most days. I love it there, and Mrs. Phelps is nice.” “Yes, she is.” said Miss Honey. Matilda was surprised to see the woman’s lips curve in a soft sort of smile. It was smaller than the ones she had given all the other girls and boys, but something about it seemed much more genuine. When the last child had introduced themselves, Miss Honey addressed the class again. “So something I like to do on the first day of school is to read you all a story. I find it helps settle those first day jitters. Let’s see, Matilda, since you’re a fan of books, why don’t you go pick one out from the shelf?” Matilda, eyes now alight with excitement, leapt from her seat and hurried over, but frowned when she saw her options to choose from. Clifford the Big Red Dog, Bernstein Bears, The Rainbow Fish, If You Give a Mouse a Cookie, The Giving Tree? These were all… “Are you having trouble deciding?” Miss Honey asked. “It’s just, these are all for little kids.” Matilda said, frowning when Miss Honey began to laugh. “Of course they’re for little kids, this is a kindergarten classroom.” Matilda’s shoulders slumped. She thought kindergarten would be more educational. Her eyes scanned the room until she stopped on a book lying on Miss Honey’s desk. Was that what she thought it was? “Yes, this one!” Matilda said snatching it up and bringing it to Miss Honey. “I read it last week, but it’s still good.” Miss Honey took the copy of Wuthering Heights and frowned. “Sweetie, this is mine, why don’t you go pick out something you’ll understand.” “I understand it.” Matilda said with a face full of hurt. “It’s about Catherine’s and Heathcliff’s relationship, but their different classes in life keep them apart. Also, Heathcliff marries his neighbors' sister for revenge for bullying him in his childhood. Personally, I don’t think that’s a very good reason to get married, but I guess times were different back then.” Miss Honey stared at her wide-eyed. She looked at the book in her hands, then back at Matilda’s eager face. “Y-yes, I see, well I’m sorry, but you still need to pick out something more appropriate for the rest of the class.” She watched the little girl's shoulders slump with disappointment. “Okay,” Matilda said glumly. She went back to the shelf and without really looking, picked a story at random, handed it over and returned to her seat. It wasn’t until Miss Honey began to read did Matilda perk up. That’s where she recognized her from! Every Wednesday during the summer, there had been a lady who had come to read books to the children. Matilda hadn’t been very interested in the stories themselves as they were a bit too juvenile, but she had enjoyed sitting around the corner and listening to her voice. She loved the emphasis she put into each of the characters voices and the way she made the stories come alive. Once the story was done, Matilda’s hand shot up, eager to share her revelation. “You’re Jenny from the library, aren’t you?” Matilda asked when she was called on. “You were my favorite reader to listen to.” Miss Honey gave her another genuine looking smile. “Yes. I’m glad you enjoyed it, but,” Miss Honey stopped as if trying to remember. “I don’t ever recall seeing you.” “Oh, well, that’s because I usually sat at a table around the corner.” Matilda admitted with a bit of a blush “I didn’t want Mrs. Phelps to see me.” “Well, I hope you won’t feel the need to hide in class.” Miss Honey said. “Now everyone, I’m sorry to do this to you all on your first day, but I have a test for you. Now don’t worry about not knowing the answers, it won’t count against you. This is just to help me see where you all are at and know which areas you might need some extra help in. Some questions are meant to be hard, so don’t worry if you don’t know them, just do what you can. I don’t expect any of you to get perfect scores. “Has anyone ever gotten a perfect score?” a girl asked. Miss Honey laughed and shook her head. “If someone in here got a perfect score I’d be worried.” “Why?” someone else asked. “Because it would mean they shouldn’t be in my class. This test covers several grades ahead of ours as well. There are fifty questions covering math and reading. I’m only expecting to see scores in the teens.” “What’s the highest anyone’s gotten?” the same girl from before asked. “Well, this is only my third year teaching, but I did have a student last year score a 19.” “I’m going to get a 20!” another student shouted. “I’ll get a 25!” “I’ll get them all right!” Miss Honey beamed at them all. “That’s the kind of enthusiasm i’m looking for!” Matilda eagerly pulled out a pencil. This was her chance to show her father she wasn’t as stupid as he thought she was. She let out a sigh. He would probably just accuse her of cheating even if she did do well. He had put all his eggs in one basket with Mikey, and there was no more hope or affection left for her. The only person who had ever showed her any kindness was Mrs. Phelps. Matilda looked up from her test and eyed the young woman standing in front of the class. Maybe, just maybe, there would be another. … Miss Honey let out a sigh as she collapsed into her desk chair. These new kids were just as rambunctious as last year! She briefly looked over the class roster. So many new names to memorize. She had already called Brian by his older brother's name twice, and she doubted it would be the last time. Her finger paused as it got to the very end of the list. Wormwood, Matilda. Why had Mrs. Phelps been so sure she wouldn’t be in her class? Miss Honey eyed the phone sitting on her desk. No, she’d just be bothering her. She was probably busy. She bit the inside of her cheek as she debated. Finally, curiosity had won out. She dialed the number for the library. “Mrs. Phelps, hi, this is Jennifer Honey.” “So you finally figured out how to use a telephone.” came the curt reply. Miss Honey bit down on her cheek again. “I’m only teasing. What can I do for you?” “You had said something peculiar yesterday, and I was hoping you would clarify. It’s about the girl from the library, Matilda. She’s in my class after all-” She stopped when Mrs. Phelps voice came over sounding disgruntled. “Why on earth would they put that girl in your class?” “Because she’s five?” Miss Honey said sounding unsure. “You haven’t noticed yet?” “Noticed what?” “Matilda is,” there was a brief pause. “Special.” Miss Honey wanted to laugh. If she had a dollar for every time a parent told her their child was special she wouldn’t be living in a shack. “She tried to get me to read Wuthering Heights to the class this morning. How she even knows what that book was about is beyond me but-” “Do you have it near you?” “Yes,” Miss Honey said, picking up the book she had gotten from the library yesterday. “Open the cover and pull out the card in the sleeve.” “Alright,” said Miss Honey, unsure where this was going. “I’m looking at it.” “Recognize anyone?” She skimmed the list until she got to the second to the last name right above hers. Matilda Wormwood. “So her parents read her the classics?” “I think you’re missing the big picture here, Jennifer.” “Which is?” She wasn’t in the mood to play guessing games. The kids would be back from lunch soon. “What else would someone do in the library all day?” Mrs. Phelps asked. “Read?” “Bingo.” Miss Honey shook her head. She couldn’t be serious. “Are you saying she read this?” “She reads anything she can get her hands on.” “No wonder she was falling asleep while I was going over vowel sounds.” said Miss Honey. “If she can read and understand full length books…” A sudden thought came to her. The test! “They make me give the children this horrendously difficult test to the children on their first day. I haven’t graded them yet but,” she dug through her desk in search of Matilda’s. “I think I’ll grade hers now.” “Keep me on the line, I want to hear this.” There was a long moment's pause while Miss Honey skimmed the answers on her test. She could feel all the tiny hairs on her arms and back of her neck begin to rise. This…This wasn’t possible. Finally, she let out her held breath as she stared down at her score dumbfounded. “How?” was all Jennifer was able to blurt out. “Well?” Mrs. Phelp’s asked. “How’d she do?” “You were right.” said Miss Honey. “This girl has no business being in kindergarten.” She stared down at the near perfect score in awe. “It wasn’t just reading, it’s math too.” Something Matilda had said began to worm its way into her head. “Does she understand?” Jennifer asked. “How far ahead she is?” Matilda had asked her why all her books were for little kids. Did she think they were below kindergarten level? “I don’t think so, but I’m not sure how much interaction she has with other kids her age.” When Miss Honey had hung up the phone, she peeked out at her students on the black top. They were all huddled into groups, all except one. She could see Matilda, sitting alone on a picnic bench with a book. She slipped out the classroom and out the doors before making her way out to her. “Hi, dear, what are you doing?” asked Miss Honey. No answer. “Sweetie?” Nothing. “Matilda?” The girl looked up now startled. “I’m sorry, I didn’t realize you were talking to me.” said Matilda. “Who else would I be talking to?” Miss Honey asked taking the seat across from her. “Terms of endearment are a bit foreign to me, so I might assume you’re addressing someone else.” Miss Honey frowned, opened her mouth to say something, but closed it again. “So what are you reading?” “To Kill A Mockingbird.” “I like that one.” said Miss Honey. “I have a bit of a silly request.” Matilda cocked her head to the side. “Would you read me a page?” “Out loud?” Matilda asked. Miss Honey nodded. “Sorry if it’s not good, I don’t usually read out loud.” “It’s alright, just try.” Miss Honey held her breath as Matilda read just as fluently as any adult. There wasn’t a pause, stutter or stumble. When she had finished the page, she had looked up, but Miss Honey was so enthralled she had asked her to keep reading until she had finished the chapter she was on. “That was wonderful.” Miss Honey said with a wide smile. “How long have you been able to read?” “I can’t remember a time I haven’t been able to.” Matilda answered after a brief pause. “I really like,” she paused again to find the right way to explain. “Not being here.” Miss Honey frowned. “Not being in school?” “No, I mean, not being in the present. Every time I open a book, I’m there in that world, and every world is different. Why would I want to be here when I could be on a pirate ship, or in the 19th century?” “That’s a wonderful way of looking at it. I love reading too.” “Really?” asked Matilda, “I tried asking my classmates but…” her shoulders slumped. “What do you like to read?” “Have you read any of Charles Dickens? I enjoy his stories quite a lot.” “Only everything at the library. The first adult book I read last year was Great Expectations.” “Matilda, you read Great Expectations when you were only four years old?” Matilda shrugged, as if it was a feat any toddler could do. “I asked Mrs. Phelps to let me read a famous book, and that’s what she brought back. After I finished it, I read David Copperfield and A Tale of Two Cities. I also read Nicholas Nickleby, but after today, I’m starting to wish I hadn’t.” She held up the backs of her hands, where Miss Honey could see the angry red welts still present. “Oh, Matilda,” Miss Honey whispered. She had the overwhelming desire to clasp the girl's hands in her own. She had to fight down the impulse. Affection was frowned upon here, reminding Miss Honey this school really was like the school in Nicholas Nickleby. “What happened?” “My daddy asked her to. I thought he was just trying to scare me, but…” her voice trailed off. Miss Honey could see her eyes begin to flood with tears before she wiped them away with her arm. “Once she heard my name, she ordered me to stick my hands out.” “I’m so sorry, dear, she likes to pick out children at random on the first day and use them as an example to scare everyone into behaving. It might not have had anything to do with your name.” Jennifer couldn’t imagine someone telling Miss Trunchbull to hurt a girl like Matilda. She had only known her for a single afternoon, but from what she could tell, she seemed very sweet, well-behaved, and extremely intelligent. It wasn’t until you got into at least third grade that the problem students started transferring in. Jennifer felt a pang of sadness for what she had to do, she would have loved to continue to see just how vast Matilda’s mind really was. In fact, she had a feeling she could easily spend hours talking about books. Finally, here was someone who understood how wonderful reading could be, but. Miss Honey frowned. Why couldn’t it be another adult? Why did it have to be a five-year-old? She had longed to have a real adult conversation with someone that wasn’t awkward small talk while she bagged their groceries during the summer. Who was she kidding? Every conversation she had ever had with people her own age was awkward. It didn’t help that she couldn’t seem to look anyone over five feet in the eye without panicking. She loved children, their innocence, and their wild imaginations, but she could only take so many one-sided conversations about Paw Patrol or whatever other television shows were popular. “What’s wrong?” asked Matilda. “You have this worried look on your face.” Miss Honey had to mentally smooth out her features, hiding her surprise at having been caught. So she wasn’t just book smart, she was amazingly perceptive too. “Nothing, dear.” said Miss Honey. Matilda studied her face for a moment. “Why do adults lie so much to children?” asked Matilda rather bluntly. Her innocent features now sported a scowl. There was no hiding things from this one it seemed. “Because sometimes it’s just easier than explaining the truth. Some things aren’t appropriate to tell children.” Like the fact she was having an existential crises at the thought of going to see the principal. “So you are worried about something?” “I’ll tell you a secret.” Miss Honey leaned her head in and Matilda eagerly did the same. “I’m starving.” Matilda giggled, before replying. “That wasn’t a I’m hungry face, though.” Jeez this kid! “It was more,” Matilda thought about it. “Scared.” “Once you see the cafeteria food, you’ll be scared too.” Matilda grinned before shaking her head. Miss Honey’s smile faltered. She let out a sigh. “I have to see the principal about something.” She leaned her head in again and whispered. “She scares me too.” “Do you have someone to go with you? I could go with you if you want, then maybe it won’t be so scary.” Miss Honey smiled. The offer was cute and touching, but she shook her head. “That’s very sweet of you, but it’s something I have to do alone. It’ll be like ripping a band-aid off, I’ll feel better once it’s over with.” There was no way Jennifer was bringing her anywhere near the principal's office. If Matilda thought her riding crop was scary, Jennifer would never see her again if she saw what awaited disobedient students in Miss Trunchbull’s office. She shuddered at the thought. She was about to tell Matilda it was time to get washed up for lunch when her stomach let out a loud growl. The girl stared at her wide-eyed before bursting into giggles. “I told you I was hungry.” ……. This had not gone to plan. This had not gone to plan at all. “So?” Miss Trunchbull asked after looking at Matilda’s test score. “Well, I figured she’d be happier in a more advanced class. For someone who can already read fluently and has a firm grasp of basic mathematics, kindergarten would be very boring for her.” “No.” Came the curt reply. Ms. Honey frowned. “She obviously cheated anyway.” “No, M-miss Trunchbull, I heard-” “She’s a real wart that one. She’s a cheat and a liar. Even her father said so. Asked me to give her a good smack when I met her. I had her screaming and crying this morning, yes I did.” Ms. Honey’s mouth nearly fell open. They certainly weren’t talking about the same girl! “No, there must be some mistake! Matilda is a very-” “Big, and revolting problem you must deal with. Don’t let those little slime balls manipulate you! Or do I need to re-educate you on how to handle children?” Ms. Honey quickly shook her head. She could hear whimpering coming from around the corner where Ms. Trunchbull kept that. “This is a school, children aren’t supposed to be happy. So you either keep the little wart in line or I will.” Ms. Honey’s head was pounding with anger as she rode her bike, an old rusted beach cruiser she had liberated from the dump, towards home. What was she supposed to do now? And how could Mr. Wormwood say something like that about his own daughter? The more she thought about it, the angrier she became, and the angrier she became, the more frantically she peddled. She was pedaling so hard by the time she reached the farm fields she almost rode right past the figure sitting on the sidewalk with their head tucked to their knees. If it wasn’t for Crunchem Hall uniform, she would have kept on going. Ms. Honey hit the brakes and stared at the figure. What was a student doing all the way out here? “Hey, are you okay?” Miss Honey asked. The child looked up, tears streaking down their face. “Matilda?” She hopped off her bike and squatted down next to her. “What in the world are you doing out here by yourself?” “I-I-Iwastryingtowalkhomebutigotlostandnowi’mtootiredtokeepwalkingandIreallyhavetopee” Matilda blurted out before bursting into tears. “I’m sorry, can you repeat that a bit slower? I didn’t understand any of it.” She tried to place a reassuring hand on her shoulder, but instantly felt the girl stiffen. “I’m lost.” Matilda said before getting up and beginning to pace before stopping, crossing her legs and bending forward at the waist. Ms. Honey watched her for a moment before what she said beforehand clicked into place. Oh. She looked around, but there was nothing but fields. “I don’t live far. Do you think you can wait a few more minutes?” Ms. Honey wasn’t so sure if she could, but Matilda sniffled and nodded. She picked up her bike got on and had Matilda climb on the back of the seat and wrap her arms around Jennifer's waist. Within a few peddles she knew this wasn’t going to work. Matilda couldn’t sit still. She would send them both crashing to the ground. “I’m sorry, but c’mon, let’s go over here.” She took Matilda’s hand and led her down a dirt path and away from the main road. “Where are we going?” Matilda asked, staring at her hand in Jennifer’s as if the mere act of holding hands was something foreign to her. “Somewhere you can go potty.” Ms. Honey watched as Matilda craned her neck this way and that. “I don’t see a restroom.” Ms. Honey bit back a laugh, before looking behind her. “I think we’re far enough from the road. Around here should be okay.” “Around he-” Matilda stopped mid-sentence as her situation seemed to click. Ms. Honey watched her face go from pale white to a bright shade of scarlet. “Have you ever been camping?” Matilda shook her head as she shifted her weight from foot to foot. “See, normally what you want to do is dig a hole, but the ground is a bit too hard here.” Ms. Honey struck it with a stick, but nothing happened. “Oh well, you won’t hurt anything.” Matilda stared at her silently for a moment. “Go on. It’s okay.” “I-I don’t have to go that badly.” Matilda lied. “You haven’t stopped squirming since I found you. I have a feeling your family won’t be happy if you show up with a wet uniform. They’re very expensive.” Matilda hung her head and crossed her legs. “Best to just get it over with. I won’t look if that’s what you're worried about.” “Like a band-aid.” Matilda mumbled. “Yes, just like that. Did you still want me to read Wuthering Heights?” “Yes.” “How about this. Once you go potty, we can still go to my house. I’ve got a map and once we figure out where you live, I’ll read you a chapter.” Matilda let out a breath. “Okay.” She mumbled. “Where?” Miss Honey turned around. “Right where you’re standing is fine. Wait first, hand me everything you're wearing from the waist down. This will all be pointless if you still get everything wet.” She grabbed the clothing when she felt something soft get pressed against her arm. “Now all you have to do is squat down and make sure your legs are apart.” “Okay.” After a minute of silence, Miss Honey peeked behind her to make sure everything was going alright, but frowned when she saw Matilda, now half naked, still dancing from foot to foot. “You’re not going to feel any better until you get it over with.” “Hey! You said you wouldn’t look!” “I’ll look away once you get down.” Matilda groaned, hands clenched into fists in front of her while pumping her legs up and down. “Fine, I’ll read two chapters.” “I can’t. Not here.” Matilda whimpered. “Sweetie, you won’t make it anywhere else.” “No, I mean, I can’t get down here.” Matilda was crying again. “What? What is it? Are you hurt?” “N-no, there are holes” Jennifer looked down. Yes, there were quite a lot of holes, but they were in a field. She gave Matilda a quizzical look. “I d-don’t like holes I can’t see down. What if they're full of yellow jackets?” Jennifer took a deep breath and pinched the bridge of her nose. Children and their irrational fears. “They’re just old gopher holes. The quicker you go, the quicker you can get away from them.” “Would you put your privates next to holes you can’t see down and start pouring liquid?” Miss Honey blanched. When she put it like that. It didn’t sound so irrational after all. Matilda. 1. Jennifer. 0. “Do you want to look for somewhere else, or do you want to try and wait until we get to my place?” “I think I can wait.” Matilda said, hands still covering herself. “Can I have my clothes back, please?” “Hmm, tell you what? Let’s play a game of risk.” Jennifer said. Matilda frowned. “You have until we get to the bike to change your mind. If you can make it until we get there, I’ll read you two chapters.” “Okay, then I’ll wait.” Matilda said. “But if we have to stop along the way, one chapter, and if you have an accident, no chapters.” “O-oh okay.” Matilda said. “So can I have my clothes back?” “I’ll give them back at the bike, because once you put them on, it starts.” “It starts at the bike?” Matilda asked. “If you change your mind and find somewhere to go potty before we get to the bike, I’ll still read you two chapters. So keep an eye out.” They walked in silence back towards the street, Matilda trailing a few steps behind her. Jennifer was hoping she’d hear her run off somewhere, but the girl seemed determined. When they got back to the street, Jennifer looked left and then right to make sure the coast was clear. When she saw that it was, she bent and picked up the bike and that's when something struck her. “Matilda,” Jennifer said with her back still turned towards her. “There’s something you should know before I give you your clothes, and we head towards my place. It’s an outhouse.” “Huh?” Matilda said. “The bathroom. It’s an outhouse. Do you know what that is?” “Like a porta-potty?” “Sort of, it’s more like a seat that sits over a big hole in the ground. I’m not sure just how uncomfortable you are with holes, but-” she peeked over her shoulder at the crestfallen expression on Matilda’s face and heard a tiny audible whimper escape. “There are no holes here sweetie.” “Pl-pl-please don’t tell anyone. My d-daddy would- ” Matilda’s voice broke. Jennifer got off her bike and steered it over about a foot from the curb. “Your daddy doesn’t need to know. Come over here behind the bike so no one sees if they drive by.” She watched out the corner of her eye as Matilda scurried over behind the bike and disappeared. Ms. Honey waited for a minute, but she didn’t hear any movement. “Everything okay?” “Yes.” Came a quiet sniffle. “Are you going potty?” There was a second much quieter, “Yes.” Jennifer almost wasn’t sure she heard. She peeked behind her, before turning back around, pleased to see there was now liquid streaming down the gutter. “There’s a good girl. I’m sure you feel loads better now.” “Pl-ple-please don’t t-t-tell a–ny-one.” Matilda cried. “Sweetie, it’s nothing to be upset about. Even adults have to do it sometime.” “My p-p-parents say girls can’t pee outside, only guys get to.” “Well, it’s easier for them sure, but what do you think female hikers and campers do?” “My daddy said they hold it until they get home.” “That’s not very practical, is it?” "Miss Honey, can I please have my clothes back?" Matilda asked from behind the bike. "Oh, yes, here." She bent down and opened up the girl's underwear for her to step into, but Matilda quickly pulled them out of her hands and dressed herself. "All set?" Jennifer asked once Matilda had stood up and come out from behind the bike. "Almost." Jennifer watched her rub at her temples with her hands. "Are you alright?" "Yes, it's just, whenever something unpleasant happens, I like to imagine it getting locked in a box where I'll never remember it again." “Matilda, it really isn’t a big deal.” “Of course it’s a big deal! It was my first day of school, and I just peed in the street in front of my teacher! You must think I’m disgusting or uncivilized! Or some kind of infant who isn’t ready for school!” Matilda said, her voice getting louder with every word. “No, sweetie, I don’t think any of those things. You made the right choice. You recognized your limitations and acted accordingly. I think what you did was smart, but if it bothers you this much we can both pretend it never happened. Just know, I have seen more than half the class naked and in far more compromising positions, so you have nothing to be embarrassed about.” Matilda furrowed her eyebrows in confusion. “I think I missed that part of class.” Jennifer laughed and shook her head. “No, silly, I’ve babysat most of them at one time or another over the years. I’ve given them baths, cleaned up diaper blowouts, changed wet sheets and wet pajamas.” “Oh I see, but that’s when they were babies, obviously.” “Uhh, not quite.” Miss Honey said with a small smile. “But we will need to rinse off your legs.” She quietly chuckled to herself as Matilda’s face began to glow bright red. “So do you want to ride on the back of the bike, or shall we walk?” “Walk. I don’t want to get your bike dirty.” Once they started walking, Matilda seemed to snap out of the embarrassed trance she was in. Jennifer was having difficulty keeping up with her in conversation. She bounced from one topic to the next, leaving Jennifer in awe. She couldn’t believe she was having these types of conversations with a small child. They talked about feminism in the early 1800s compared to today, classism in A Tale of Two Cities, working conditions of the poor, religions of the world. Jennifer was so entranced she hardly noticed how far they had walked. It was as if Matilda had stopped being this vulnerable, lost child and had become a miniature scholar. She was quite knowledgeable on a wide variety of subjects, but as soon as Jennifer had started asking her anything about her own life, she seemed to clam up, and once again she could glimpse the vulnerable child. “We’re here, right through these trees.” Jennifer led her through a maze of trees and shrubs until they came upon a small building no one would ever find unless they knew where to look for it. She pushed her bike up and leaned it against the small white building. “You live here?” Matilda asked, wide eyes taking in the property. Jennifer could see her eyes light up in excitement as she spotted something across the yard. “You have a hammock! That’s so cool!” Jennifer smiled and watched the young girl take off across the yard until she came up to a group of trees she had strung up a once broken hammock she had bought at a yard sale and sewn back together. “You have a garden too! Is that corn?” “Yes, I enjoy gardening. I grow all sorts of fruits and vegetables, like corn, squash, cucumbers, strawberries.” “Is that a real well?” Matilda ran over and peeked inside before quickly backing off. “Can’t see the bottom.” She mumbled. “Yes, It’s how I get my water. There isn’t any modern plumbing inside, so I can’t just turn a faucet. If I need water for anything, I have to draw it from the well.” “Why don’t you have running water?” Matilda asked. “Well, back in the day, it used to be the sla- I mean servants quarters. It’s old and out of date. I’m afraid the outside is much more interesting than the inside.” “And is that the outhouse?” she pointed to the other corner of the yard. “Why doesn’t it have a door?” “Ah, well, I took it off since it’s just me here, it’s out of the way and secluded from the rest of the main property and anyone who might walk by. I don’t like being in small spaces.” “But what if you have guests?” “Well, I’ve never had to think of that before, you’re the first person I’ve ever had over.” “Really? How long have you lived here?” “Almost two years.” “You’ve lived here for two years, and I’m the first guest?” Matilda asked incredulous. “Why?” “I like living simply. This is the only place I can really be myself, it’s not much I know, but here I’m free. Now, come here, let’s get you cleaned up, and then we can lay in the hammock and read.” She led Matilda back over to the well and drew the bucket up. Next she went inside and retrieved one of the few washcloths she had and dunked it in the water. “Pull everything from the waist off, and I’ll wipe you down.” Jennifer frowned when Matilda began backing away. “I can clean myself.” “If you insist, but make sure to get everywhere, so you don’t go home smelling like urine. I'll be over here when you’re done.” She handed her the damp cloth and laid down in the hammock to wait. Five minutes later, Matilda tried to pull herself up, but nearly tipped Jennifer out. “Over here, so you can see.” Matilda let out a startled yell when Jennifer picked her up and set her down in between her legs. “Why do you look so uncomfortable? Relax, I’m not going to hurt you.” She placed a hand on her shoulder and felt her body go rigid. Jennifer frowned in concern. “Does being touched bother you?” “I’m not used to it is all. My family isn’t the affectionate type.” Miss Honey remembered what she had said during lunch about terms of endearment being foreign to her. “Don’t they ever hug you or hold you or tuck you in at night?” “No.” Matilda said flatly. Jennifer bit her lip. “Matilda, are you safe?” “Can we read, Miss Honey?” “Not until you answer my question.” Matilda shifted uncomfortably. “If you answer mine.” Jennifer pinched the bridge of her nose. “What do you want to ask me?” “Do you live here because you like it or is it just because you're poor?” Matilda asked. Jennifer froze. “Both.” She thought of lying, but this girl seemed to have a built-in lie detector. “Now answer mine.” “What do you mean by, ‘safe’?” “Are you taken care of? Fed? Loved?” “There’s food in the house, I’m not being starved or locked in a cupboard like I’m Harry Potter. Do you not make much money from teaching?” “But a child needs more than just their physical needs met. They need to be shown love and kindness.” “Mrs. Phelps is kind to me.” Matilda mumbled. “You didn’t answer my question.” “I make enough, but my aunt takes it all as back payment for raising me. I live off the money I get doing odd jobs like babysitting on the weekends, or working over the summer. It’s difficult to be an independent adult when you take home as much money as a teenager. As for Mrs. Phelps, she’s not your mother. It’s not enough, trust me, I know. I grew up in a loveless home, and the only kindness I received came from the same source.” “Why did your aunt raise you?” Matilda asked. “Was she mean?” “My parents died when I was very young. And yes, she is a very mean woman.” “I’m sorry. Was she mean like Miss Trunchbull?” Jennifer stayed quiet for a moment until Matilda turned around to face her. Finally, she settled on the truth. “My aunt is Miss Trunchbull.” Matilda gasped. “Ms. Honey!” Jennifer smiled sadly. “Enough about me, and you don’t have to keep calling me Ms. Honey while we’re here. When we’re not at school you can call me Jenny.” She looked down at Matilda. “And if this position makes you uncomfortable, you can move.” Matilda sat still for a moment and looked at her place in between Jennifer’s legs. “Can I stay?” Matilda mumbled. “Absolutely. In fact, lay back, get comfortable.” She pulled the girl down until she was leaning fully against her and picked up the book next to her. “I promised to read some chapters, didn’t I?” Matilda grinned and nodded her head. Jennifer got halfway through the second chapter when she stopped and listened. She could hear Matilda’s deep rhythmic breathing. She looked down and found the girl turned on her side and resting her head on Jennifer’s stomach, now fast asleep. Jennifer smiled and gently ran a hand over her back. She thought of waking her and offering to take her home but decided against it. Matilda had had a rough day and maybe a nap was really what she needed, and maybe a little something else. She wrapped her arms gently around the sleeping girl and smiled when she felt tiny arms wrap around her as well. She may not be able to challenge her mind, but at the very least, she could offer Matilda something her books and family couldn’t and wouldn’t. Human Affection.

Jenny took a deep breath in an attempt to calm the butterflies swarming in her stomach. Both her and Matilda stood in front of Jenny’s childhood home the following Saturday, buckets of cleaning supplies in hand. She hadn’t been inside in years, save the one time Matilda had dragged her inside and gotten themselves stuck in a closet all evening. Already the childhood memories she wished to burn from her mind began to pour in. “Ready?” Matilda asked. Jenny felt a small hand wrap itself around hers and squeeze. “Ready.” Jenny said, reassured by the reminder that she wasn’t alone. She pushed the door open, surprised vandals and squatters hadn’t had their way with the place as they walked inside and set the buckets down. “What do you think?” Jenny asked as they slowly walked from room to room checking the place out. “There are a lot of rooms, it’s even bigger than my parent's house.” Matilda said wide-eyed. “I wonder what she did with my old room.” Jenny said as they went upstairs. “Probably tore it to pieces when I said I wasn’t coming back home.” She led Matilda down the hall and stopped at a closed door. “Let’s see what disaster awaits behind door number one.” She opened the door and let out a gasp of surprise. “It’s…” Matilda started to say but stopped. “In one piece.” Jenny said. She slowly walked around the room taking it all in. The bookcases, the desk, her old white bed frame. It was all still here and…Lucy! She went to the bed and picked up a doll wearing a white dress and hugged it for a moment before setting it back down. She stared fondly at the other knickknacks placed neatly on the shelves. “This would be perfect for you.” “It doesn’t look like anyone’s been in here in years.” Matilda said, running a hand along the bed frame before wiping the dust on her pants before perking up, “Let’s look at the master bedroom.” They left the room, leaving the door open behind them as they made their way to the master bedroom. “That’s umm… well, it’s..” Matilda said staring ahead at a complete loss for words. “It’s coming down is what it is!” Jenny said with a grimace as they both stared at the large tapestry of The Trunchbull hanging over the large four-poster bed. “Do we throw it away or burn it?” Matilda asked as she looked around. “She really liked pictures of herself.” "No kidding." Jenny said with a wince as she looked around. "I haven't been in this room since I was your age." She pressed down on the mattress a few times. "I used to sneak in early Sunday mornings before the Trunchbull would wake up, and sit in my father's lap while he read the paper. He was the one who taught me how to read. He loved reading, and always instilled in me the value of education. He would have loved you. I'm sure of it." Matilda didn't know how to respond, so she stood by fidgeting awkwardly as Jennifer seemed to stare off into space. She wasn't sure if Jenny was thinking of happy memories or sad. The emotions were too complex to pull apart and decipher. Whatever it was, it was overwhelming to Matilda. Just as Matilda figured she should leave her, she seemed to snap out of whatever trance she was in. "Of course, once he died, I was never allowed in here again. Along with a long list of other things." She said more under her breath than to Matilda. "Can I?" Matilda asked, pointing up to the tapestry. She made a ripping motion with her hands as Jennifer stared blankly at her. "No, I'll just throw it out later. I don't want you hurting yourself trying." Matilda scowled. Ever since the incident with the glass door, Jennifer had been reluctant, almost even fearful of letting her use her powers. Matilda had even started wondering if Jennifer thought by not letting it out, they would go away on their own. Matilda didn't want it to go away. They had become a part of her, and not using them made her feel trapped inside her skin. She could feel the power inside of her bouncing around, begging for release. It was like an itch she couldn't scratch. She imagined it akin to something like having wings that were bound or perfectly good legs and never being allowed to walk. Matilda wanted little more than to give it fresh air, but it was always the same. "No, you'll hurt yourself" "No, you'll make yourself too tired." She needed to get her mind off it, or the pressure building inside her would drive her insane. It had been nearly a week since she had tormented Mr. Larson and made the lights blow. They were here to clean and snoop, so that's what she would do. Matilda got on her hands and knees and peered underneath the large bed. Jackpot! She crawled underneath. "Matilda, what are you doing under there?" Jennifer called. "Looking for secrets." came the reply. "I don't think you're going to find anything under there but dust bunnies." "Then what's this?" Matilda asked triumphantly, shoving the shoebox out by Jennifer's feet before crawling out herself. "Look at you, you're covered in dust. When I said we were going to sweep, I meant with a broom, not with you." Matilda ignored her while Jennifer smacked the dirt off the girl's clothes. "So what's in the box?" “I'm not sure." Matilda stared blankly at the contents. There were several strangle shaped things inside. Some twisted into odd shapes, some had bumps and some were smooth. She was about to reach for one when the cover of the shoebox slammed down. She looked up at Jennifer confused, who was now sporting a grimace before letting out a nervous laugh. "I think that's enough snooping in here for you." "What? Why?" Matilda said indignantly. "There are things in here that are too inappropriate. Why don't you go start emptying the fridge?" "But Je-" "Out! Out out out." "Okay, okay stop pushing!" "I'm just going to do a quick sweep of the room, then I'll help you downstairs. Oh, and Mrs. Rodger's will be here soon anyway. Why don't you let her in once she gets here. " "Fine." Matilda grumbled, before leaving the room. Once Jennifer was sure Matilda was gone, she looked under the bed to make sure nothing else was underneath. She felt dismayed when she saw there was. Wasn't one box enough? She tried to crawl underneath the bed, but found she wouldn't fit. Then she got on top of the bed and tried reaching down between the wall and the headboard. She could just reach the tip, but couldn't quite bring it up without squishing her arm. So she slid it forward as much as she could. Now lying on her stomach over the edge of the mattress, she reached as far as she could, just touching the edge once again. Oh, c'mon! Just a little farther! Jennifer was vaguely aware of Matilda yelling something up to her, but all her focus was on disposing of any evidence of her aunts extracurricular activities, she hadn't heard the footsteps working their way up the stairs. Just a little more! She inched her body further over the side of the bed, hands now connecting with the shoebox underneath. She dragged it out, but when she tried to pull herself back up, she found she couldn't. Instead of pulling herself up, she found herself sliding further down. She let out a frightened yell, dropping the second box and spilling its contents while she tried desperately to grasp onto the comforter. Too late. Jennifer felt herself somersaulting over the side of the bed and onto the floor with a loud crash. Now dazed and sore, she clutched the blankets and tried to pull herself up once again, only now to slip on a pile of magazines and send the first shoebox, which had been resting only a foot from the side, down on top of her. "Jennifer, are you alright? I heard a crash. Do you need he-" Mrs. Rodger's stopped mid-sentence as she took in the sight. Jennifer sat there looking stunned. "Mom, are you okay? Did you-" Matilda froze too. She looked down at her feet where a purple phallic shaped cylinder had come to rest. "Don't touch that!" Miss Honey cried. Instead, Matilda pointed at it and wordlessly commanded it to rise in the air. She looked from it back to Jennifer sitting in a pile of various shaped objects and raised an eyebrow. "Mom, if you wanted some alone time, you could have just said so." Matilda watched with some amusement at Jenny's ever-changing face. It seemed to change color like a flickering Christmas light, going from white, to bright red, before finally settling on a ghostly gray. "I-I'm not- I wasn't!" Jennifer babbled. "You're sitting in a pile of dirty magazines and adult toys." Matilda said, mentally flipping the switch and making it vibrate loudly before turning it off and letting it fall to the floor. She saw the dismayed and disappointed look on Miss Honey’s face. She hated when Matilda knew what adult things were for. "Zinnia left hers out on her dresser once and caught me using it as a back massager." Matilda frowned for a moment. "I don't know why they're only made for adult backs though. When I asked her she said it was because Daddy’s hands were too small to satisfy her, so sometimes she needed something extra.” Miss Rodger’s let out a snort before quickly stifling it at the scathing look she received from Jennifer. “Yes, well, Miss Trunchbull must have had a lot of kinks in her back.” Jennifer said before clearing her throat. “Please go back downstairs and get started in the kitchen while we clean this up.” “Well, she certainly had a lot of kinks, but I’m not sure about them being in her back.” Miss Rodger’s said once Matilda was out of earshot. Jennifer shuddered as she began shoving magazines blindly back into the box. The less she saw the better. She didn’t want to know what her aunt had been into. Miss Rodger’s on the other hand seemed amused flipping through the pages. “Bondage, that doesn’t surprise me one bit. You notice they're all women?” “I’m trying not to notice anything.” Jennifer replied. She had scooped up the last of the pile when a few Polaroids fell to the floor. She bent down, picked them up and froze. Jennifer could feel the color begin to drain from her face. The room began to sway. Her throat constricted. No! No! No! No! No! No! She let out a strangled whimper. Mrs. Rodger’s looked up and frowned. “Jennifer, what is it?” but all the woman could do was shake her head as a silent tear began to fall. Mrs. Rodger’s came over and stared at the pictures still clutched in Jenny’s hand. “Oh shit.” she muttered. … When Matilda opened the fridge, she let out a dry, involuntary retch. The food inside had long since spoiled and bugs were crawling in and out. If there was ever an excuse to use her powers, this was it. She held the trash bag open and one by one, sent the contents of the fridge hovering into the bag. See, her powers could be useful! It felt so good to let them out. Sure, she was growing tired alarmingly quick, but that was just because she was out of practice. By the time the fridge was empty, Matilda had filled three gallon trash bags and felt like she had just run a marathon. She felt very weak as she stumbled out of the kitchen and towards the couch. She just needed to sit down, and she’d be fine. Matilda was just about to collapse onto the sofa when she felt an alarming pang in her chest. Her legs began to wobble. She quickly sat and gripped the sofa. What was this? Was this from over using her powers? There was another feeling. Terror. No, sadness. No, hate! She wanted to yell. It was too much! This had Jennifer written all over it. She wanted to go to her, but found she couldn’t move. Just when Matilda thought she couldn’t take it anymore, the feeling all but disappeared. Matilda sat there, panting and shaking as she heard footsteps coming down the stairs. She tried to put on a smile, but dropped it when she saw the serious look on the two women’s faces. “What happened?” Matilda asked Mrs. Rodger’s as she busied herself in the kitchen making everyone tea. All Matilda knew was Jenny was nearly catatonic, and Mrs. Rodger’s had called the police. Mrs. Rodger’s bit her lip before peeking out into the hallway. “We found some things we thought we should hand over to the police.” “What? Like a gun?” Matilda asked. “No, not a gun.” “Matilda! Would you come over here?” they heard from the living room. Matilda perked up as she rushed to Jenny’s side. “Mom, are you okay?” Matilda asked. Miss Honey smiled weakly. She still looked very pale and shaken. “What happened?” “Sweetie, would you do me a favor?” Matilda nodded her head eagerly. What did she need? A blanket? Some water? Tea? A snack? “Would you go up to my old room and lie down for a nap?” Matilda scowled. A nap? She was telling her to go take a nap? “Mom, really?” “Please?” Miss Honey asked. Matilda sighed. She looked desperate. “I’ll come wake you up later, so please, just stay up there. You don’t even have to take a nap if you really don’t want to. You can read a book, I have several.” “Okay.” Matilda sighed. “Thank you.” Miss Honey gave her a tight embrace. Matilda was halfway to the stairs when she stopped and stared at the wall. “That’s a big spider.” She could see Jenny flinch and turn around. Matilda took a step closer to examine it. “It has a cotton ball just like Charlotte.” “Matilda, get away from that! That’s not a cotton ball, that’s an egg sac.” Matilda’s eyes went wide. She took it the white fluffy ball. If that was an egg sac… She sucked in a breath and jumped back. “I think I’m going to go lie down after all.” Matilda said in a monotonous tone. She numbly climbed the stairs, her brain refusing to quiet. If it wasn’t a cotton ball she had put in the backseat of the Trunchbull’s car. No, she couldn’t think about this right now! She pinched her eyes shut as she imagined hundreds of legs emerging from their white fluffy prison. Legs that were scurrying and climbing over the backseat. Legs that had caused their victim to panic. When Matilda reached Jennifer’s old room she stopped and stared at the door. She hadn’t noticed the deadbolt before. She frowned. It was on the wrong side. She stared up at it as realization dawned on her. It wasn’t for keeping someone out. It was for keeping someone in.

Matilda was fuming by the time Hortensia walked in. Her hands were covered in glue, there was glitter in her hair, and this stupid crown Miss Honey was making her wear kept slipping down her face. Matilda was ready to rip the current project to pieces. She was supposed to be making some kind of sculpture using strips of paper and glue, but no matter how hard she tried, it wouldn’t stand up. “Man, what the hell, I thought your mom was the nice one.” Hortensia grumbled. School had already been dismissed, leaving the classroom empty save the two of them. She plopped down in a nearby empty desk. “How am I supposed to write lines with my knees up to my chest?” Matilda ignored the feeling of eyes boring into her. “Umm, what are you doing?” “My detention.” Matilda grumbled. “Are you kidding me? You get to do art for your detention!? That is so not fair!” Hortensia complained. Matilda slowly craned her neck towards her and glared, the paper crown she had made now covering one eye. Hortensia smirked at her. “What’s with the, umm, what is it supposed to be?” “She’s making me wear everything I make.” Matilda moaned. “It’s supposed to be a crown.” “That’s a crown?” Hortensia laughed. “You look like you scribbled on a piece of paper, ripped it, and taped it to your head.” “Shut up.” Matilda hissed. “This stupid thing is so itchy.” She scratched at the back of her neck where her coiled paper necklace hung, careful not to rip it in case Miss Honey made her do it over. “Does Miss Honey have the leash to go with your collar?” “It’s a necklace.” Matilda said. Hortensia snorted. “You made it too tight, it looks more like a choker.” “Don’t you have lines to do?” “What are you working on now?” Hortensia asked, ignoring her. Matilda sighed before holding up the instruction booklet. Hortensia studied the page, looked at what sat in front of Matilda, then back to the booklet. “I see you’re going for a more…modern art approach.” She said, trying to suppress a laugh. “I hate art.” Matilda grumbled. She had only done three out of five projects. She frowned as the “sculpture” collapsed again. Two out of five projects! She had been at this for over an hour! Was Miss Honey going to make her keep going at this until she really finished five of them? They’d be here all night! The door opened. Both girls turned in their seat to see Miss Honey walking in. “That better not have been the sound of talking I heard!” Miss Honey said. Both girls shook their heads. “I don’t see you writing, Hortensia.” “Why does she get to do art projects and I have to do lines?” Hortensia complained. Miss Honey’s eyes shifted to Matilda and back. “Does it look like she’s having fun?” Hortensia craned her neck and looked at her a moment. “It looks like she’s trying to hang herself.” Miss Honey sighed. “Matilda, what are you doing? You’re going to choke yourself.” Matilda was pulling on the back of the rings, tightening it even more around her neck. “I’m trying to get it off without ripping it.” Matilda said, growing even more frustrated. “Why did you make this so tight?” Miss Honey asked, disentangling one of the paper links and liberating the girl's neck, which was now covered in glue and angry red marks. “I ran out of paper! I had no choice.” “Matilda!” Miss Honey said sounding exasperated, “You were supposed to cut the paper into strips and tape them together. Now both of us are covered in glue, and how in the world did you-” Miss Honey stopped after seeing the melancholy expression on her face. “I ran out of tape making something else.” Matilda mumbled. Miss Honey looked around, but didn’t see anything. “It’s just as atrocious as everything else I made though.” “Would you let me see?” “It’s in there.” Matilda said, pointing to the empty desk next to her. “Please don’t pull it out though.” If Hortensia saw it, she’d probably keel over laughing. “It’s for you.” She added barely over a whisper. Curious, Miss Honey lifted the lid of the desk and stared down. Sitting atop another student's scattered belongings, was a piece of paper covered in taped on glitter spelling out the words, “THANK YOU FOR BEING MY MOM!” Underneath were two taped on popsicle stick figures holding hands. “I thought we didn’t have any glue, and that’s why I used all the tape, but then I found the glue, and it was already too late, so that’s why I had to glue the necklace together and-” “Matilda, I love it.” Miss Honey said, a now genuine smile spreading across her face. “This wasn’t even one of the projects.” Matilda shrugged. “I wanted to make it before I got…” She put up her hands and bent her fingers into claws for emphasis. “Frustrated.” She finished. “It’s not perfect or anything…” “Matilda, it doesn’t need to be perfect to be special.” Miss Honey said before closing the lid of the desk. “The fact that you made it is what makes it special.” Matilda looked away, now feeling embarrassed. Miss Honey strode over, lifted her crown up and kissed the top of her head. There was a moment of silence before Miss Honey coughed and winced before she wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. “Matilda, how did you get glue in your hair?” Matilda flashed her a sheepish smile and shrugged. Miss Honey sighed and shook her head. “Alright,” she said taking in the work Matilda had put into everything. “I think you’ve been punished enough. Go in the bathroom and try and get all that glue and glitter off and meet me in Mr. Trilby’s office. We have a project for you I think you’ll enjoy.” Miss Honey watched Matilda scurry off, wincing at the sticky substance now coating the door handle. “What about me?” Hortensia asked. Miss Honey looked down at the blank piece of paper save for her name and raised her eyebrows. “What about you?” “Can I be a part of your secret project?” “Absolutely not.” Miss Honey laughed. “You’re staying here and writing lines.” “So you’re trusting me to stay in your classroom, by myself?” Hortensia asked. Shoot, Miss Honey thought as she bit her lip. She hadn’t thought that far ahead. She looked around the classroom. Would it be in one piece by the time they got back? Miss Honey sighed. “Fine, we need someone to make copies.” “Yes!” Hortensia exclaimed pumping her fist in the air. “I knew you were one of the nice ones.” She quieted down once she saw the look on Miss Honey’s face as she came within inches of her own. “If I ever hear you’re threatening one of my students again, I’ll be making sure you’re writing lines until the day you graduate.” Hortensia gulped and nodded her head vigorously. “Good,” Miss Honey said, her features softening once more. “Follow me, I’ll show you what we need copies of.” She led Hortensia down the hall, ignoring the comment under her breath which sounded like, “It’s always the quiet ones.” When they entered Mr. Trilby’s office, both Matilda and Mr. Trilby were already waiting in a chair looking at them both curiously. “Can I have Augusts folder, sir?” Miss Honey asked. When he handed it to her, she handed it to Hortensia. “Go make three copies of everything in this folder, and don’t lose a single piece of paper. Then come right back, and I’ll give you the next month, until you finish making copies of the whole school year.” “The whole year?!” Hortensia exclaimed. “I’ll be here all night!” “Would you rather be writing lines?” Miss Honey asked. “No.” Hortensia mumbled before hanging her head and heading back out to the copier. “Outsourcing the work to the students already, Miss Honey?” Mr. Trilby laughed. Matilda watched as Miss Honey’s face began to turn a deep shade of crimson. “No! Sir, It’s for her detention, I would never!” Mr. Trilby laughed again. “I’m only teasing you, Miss Honey.” Jennifer gave an uncomfortable, nervous laugh before sitting down next to her daughter. He then turned his attention towards Matilda and smiled. “As for you, since you have such an extraordinary knack with numbers, Ms. Honey suggested we let you take a look, just for fun. Once Hortensia comes back with the copies, what we’d like you to do is to go through and highlight any…mistakes you find.” Matilda gave him a confused sort of glance. “Sweetie, this is completely voluntary, if you don’t feel up for it, or it’s too hard, just say the word. You’re not being punished anymore.” Miss Honey said. “Is it another test?” Matilda asked. “No,” Mr. Trilby said, “it’s not a test, it’s more like…” “A puzzle,” Miss Honey threw in. “or a long world problem in math. You like those, don’t you?” Matilda nodded. “Will it be challenging?” “Yes, that’s why we thought you might enjoy taking a crack at it, and if you enjoy it, we can keep coming back after school. It’s not something that can be solved in one night.” Matilda seemed to frown for a moment. “A large math puzzle that can’t be solved in one night?” “Exactly,” Mr. Trilby said. “You see, the puzzle starts with a big monetary number, and every time money is spent, the big number gets lower and lower. The problem is, the big number is already almost gone, and we have all these little pieces of the puzzle that need to match and tell a story as to why the big number…isn’t so big anymore. Does that make sense?” “You’re letting me help with the school's bookkeeping records?” Matilda asked, eyes now shining brightly. “What? No, no, of course not, this is just a hypothetical puzzle.” Mr. Trilby tried to say, his voice now raised an octave higher than it should be. “Matilda, how much exactly do you know about bookkeeping?” Miss Honey asked. Matilda shrugged. “I was reading a book about a man who was in jail for embezzling money from his company, but he was actually framed. I didn’t know what embezzlement meant, so I looked it up, but then I got curious about how embezzlement works, which led to Ponzi schemes, then to money management and banking, then to bookkeeping and auditing.” Miss Honey and Mr. Trilby exchanged blank looks. “And how much time did you invest in researching bookkeeping and auditing?” Mr. Trilby asked. “An afternoon.” Matilda said. “Then I went back to the book I was reading.” Miss Honey watched as Mr. Trilby seemed to deflate in his chair like an untied balloon. “But you have a general understanding of what we’re trying to do, right?” Miss Honey asked. “So you are going over the schools accounts?” Matilda asked. Miss Honey nodded. "If that's the case, I'm going to need more than receipts. I'll need payroll, ledgers, accounts receivable...." Matilda listed off a few more things off the top of her head. Miss Honey looked from Matilda's eager face to the now pale headmasters. "I, I can't let you see those things. Th-their private." Mr. Trilby said. "We're just letting you see the school's expenses for fun. I've already gone through everything else." He turned to see Miss Honey's face. "No, I can't let a student go through our staffs' personnel files. There are wages, social security numbers, it would be a major breach of privacy." They waited in silence until Hortensia got back with arms full of papers. She dumped them unceremoniously on the desk before pulling up a chair. "That's a lot of stuff!" Hortensia complained. "What are you guys doing with all this? And why's the squirt involved?" "We're looking for mistakes in the math." Miss Honey said. "You're going to have a field day then, there's over 10 just on the first page!" Both Matilda and Mr. Trilby reached for a copy of the first page and frowned. "No there isn't," they both said in unison. "What are you, blind?" Hortensia asked. "Enough, go start on the next month and leave this part to us." Miss Honey said, handing her another thick envelope. Matilda scowled as she read and re-read the first page. What was Hortensia talking about? She ran the numbers inside her head, then proceeded to read them aloud. So far, everything checked out. It was the beginning of the year purchasing order for textbooks. Matilda frowned, no wonder Hortensia complained so much about her mom making her buy her own replacements if she lost them. They were expensive for a student to have to shell out the money for, even if they were the cheaper paperback pull apart for grade schoolers. Matilda flipped through the next page, and then the next mentally doing the math in her head for all the subjects and grades she had completed this year. She grimaced at the number. Had Miss Honey really stolen over 600 pounds worth of text books for her? No wonder the Trunchbull was so mad! Matilda could feel expectant eyes following her every movement as she flipped through page after page. Her forehead began to crease with worry. They had expected her to find at least something, anything! There were purchase orders for toilet paper, soap, erasers, markers, lightbulbs, cooking ingredients, chalk, but nothing stood out to her as suspicious. The math added up. If anything, now she understood why the school bought the cheapest toilet paper possible. She flipped the last page over and looked up. "I'm sorry, everything adds up." Matilda said. The textbook industry was a scam, but she had already known from reading articles about it in the newspaper. She had even heard a university student complaining about it during Christmas break in the library. "I came to the same conclusion." Mr. Trilby said. "Well, I'm relieved. At least I didn't miss anything glaringly obvious." Matilda remained silent, glancing over the first page again. "Sweetie, if you didn't find anything wrong on there the first time, I doubt there is. Hortensia just likes to blurt things out to make people worry. Last week she told me I was trailing toilet paper on the bottom of my shoe as she passed me in the hallway, but when I looked down, nothing." Miss Honey said. Matilda rolled her eyes. It sure sounded like something Hortensia would do, but still. She stared at the page until the next month's worth of copies arrived. This batch of papers wasn't nearly as big. This time Matilda was able to highlight a few numbers that were off, but it didn't make much of a difference in the budget. Still, it seemed to make the adults happy whenever she was able to spot a few subtle errors, like a decimal in the wrong place, or an added zero where there shouldn't have been. By the time she had gotten through the third month, she had found a total of six errors, but no obvious fraud. "I think we ought to call it a day." Mr. Trilby said. "It's getting late." Matilda looked up from the papers and noticed for the first time it was already dark outside. How long had she been looking at this? A wave of exhaustion now seemed to crash over her. When she looked back down at the paper, she frowned. The previous neat column was now a blurry mess. She rubbed at her eyes, but the numbers refused to refocus. "Mr. Trilby, I need your opinion on something." Miss Honey said. "I'm not sure what to do about..." Matilda had her head down, but she was sure they were talking about her. "It's just not working out." "Is it still about the teacher, or...?" Mr. Trilby asked. "No, while I'm certainly not a fan of his, it's much more complicated than that. We had a talk today, and she finally managed to get it through this thick skull of mine." Miss Honey said. "She's just not built for traditional education, and I'm at a complete loss. I can't expect her to sit in a classroom like any other child. She absorbs information at such an impossibly fast rate, but is stuck being taught at the rate of the rest of the class. She wants to come back to my class and continue what she was doing before, but what about next year? And the year after that? There's never going to be a classroom setting that can keep up with her." Miss Honey let out a sigh. "She needs a one on one tutor and a much faster paced curriculum, but it's nothing I can find for her here." Mr. Trilby remained silent for some time before answering. "Actually, what if you could? You know if you took the job-" "Sir," Miss Honey said. "I doubt the board would be happy if I requested to hire a teacher for one student." "Hear me out," Mr. Trilby said. "What if you could still be her one on one tutor?" Matilda lifted her head now, intrigued. "If you took the headmistress job, you'd have access to all the curriculum materials. Instead of placing her in a class, you could put a school desk in here and have her study with you." "Headmistress?" Matilda asked, looking at Miss Honey, who seemed to be at a complete loss for words. "You could even dismiss her for recess with her friends class, so she doesn't completely miss out on social interaction." Mr. Trilby added. "I could." Miss Honey said. Her eyes were wide as they took in the room with a new perspective. Matilda could see her mind was going a mile a minute. What in the world was going on? “Would they really let me do that?” “You’d have to make a case for it and present it to the education board as to why she’s not in a classroom, but I think her test scores alone could make a near solid case.” Miss Honey remained quiet for some time thinking things over, only coming to when Hortensia entered with another month's worth of print out. “That’s it for today, you’re excused.” Mr. Trilby said. “Yes!” Hortensia exclaimed while stretching. “There wasn’t even anything interesting to read through. I can’t wait to get home and eat.” “Wait!” Matilda called, before Hortensia could make it out the door. “What you said earlier about there being a bunch of mistakes. What did you mean?” Hortensia frowned. “You said there weren’t any.” “But why did you think that? You weren’t just joking, were you?” Matilda asked. Something had been bugging her, but no matter how long she had stared at the page, nothing jumped out at her. It was probably nothing, but it wouldn’t hurt to ask. “The textbooks were too expensive.” Hortensia said. Mr. Trilby frowned. “Textbooks have always been expensive, that’s why it’s important to take care of them.” “No, on the list, they were like really expensive.” Hortensia said. Matilda gave her a blank stare before searching the pile of papers for the first page of the report. Hortensia dug through her backpack for a minute before pulling out her math book. “Look, the price is right on the back of the book. Twelve pounds, I remember because I had to buy a new one last month.” Matilda gaped open-mouthed at the list. “She’s right!” Matilda said, “Look! The purchase order is for 37 pounds a book!” She groped around before pulling out the second and third pages. So that’s 25 pound difference per textbook, times the number of subjects, times the number of kids in a class times the number of grades.” She wrote a large figure on the back of a piece of paper and slid it over to Mr. Trilby. …. “Stop beating yourself up, Matilda.” Miss Honey said on their walk home. “Of course you’d be more interested in what’s inside the book than the outside.” “But how did I not see it?” Matilda asked for the tenth time. “I still can’t believe it was Hortensia who found the fraud.” She grumbled. Miss Honey let out a chuckle. “How do you think Mr. Trilby feels? He’s been agonizing over it for weeks, and the school's notorious problem child finds it in one glance. I’m still very proud of you though, you know why?” “I didn’t do anything.” Matilda mumbled. “Oh yes you did,” Miss Honey said. “It’s thanks to both of you we found the problem. Both Mr. Trilby and I assumed we knew better and brushed her comment off. It’s you who listened and investigated further. You reminded me that I need to pay closer attention to what the children are trying to tell me, even the problem ones. Especially if I’m going to accept the job offer.” “What job offer?” Matilda asked. “Mr. Trilby wants to retire, and he asked me to take the role of headmistress starting next school year.” “Woah! Are you going to take it?” Matilda asked. “I’m considering it.” Miss Honey said. “It depends on how you’d feel about it.” “Me? Why me? Of course you should take it!” Miss Honey laughed. “No, not that. I meant how you’d feel about me teaching you privately in the office, instead of you trying to be in a classroom. It’s not like I could keep you in my class every year.” “Can we really do that?” Matilda asked, “Wouldn’t you be busy with other things?” “If I can teach a lot of first years and still manage to keep you occupied, then I don’t see how this would be much different. You do so well on your own anyway, I’m kind of afraid my only job would be to hand you the next book to work out of.” Matilda shrugged. “It’s worked well so far.” “We still want you to go over the other months, just so you know. Just because Hortensia found a large amount of money that went missing, it doesn’t mean there isn’t more spread out somewhere else. We also need to figure out where the money went.” “No where good if she felt she had to hide it.” Matilda said. “So if she didn’t keep it for herself, where would the Trunchbull spend it?” “That’s a good question.” Miss Honey said. “What would you say to a little snooping through the house after school tomorrow?” “As long as we don’t get stuck in the closet again.”

When Miss Honey heard the message on the answering machine the previous night from Mr. Trilby requesting a meeting, she had assumed she was in trouble, but this!? Her chest was tightening. Her heart was racing. She couldn’t believe what she was hearing. She stared at the small man wide-eyed. He had to be off his rocker! Going senile! Crazy! Maybe he was even on drugs! It was the only thing that would explain what she had just heard come from his mouth. He stared at her expectantly, his hands intertwined and resting on the desk between them. “What?” It was all Jenny could manage to get out. Maybe she was the crazy, senile one. She must have heard wrong. Must have hit her head in the night. “I said, I’m retiring” Mr. Trilby said. “And I want you to take my place.” There it was again. She hadn’t imagined it. “You don’t have to give me an answer right away, but please think it over.” “Why me? I-I’m nothing but a first year teacher. I know nothing about being a headmistress.” “Yes, but you see, that’s what this place needs. It doesn’t need someone with management skills, or another disciplinarian. What it needs is someone creative, caring, and passionate. This school has been ruled by, well, rules and fear for far far too long.” Jenny remained silent, still at a complete loss for words. “I’ve been watching you, Miss Honey, and I’ve seen the way you speak to the students. Students that aren’t even in your class. You see them, you listen to them, and to be honest, you’re one of the few teachers we have that care about them.” “Of course I care about the students, sir, but wouldn’t literally anyone be better for this?” “No, no they wouldn’t. If I promoted anyone else, how would I know the cycle of abuse wouldn’t continue?” “How can you be so sure the cycle of abuse wouldn’t continue with me?” Miss Honey asked. In her entire life she had never been in a position of power before. What if it went straight to her head? “Oh I doubt that very much.” Mr. Trilby said before smiling. “I do believe we both know of a certain little girl who would be up to the task of keeping you accountable.” “Sir, to be perfectly honest with you, the way things are going I don’t know how much longer I can justify keeping her enrolled. Unless…” Mr. Trilby raised an eyebrow. “Unless what?” “I heard a rumor yesterday. Is it true they’re expanding the school?” “All the way to year 13.” He said. Miss Honey’s eyes widened. She really could keep an eye on Matilda. “And you know what? If you were headmistress, you’d have the final say in Matilda’s education.” Miss Honey bit her lip. It sounded nice, she had to admit. She could pull her from Mr. Larson’s class or… she could just pull Mr. Larson. “The teachers here, some of them are, how can I phrase this?” Miss Honey said. “When the previous headmistress hired some of them, she was looking for disciplinarians, someone who could keep the students in line. She prioritized discipline over everything else, as I’m sure you’re aware.” Miss Honey suppressed a shudder. “Yes, I’m aware.” “So I would suggest before the following school year, if you're interested, we sit and go over the personnel files together. Let’s decide who stays and who goes.” He frowned for a moment as he waved his hand through his graying hair. “Well, there’s a bit of a problem we need to solve before we can even think of hiring new teachers.” “What’s that?” Mr. Trilby sighed deeply. “It’s the ledgers! The longer I stare at them the less sense it makes! I looked at our bank balance, and it’s practically empty. We’ve still four months left in the school year, and yesterday I find out how much money we get a year from the government and I just can’t figure it out! Where did it all go? There’s so many things that need repairing, but when was the last time the previous headmistress did more than hand over a roll of duct tape? The playground is nothing more than an asphalt lot, we have no heating or air conditioning, half the toilets are out of order, and to be quite honest, I feed my dogs better quality food than the school feeds the children.” “Was the Trunchbull over paying herself?” Miss Honey asked. She wouldn’t put it past her aunt to pocket the money and let the school fend for itself. “It’s the first thing I checked. While she certainly paid herself more than she paid us, it was still considered reasonable and not enough to make this much of a difference.” “Sounds like you need to hire an accountant.” “I made a call to inquire about it, but they said we don’t need just any regular accountant, we need a forensic accountant, and they don’t come cheap. We can’t afford it and i’m in over my head here. Do you have any ideas?” Miss Honey racked her brain, thought of something, laughed darkly and shook her head. “What?” “Nothing, it’s silly.” Miss Honey said shaking her head. Hey, Matilda, sweetheart, if you can help us find the embezzled funds, I’ll let you have a bowl of ice cream and stay up an hour past your bedtime. Mr. Trilby seemed to read something in her face. He laughed for a second before saying, “No, absolutely not. No way.” Miss Honey smiled sheepishly, embarrassed the thought had even crossed her mind. Although, she wasn’t the one who brought it up. “She’s cheap.” Miss Honey said with a laugh. Mr. Trilby let his face fall into his hands before shaking his head and letting out a frustrated groan. He slowly raised his head and met her eyes. “How cheap?” ………………………… Hortensia was flashing her Cheshire cat grin. Matilda raised her eyebrows in question. “I always knew you were full of shit.” Matilda rolled her eyes. “Not anymore.” Matilda moaned. The right side of her face was resting on her desk with her head craning up to see Hortensia. “You don’t want to know what i’ve been through.” It was the third-worst experience of her life. “I’ve been violated.” She was still a bit bitter over the whole situation. She had little to say to Miss Honey this morning, even if she had been mere putty in her arms last night. Jenny had caught her by surprise was all. Matilda wasn’t expecting her to pull out the big guns. It wasn’t like her to offer fabric free cuddling. Matilda closed her eyes and pictured last night. So soft and warm. And Jenny hadn’t been panicking nearly as much this time. Matilda let out a contended hum. “Yeah, for someone who says they were violated, you sure have a dopey grin on your face.” Hortensia teased. Matilda could feel her cheeks turning red. “I do not. I never want to do that again. The cramping! And then they make you hold it and-” Matilda shuddered. She tried to picture Jenny’s arms around her again to flush her brain, but it wasn’t working. “Yeah, I hear enough about enemas from my mom. I’m good.” Hortensia said. “She gives them to the old people like candy, then she comes home and doesn’t spare me the details.” Matilda cringed. “Poor old people.” Hortensia shook her head. “She says they beg for them like sweets. She can’t go a day without shoving something up someone's ass.” “Hortensia, mind your audience.” Mr. Larson called out in his bored voice. “She brought it up first.” Hortensia said with a snicker. “I meant me.” Mr. Larson said. “I just ate.” Matilda watched as his gaze stopped on her. “Wormwood, I take it you still have all your internal organs.” “Yes sir,” Matilda said. “You have a doctor’s note excusing you from class yesterday? Bring it up.” Matilda grabbed the two folded pieces of paper on her desk and sprang to her feet. She hurried and handed them over before standing awkwardly to the side as he examined them. He nodded his approval at the first, but paused at the second. “Look, Wormwood, I get it, I do, but I can’t just give you special treatment.” “You told me if I brought you a doctor’s note-” He held up a hand to silence her. “That’s why you need to come up with a hand sign.” She furrowed her brows in confusion. “Look, flash me the peace sign, a thumbs up, hell, flip me the bird, I don’t care. I’ll make up some reason for you to leave the classroom, but you can’t ask to use the restroom in front of everyone.” “Why though?” “C’mon, you’re the genius here. Look, cause if I let you, then everyone else will ask too, and I can’t just let everyone in the class wander the halls whenever they want. She’ll-” He stopped mid-sentence. “Ah, you know what, never mind. Just don’t abuse it.” Matilda gazed up at him feeling even more puzzled. “O-oh okay.” So was she supposed to make a hand sign or not? She scurried back to her desk and waited for the bell to ring. Matilda had to admit class was going much more smoothly today than the previous two. The small things that had set Matilda on edge didn’t seem to bother her as much. She could be patient when Bruce tripped over his words while reading, even if she had read the paragraph ten times by the time he got through it once. Or Brittany’s never ending complaints of “I don’t get it” in math. The thing Matilda couldn’t seem to get over was her boredom. She was starting to welcome Hortensia’s crude drawings, and the pokes and prods of her classmates wanting to know how she had skipped five grades. How had following along turned school into something so boring? Matilda had never been so happy when the lunch bell rang. She grabbed the book she had been reading out of her backpack and stood up to stretch. Finally! She could do whatever she wanted to for the next thirty minutes. “A book?” Hortensia asked. “Leave it, we’re playing kickball in the field again. It’ll be way more fun than reading.” Matilda looked down at Hortensia’s bandaged leg. Did this girl learn nothing? “I’m not wearing the right footwear for kickball.” Matilda pointed out. They both looked down at her pink Mary Jane shoes with the purple butterflies on the sides. “Let me have them, I’ll see if anyone will switch with you for the afternoon.” Matilda wanted to point out no one’s feet would even come close to being as small, but arguing with Hortensia when she was bound and determined to make something happen was like arguing with a brick wall. So Matilda silently kicked them off and handed them over. She grabbed her book and sat on a nearby picnic bench to read. She figured Hortensia would realize her mistake and bring her shoes back eventually. At least she’d get to read. Only, when Hortensia came back, she didn’t have Matilda’s shoes, she had someone else’s brown sneakers. Not only that, but they fit! Well, sort of. They were a little big, but with a second knot, there wasn’t much slip. She wanted to ask how in the world she had gotten them, but she had a feeling she didn’t want to know. “Why do you want me to play kickball with you guys? You know I’m going to be terrible at it, right?” Matilda asked Hortensia as they walked out to the field where the majority of the older kids had gathered and began picking teams. Hortensia flashed her another Cheshire grin. “Not necessarily.” They made their way into the crowd to be selected for teams. Hortensia was picked nearly right away, despite the bandages and slight limp. Matilda on the other hand was chosen dead last. Even Bruce Bogtrotter was chosen before her. Matilda sighed. She’d rather be reading. Matilda stared over at the opposite team, where Hortensia was laughing with some of her friends. Was she just trying to make Matilda look bad? No, that couldn’t be it, it was obvious just looking at her size she’d be terrible. She stood off to the side and watched as they flipped a coin to see who’d go first. “Heads! Yes!” An older boy called. It looked like her team was kicking first. She saw Hortensia flash her a wink before running off to the outfield. Matilda shook her head and took her place in the very back of the line in the hopes she’d never get to go up. She watched with mild amusement as the older kids ran and chased each other. It was better than class, but still. Why couldn’t Hortensia just let her read? Matilda was five spots away from kicking now. She watched the biggest looking boy, besides Bruce, kick the ball and send it sailing through the air. Matilda was sure no one could catch it, until she saw Hortensia sprinting for all she was worth and snatch it before it could land. Matilda had to admit she was good. There was the echoing of cheers from the outfield as Hortensia threw the ball back to the pitcher. “First out!” She called. Matilda was four spots away now. Then three. Why wasn’t the opposing team getting them out? Was it wrong to root for the opposite team? Two spots. One spot. Doug scooped the ball off the ground and got the kicker out at first. Oh no, now it was her turn. How had she gotten into this situation? She hadn’t even wanted to play. Matilda could hear the outfield begin to laugh. “Move in.” they yelled. She watched as everyone came much closer. Of course they would, she couldn’t kick very far compared to them. Then she noticed something strange. Everyone had come closer. Everyone except for Hortensia that was. It almost looked like she had backed up even. But why? She watched as Hortensia stuck her fingers to the sides of her temple and closed her eyes. Huh? Matilda stared at the pitcher who had a large cocky smile on his face. What did she care? She knew she’d be out. “Ready?” Matilda nodded. He rolled the ball, her foot came up to meet it and- she missed. “STRIKE ONE!” The pitcher yelled. He was laughing now, but not with her. At her. She was getting annoyed. What did they expect? She looked at Hortensia one more time. Again, she made the strange hand signs. She stared blankly until. Oh. So that’s why Hortensia wanted her to play. But that was cheating, wasn’t it? Matilda looked at her classmates who were laughing. It was just a game. It wasn’t like anything was on the line. She bit her lip and thought it over. She couldn’t use her powers if her foot didn’t make contact with the ball. Matilda nodded to the pitcher. She’d get it this time! She swung her foot and …missed again. There was more cheering and laughing. “STRIKE TWO.” Again Hortensia gave the signal, and this time Matilda understood. What if she used her powers to slow the ball down a little? She nodded to Hortensia this time. The pitcher rolled the ball again, but instead of running forward, she followed it with her eyes and mumbled,” Slow down. Slow down.” It was barely moving by the time it got to her. She kicked as hard as she could. Yes! Contact! Matilda ran as she watched the ball roll back towards the opposing team, now picking up speed instead of slowing down. The first player was in position to scoop it up, only the ball had suddenly changed direction! It rolled off to the right now as two more players scampered after it. Matilda came to a stop at first base, now breathing heavy and giggling like mad. Huh, this was fun after all. She broke her connection and let them scoop up the ball. “Lucky kick.” The first baseman said. There seemed to be a lot of lucky plays that game for many of her teammates. Balls were kicked impossibly high and far, pitches were slow, and every once in a while, the ball seemed to hit an invisible rock in the dirt and change direction. “You’re right that was fun!” Matilda said as they walked into the cafeteria. “I meant use your powers on your turn, not for your whole team!” Hortensia growled in her ear. “You little cheater.” Matilda looked down at her feet as they stood in line to get lunch. “Oh yeah, where’s my shoes?” “Oh, I traded them with some little kid, if you see him, he’ll be glad to give them back.” Hortensia said. “What? He? How’d you get a boy to trade shoes with me?” Matilda asked. She didn’t like where this was going. “I may have told him I’d stick his head in the toilet if he didn’t.” Hortensia admitted. “Hortensia!” Matilda grumbled. She let her head fall in her hands. “Why? Did you at least get a name, so I can give them back.” “Nigel, I think.” Matilda could feel the color draining from her face. No! She didn’t! “You…threatened a kid…in my mom’s class!?” She hissed. Ohh they were in deep trouble. Oh no! Oh no! “Oh, was he in Miss Honey’s class?” Hortensia shrugged. “What’s the big deal? Just go to her classroom and give them back before she notices.” She glanced at Matilda and frowned. “What’s with you? You look like you’re going to be sick.” “She already knows everything.” Matilda whispered. She could feel her anger from across the school. She was tempted to slip off the shoes and make a break for it. No she couldn’t do that, running would make her look guilty. Matilda hadn’t done anything wrong. She thought it was a voluntary trade! Oh no, she was coming this way! “It was nice knowing you.” Matilda whispered. “What? What’s she going to do, ask to trade back without saying please? Miss Honey’s the nicest person here.” Hortensia said with a scoff. “Not if you threaten one of her students.” Matilda said with a wince. The cafeteria doors violently slammed open. There stood Miss Honey looking angrier than Matilda had ever seen her. She gulped. Matilda watched as her eyes scanned the room before stopping on her. She gulped again. Miss Honey had Matilda’s shoes in her hand. She pointed at them, then at the space in front of her. …………………………………………….. “You want to explain to me why I found Nigel Hicks crying and wearing your shoes!” Miss Honey demanded. Both Matilda and Hortensia were shaking now from their chairs in the headmasters' office. “I-I thought it was a voluntary trade. With a girl!” Matilda said. “Do those look like a girl's shoes?!” Matilda looked down at her feet. Now that Miss Honey mentioned it, no. No they did not. “And you’ve gotten them all dirty! What were you doing? Why did you even need them?” “So she could play kickball with the rest of the class.” Hortensia chimed in. “Nigel just happened to be the only small enough person I came across.” “So you threatened to put his head in the toilet!?” “I wasn’t actually gonna do it!” Hortensia said. “It doesn’t matter!” Miss Honey said sounding disgusted. “Go clean them off and give them back to him. I’d give you a detention if I could. This school has had enough bullies!” “I think that’s a fair punishment.” Mr. Trilby said. “Hortensia, you have detention with Miss Honey after school. You’re excused.” Hortensia hung her head, took the shoes, and left. Matilda sat in her chair, avoiding Miss Honey’s glare. “I’m disappointed in you, Matilda.” Miss Honey said. Matilda gaped up at Miss Honey. “All I wanted to do was read! I only told her I didn’t have the right shoes, so she’d leave me alone. I didn’t know what she did to get them!” “Why didn’t you just tell her you didn’t want to play?!” “Because no one cares what I want!” Matilda yelled back. “That is not true, Matilda!” Miss Honey said firmly. “I care.” “Like you cared what I wanted yesterday.” Matilda said darkly. “Matilda! That is not- that’s not even… just…just go back to class.” Miss Honey said through gritted teeth. The two locked eyes for a moment and stared each other down before Matilda got up and headed for the door. “And Matilda…” She glanced back over her shoulder just as her hand gripped the door knob. “Meet me here after class lets out. You have detention too.” Miss Honey groaned as she heard the door slam. Oh, that girl! She knew just how to hit where it hurt! “I don’t like this, sir. I don’t think I can do this.” Miss Honey said into her hands. “I don’t like punishing children.” “Then I’m more sure than ever I’ve made the right choice.” Miss Honey sighed as she made her way back to her classroom. She thought they were on good terms after last night, but apparently not. Jenny had been so sure Matilda understood the procedure had been for her own good. She tried to tell herself it was no different from any parent taking their kid in for a vaccine. Of course, they wouldn’t be happy about it, but it still had to be done. It’s not like she could just let a five-year-old make medical decisions for herself. It was ridiculous! Matilda would just have to get over it. Decisions being made for you was all part of growing up, yet…she couldn’t shake the feeling this ran deeper than yesterday. And what was with that attitude? That was so unlike her! She hadn’t planned on punishing her at all until she opened her mouth. At least now Jenny didn’t feel so bad about offering her up as free child labor. The only difference was now she would be telling Matilda to go through the expense reports instead of asking her. At least for today. It’s not like either of them thought she could figure it out in less than an hour, or really, at all. Mr. Trilby had been studying them all week. It really had been a dumb idea. “I know you, with your many college degrees, can’t figure this out, Mr. Trilby, but how about letting my five-year-old take a look?” Miss Honey shook her head trying to clear it from this afternoon's events as she stood outside her classroom. She took a deep breath, put on a smile, and went on with her afternoon. … It was almost an hour before school let out when Miss Honey first heard her classroom door open. She looked up, but there was no one there. She looked around the room. Had someone left? Miss Honey did a quick head count. She frowned in confusion. Everyone was present and accounted for. Maybe it was a draft? She got up and closed the door. Miss Honey got halfway back to her desk when she heard it again. She spun on her heel. The door was open again. What was going on? She hadn’t had anything weird happen in here since Matilda left…Oh… Miss Honey tiptoed back to the door and poked her head outside. There she found a small childlike figure, with their back against the wall, and head in their lap quietly sobbing. Miss Honey looked back at her class. They were all pre-occupied with their coloring assignments. She stepped out of her classroom, closed the door behind her, and joined the figure on the floor. “Matilda, why aren’t you in class? What are you doing out here?” “I-I’m so-rry f-f-for wh-at I sa-id.” the figure on the ground managed to choke out. Miss Honey bit her lip. The lights in the hallway were beginning to flicker. “I-I c-c-couldn’t st-top think-ing ab-about it and- and- then I couldn-t b-b-breathe and o-one of t-t-the li-ghts in the cl-classroom blew!” “Matilda, I need you to try and calm down.” Miss Honey whispered. There was a loud, angry buzzing sound. She stared at the lights overhead. The three nearest them were beginning to surge brighter and brighter. She had to think of something. Miss Honey jumped to her feet, yanked Matilda to hers, and pulled her into the dark storage closet. “Shh shh shh, it’s alright, you’re alright.” “I’m sorry! I’m sorry!” Matilda sobbed, arms now tightly wrapped around Miss Honey’s waist. “Shh, let’s see if we can find a spot to sit down, and then we can talk.” She moved her feet around to see how much room there was before sliding down and pulling Matilda into her lap. “Sweetie, what’s been going on with you? I thought we were okay after last night.” “We are.” Matilda muttered into Miss Honey’s shoulder in between sniffles. “Then why did you say that earlier?” “I’m sorry!” Matilda cried. “I know you are, but why did you say it?” Matilda remained quiet for some time. “C’mon, talk to me.” “I was angry.” Matilda mumbled. “You seem to be angry a lot recently, you want to tell me what’s that about?” “I can’t explain it.” Matilda said. “Can you try?” Matilda sighed. “It’s like no one hears me, or is listening, or cares what I want.” “You said that earlier, but I don’t understand what you mean. This isn’t about yesterday, is it?” “No, not really.” Matilda mumbled before letting out her held breath. “My stomach feels great. I was even able to run without it hurting.” “While I’m certainly happy to hear you’re feeling better, I’m still not following.” “I thought I wanted to go to normal classes, but they're awful! I never thought I’d ever dislike school so much.” Miss Honey frowned. “It’s only been three days, Matilda, give it time.” Matilda let out a frustrated groan. “This is what I mean! No one’s listening!” Miss Honey held her tongue and sighed. “Alright, Matilda, I’m listening. What is it you’re trying to say?” “It doesn’t matter if it’s three days, or three months or three years! It’s not going to work, I’m so frustrated being forced to stay with the class I want to pull my hair out! I could have read five chapters by the time it takes the class to get through one! I feel so trapped being stuck at the pace of the slowest learner!” Miss Honey frowned as Matilda’s words began to sink in. She was right. This wasn’t something time would fix. Neither would moving her up another grade nor two. It wasn’t even about not liking the teacher or wanting to be around her. Matilda just wasn’t built for typical schooling of any grade level. It would only hold her back. She’d just run into the same problem again and again and again. What she needed was the ability to work at her own pace with a private tutor. “I think I’m finally hearing you.” Miss Honey said with a sigh. “You really were better off in my class. Oof.” She felt Matilda crash into her and squeeze. Miss Honey held her for a moment before letting go. “Let’s get out of this closet. You can stay with me the rest of the day. Actually,” Miss Honey smiled mischievously. “You’re going to serve your detention early.” “What?” Matilda asked in a high-pitched tone. “Don’t think you’re getting out of trouble.” They both stood up, and Miss Honey led her into the classroom and to her old desk. “Sit.” Miss Honey went back to her desk, pulled out a weeks worth of projects and the necessary supplies and set them on Matilda’s desk. “For your detention,” Miss Honey said with a grin. “You’ll be doing arts and crafts.”

Matilda stood in front of Mr. Larson, nervously stepping from foot to foot despite the pain in her stomach. The laxative had done nothing but give her cramps. She had tried to go several times before they left for school, but Matilda was able to produce nothing but small amounts of gas. “Well that wasn’t very smart of you, was it, child genius?” He had the note Miss Honey had written out explaining her situation. Matilda clenched her hands into fists by her sides. “You should have waited until the weekend to flush your system, not midweek when you know you can’t leave class. And why was this written by your former teacher?” “She’s my mom.” Matilda said through clenched teeth. “So that’s why you had so much special treatment.” He sneered, making Matilda begin to see red. “Well a note from mommy isn’t going to fly either. Come back with a doctor's note if it’s so bad.” Matilda was silently growling now. It was so unfair! She spotted the coffee sitting on his desk. If he wanted to be so petty, then she would too! She focused her eyes and commanded in her head for the cup to tip over. It wobbled a bit before crashing down as a satisfying wave of brown liquid coated his desk. She let out her held breath and walked to her seat as Mr. Larson scrambled to clean up the mess. When Matilda took her seat, she turned her head to find Hortensia smirking at her. “I know what you did.” She whispered. “He made me mad.” Matilda muttered. She wasn’t in the mood to play innocent. She was worried the laxative would kick in at the most in opportune time possible, even if the cramping had stopped an hour ago. Her stunt had bought them all an extra ten minutes, as Mr. Larson ran back and forth with paper towels while he grumbled about his cheap, uneven desk. “I told you he’s a dick.” Hortensia whispered. Matilda nodded her head in agreement, now feeling a tad guilty about not taking her serious before. She had always assumed Hortensia had deserved whatever punishment she was given, minus the chokey of course. While he was nothing compared to the Trunchbull, he was even farther from the kind woman she had grown accustomed to who cared deeply for each of her students. Maybe there was once a time Mr. Larson enjoyed teaching, but as the day went on, Matilda was convinced he had lost whatever passion he had for it long ago. He droned on in a bored voice that made Matilda feel sleepy. It was an hour and a half before lunch when one of her fears came to fruition. While it wasn’t the worst case scenario, she found her full bladder to be increasingly painful. Matilda tried shifted her weight, focusing on her textbook, and even daydreaming about what she could do to him with her powers when realization dawned that she wasn’t going to win this round. The blockage was putting too much pressure on her bladder, and vice versa. The longer she tried to hold it, the more pain she was in and the more obvious she was making her situation. “Wormwood, sit up and sit still!” Mr. Larson barked. Matilda flinched and instinctively obeyed, but as soon as she did, her body had thrown in the white towel. She tried desperately to act natural as she felt the pull-up under her growing warm and expanding. A mixture of disgust and relief intertwined inside her as the excess pressure eased away. “That’s cheating. Suffer like the rest of us.” Hortensia whispered. Matilda could feel her face begin to glow bright red. Hortensia snickered. “I was just joking, but the look on your face says it’s true. Have fun sitting in it until lunch.” If there was one thing Matilda hated more than having to use a pull-up, it was having to sit in it afterwards. She took her frustrations out on Mr. Larson, inconveniencing him in any little way she could manage. If he threw a crumpled up piece of paper towards the trashcan, Matilda would make sure he would miss, if he set anything on his desk, she’d knock it over. “Someone’s feeling a little feisty today, I like it.” Hortensia said once they had been dismissed for lunch. Matilda shrugged and picked up her backpack. The only thing on her mind now was changing. She was almost to the door when she heard Mr. Larson’s grating voice. “Wormwood, backpacks stay in the classroom.” Matilda sucked in a breath of air. “I need something out of it.” She said. “Then take what you need and leave your backpack here.” “It’s personal.” She said through clenched teeth. There was no way she was going to carry a pull-up around class and down the hall like it was nothing. “What, don’t tell me you’re on your period.” He said sarcastically. Matilda bit her cheek in annoyance before dropping her bag back at her desk. She opened it and stared at what she needed. She didn’t even have a sweater to hide it in. Matilda zipped up her backpack and put it back under her seat. She’d have to go without and hope she didn’t have another accident today. Once in the bathroom stall, she got to work trying to clean herself up. She wished she had a wet wipe instead of the cheap, single sheets of school toilet paper. She looked down at her dress. It was going to feel weird going without underwear. Maybe she should stay inside in case it gets windy. “Yo, runt, that you?” Hortensia called out. “Yes.” Matilda grumbled. She heard footsteps approaching her stall door before a hand slid under the bottom holding… oh no! She yanked the pull-up out of Hortensia’s hand. “Did you pull that out of my backpack? Did anyone see you?” “No one saw, relax. I put it under my shirt when no one was looking.” Matilda was about to snap at her for going through her things, but stopped. She looked at the pull-up. She really did need it. “Thanks.” She bent over to try and put it on, but groaned in pain. How was she going to get this on? After stumbling, banging into the wall and dropping the pull-up several times, she groaned in frustration. “I can’t do it!” “Sorry, my help stops at delivery.” Hortensia said. “I’m not diapering you.” “I wasn’t asking you to.” Matilda said. She sat on the toilet and tried to catch her breath, feeling weak and dizzy from not eating. Even sitting down, she couldn’t reach far enough. Now what was she going to do? “I’ll be right back.” Hortensia called. Now what was she up to? Matilda sat, feeling angry and frustrated. She was tired of being in pain, and she was tired of dealing with one adult after another who treated kids like trash. Matilda froze when she heard the door open again. “I brought reinforcements.” Hortensia called. “Sweetie, is everything okay? Hortensia said you needed my help with something.” Miss Honey’s voice called out. “Hortensia!” Matilda groaned. “It’s nothing, mo- Miss Honey.” Matilda sighed, this really was what she needed, she’d better not send her away. “I can’t get a new thing on. My stomach hurts too much to bend over.” “Can you open the door?” Matilda slowly got to her feet and unlatched the door. “Dear, you look awful.” Miss Honey said. “Why are you so out of breath? And you’re all sweaty.” “From trying to get it on.” Matilda mumbled. “Come on out, let’s go somewhere with more space. Where is it?” Matilda pointed to a corner in the stall. “Sorry, I dropped it and couldn’t pick it back up.” “It’s all right, I got it. Let’s go in the big stall, and I’ll help you.” Miss Honey ushered her in and closed the door behind them. She bent down and held the pull-up open. “Can you step in?” Matilda did, and Miss Honey hoisted it up her legs for her. “There, all done.” “Thank you.” Matilda mumbled. “Matilda, did you have an accident during class?” She asked softly. “What about the note? Did you not give it to him?” “I did, but-” Matilda hung her head. “He was a total dick to her. I saw.” Hortensia called out. Matilda could see Miss Honey’s naturally gentle expression begin to harden. “How so?” She called back out. Matilda winced as Hortensia filled her in. Miss Honey let out an angry sort of huff, before her expression softened again. “Was it from the laxative?” she whispered. “No, it just hurt too much to hold, I’m sorry. It wasn’t on purpose.” “Sweetie, You don’t have to apologize. I know it wasn’t on purpose. I’m concerned because the medicine from last night didn’t work like we expected.” Miss Honey sighed. “I’m sorry, Matilda, but I need to take you into the doctor today.” “What? No! I’ll be fine!” Matilda insisted, unlatching the stall door and stepping out. “Matilda,” Miss Honey said softly. “Something’s wrong, you couldn’t even put on a pull-up by yourself. I need to get you checked out.” “You do look like shit.” Hortensia chimed in. “Language.” Miss Honey said, but her eyes never left Matilda’s face. “Let’s go talk to Mr. Trilby and see if I can leave early.” “Can’t we give it another day and try the medicine again tonight?” “Honey, you look like you’re about to collapse at any moment. You’re not eating, you can hardly move, in fact here,” Matilda whimpered in pain as Miss Honey picked her up, but rested her head against Miss Honey’s shoulder as her mom walked down the hall. Matilda couldn’t help but tense when she saw Mr. Larson coming up the opposite way. She was about to ask Miss Honey to put her down, but he had already spotted them. “Miss Wormwood, what do you think you’re doing? You should be in the cafeteria, you can’t just run to your mommy every break.” Matilda could feel Miss Honey tighten her grip around her. “She’s sick.” “That’s no excuse, Miss Honey, we have rules in this school. Maybe if you hadn’t coddled her in your class she’d adapt quicker.” Matilda could feel herself practically getting squeezed now. It was as if Jenny was afraid he would pluck the girl from her arms. “I’m taking her to the doctor, she can hardly move. And I wasn’t coddling her, do you really expect someone with her intellect to sit there and listen to me teach the class their Abc’s when she can already do long division in her head? And what’s this I hear about you not honoring my note?” Miss Honey said, her tone growing lower and more dangerous. Mr. Larson scoffed. “Who gives a child a laxative on a school night? Why couldn’t you wait until the weekend? Or how about waiting until after school to take her to the doctor? Do you always set such a poor example? Don’t you have a class to teach? Shirking your responsibilities for the whims of one child.” He shook his head. “Wait until after school?” Miss Honey’s voice was rising now. “For all I know, her god-damn appendix is going to burst!” Matilda whimpered. Her appendix? She hadn’t even thought of it being anything serious! And wow! She’d rarely ever heard Jenny swear before and never at a teacher! “My responsibilities are to her first, so if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to Mr. Trilby’s office, telling him I’m leaving, and then we are going to get on a bus and go to the hospital.” “There’s no need.” A voice said from behind them. Matilda could feel Jenny tense as she slowly turned to find Mr. Trilby standing there. “I’ll give you a ride.” … “Thank you, sir.” Miss Honey said. “I’m sorry for all the commotion, that really wasn’t like me and-” “We’ll talk about it later.” Mr. Trilby said as he pulled into the hospital parking lot. “I hope everything is well.” “Me too.” Miss Honey said quietly, before collecting Matilda from the back seat and carrying her inside. … “Well, the good news is her appendix is just fine. ” the doctor said. “There’s no sign of a fever or infection, and the ultrasound came back normal.” They both let out their held breath. Matilda had spent the entire ultrasound looking at the screen trying to tell if anything looked like it was going to blow. “So it really is just trapped gas?” Miss Honey asked. “Well, no, it’s not that either.” “Then what is it?” Miss Honey asked. “It’s nothing serious, she’s just constipated. It’s common in young children, especially if they’ve been through anything stressful recently. Usually, I’d just send her home with recommendations on dietary changes, things like eat more fiber, drink more water, and suggest an over the counter laxative.” “Oh, I’m so relieved.” Miss Honey said. Matilda winced. Why had he said “usually”? “In her case though, I don’t like a few things here. One being the fact that she hasn’t been able to eat, and two, how distended her belly is.” He lifted Matilda’s gown and pointed out the raised areas. “She’s not going to need surgery, is she?” Miss Honey asked. “Oh no, no nothing like that, but we are going to help her get all that nasty stuff out of her system before she leaves. A nurse is going to come and perform a simple irrigation of her bowels.” “No!” Matilda nearly shouted. “Not that, please!” She made herself into a ball despite the pain and hugged her knees. “But, Matilda, sweetheart, once it’s over you’re going to feel a lot better.” Miss Honey stood up and began to gently rub circles on Matilda’s back. “You promised!” Matilda said, whose voice now cracked with sobs. “You promised they wouldn’t!” “Sweetie, when did I promise that?” Miss Honey asked gently. “Last night!” Matilda choked out. Miss Honey thought back to their conversation and cringed with realization. “Oh, Matilda, I thought you were talking about that test with the camera. I didn’t realize you were referring to this.” “Please, don’t let them.” Matilda begged. Miss Honey bit her lip. She had never seen Matilda like this, and it broke her heart. “Is there any other option?” Miss Honey asked. “Something less…invasive?” “I mean, I could recommend over the counter laxatives, but that would take several days to clear the entire thing, and to be honest, I wouldn’t feel right sending her home like this. This really is the fastest and safest method.” Miss Honey pinched her eyes closed before stroking Matilda’s head. “I’m sorry, baby, but it needs to be done.” she whispered before nodding her approval to the doctor. She would have normally taken Matilda’s wishes into more consideration, but it was clear she wasn’t acting herself. “It’ll be okay, sweetie, it will! You’ve been through so much worse than this.” Matilda didn’t say anything. “Compared to everything else, this is nothing.” Jenny whispered as she continued to stroke her back. “And I’ll be with you the whole time, okay?” She smiled as she saw Matilda slowly nod her head. “There’s my brave girl. It’ll all be over soon.” “Do you think she’d be able to make it to the bathroom in time?” A nurse asked, wheeling in an IV pole with a bag and tubing attached. “Probably not.” “That’s alright, It’s a little far from here for this anyway.” Miss Honey had noticed that too. Matilda would be a wreck if she had an accident out in the hall. She shuddered to think what her powers might do. “Unfortunately, the bathroom isn’t a sterile environment, otherwise we’d do it there. It would make our jobs much easier.” Miss Honey watched as she fiddled with the equipment, before donning a fresh pair of gloves. “Alright, Matilda, are you ready?” Matilda shook her head and whimpered. Miss Honey walked to the other side of the bed, and took a seat, so she was now face to face with the terrified girl, before scooting up as close as possible. “Give me your hand. It’s alright, you can get through this.” Matilda reached over and grabbed onto Jenny’s outstretched hand and squeezed. “That’s it.” The small girl let out a loud whimper and grimaced. “You’re doing good.” The nurse said. Jenny’s eyes shifted from the bag as it slowly began to empty and back to the trembling girl’s tear streaked face. “Now you’re going to feel the need to go right away, but I want you to try and hold it for at least five minutes.” Matilda clutched her stomach and let out a panicked sounding moan. “The bag’s almost empty, you’re doing great.” “Mommy!” Matilda began to cry. “I can’t!” “Yes you can. I’m right here, just keep squeezing my hand.” Miss Honey said. Gone was the overly mature child genius and in its place laid the trembling and terrified five-year-old girl. Jenny watched as sweat began to mix with the child’s tears. “You did it, it’s all gone. I just need you to hold it in a little while longer.” the nurse said, removing the cord. “I can’t!” Matilda cried. She was writhing and twisting on the bed, and judging by the smell, some of the concoction had already begun to leak out. Jenny’s heart ached. No wonder she didn’t want to do this. “You’re halfway there, sweetie. Just a little bit longer.” Jenny said. She looked around the room. Where exactly were they going to have her release it? She was going to blow any minute. Jenny met eyes with the nurse with the stopwatch before noticing someone coming in with a familiar looking plastic object. Oh, Matilda wasn’t going to like this, Jenny thought as she took in the moaning girl on the bed. Then again, she might not even care at this point. Jenny watched as the second person lifted Matilda’s gown, which was now clearly soiled and stained. “Let’s just take this off you, actually.” He quickly untied the strings and threw it in the laundry hamper, before rolling Matilda onto the bed pan. “One more minute. You can do it.” “I-I can’t!” Jenny watched the clock in the corner of the room. 50 more seconds. 45 seconds. 40 seconds. But when the clock hit 37 seconds, Matilda’s body said, “no more” and began to release. “It’s alright, that’s close enough.” the nurse said. “You did good, kid.” “That’s it, you’re doing great.” Jenny said, giving Matilda’s hand a squeeze. “It’ll all be over soon, just let it all out.” But it was clear to Miss Honey, and anyone within a 20 yard radius, that Matilda couldn’t have stopped it even if she wanted to. “How are you doing there, mom? You’re looking a little green.” “I-I’m okay.” Miss Honey said, fighting the urge to gag. She had seen more than she ought to have when they had switched out the pans and the smell was nearly unbearable. How had all that come out of such a small girl? No wonder her stomach had hurt. “Feel free to step out into the hall if you need to for some fresh air. These clean outs are never pretty. Some of these have even turned our more seasoned veteran’s stomach’s to putty. One older gentleman we had insisted he could make it to the bathroom, only made it halfway, and one of our orderlies slipped in it and fell.” “Oof.” Miss Honey groaned, that story had done nothing to help her stomach. “But seriously, the worst is over now.” Jenny looked down at Matilda, who laid out on the bed looking shell shocked and exhausted. The episodes were coming further and further apart now. “I think I will get some air, thank you.” Jenny said. She stood up to leave, but found Matilda’s hand still gripping hers tightly. “Please don’t go.” Matilda mumbled. Jenny immediately sat back down and clasped Matilda’s hand in both of hers. “I’ll stay as long as you need me to.” She pressed Matilda’s hand to her lips and gave it a kiss. Once things had all calmed down and Matilda had fallen asleep, Jenny turned when she heard one of the nurses speak to her. “I noticed she was wearing a pull-up when she came in. Has she been having trouble with toilet training?” Miss Honey shook her head. “Bed wetting mostly, and some issues at school. Her new teacher is…” Miss Honey clenched her fists and made a frustrated grunting sound. “He doesn’t let students use the bathroom during class.” “What kind of teacher doesn’t let first year children use the bathroom? Does he really expect them to hold it?” “She recently transferred to year five, and he won’t make an exception to the rules for her. Her body just isn’t developed enough to compare to the older children. I don’t know what he’s thinking.” “Year five?” The nurse asked wide-eyed. Miss Honey smiled and nodded. “She should actually be in year seven, but I’m not ready for her to leave the school I teach at. I want to keep her close just a little while longer. “What school is that?” “Crunchem Hall.” The nurse’s eyes went wide. “You haven’t heard? They haven’t announced it yet?” “Announced what?” “My husbands a member of the education board. They’ve been trying for years to build a secondary school in that lot across from it, but that headmistress kept refusing. She was out voted last month. They haven’t decided if it will be a separate school, or an addition to Crunchem Hall, but if it is, you’d be able to have her there with you all the way to year 13.” It was the first Jenny had heard of this. Could she really watch over Matilda until she was done with mandatory education? At the rate she learned and absorbed information, she’d be done and off to university before she was even ten. They’d cross that bridge when they came to it. “That would be wonderful.” “And not to change the subject, but you might see an improvement with the bed-wetting now. The impacted stool could have been putting pressure on the bladder. It’s another common symptom.” Could it really be so simple? “But this has been going on for months.” “That blockage didn’t form overnight either.” Could this really not be my fault, Jenny wondered. Was it possible it was nothing overly complicated as a psychic connection after all, but just run-of-the-mill constipation? “Last month she was sick with the stomach bug. Wouldn’t that have cleared a blockage though? The bed-wetting has been going on long before then.” “It’s possible it went around, but I’m just speculating.” “I certainly hope that’s all this was. She’s very self-conscious about it.” …………………………………… “I’m so sorry you had to go through all that.” Miss Honey said, hugging the girl in her lap to her chest as they rode the bus back towards home. It was clear Matilda was still cross with her over the whole situation. The diaper Miss Honey had requested in case another episode struck while on the bus wasn’t helping either. “I bet you feel much better though.” She kissed the top of the girl's head. Matilda grumbled something Jenny couldn’t quite catch, but didn’t try to pull away. After another twenty minutes, she was sitting sideways, with her arms wrapped around Jenny’s stomach and her head resting on her chest while Jenny stroked her back. “You did so well in there. I’m so proud of you.” Miss Honey whispered in her ear. “How about we stop at the store on the way home and pick up some ice cream?” Matilda grunted into Jenny’s shirt. “So you don’t want any ice cream?” Matilda pulled her head away a few inches. “I didn’t say that.” …………… After dinner, ice cream, and a long soak in the tub, Matilda climbed into bed without bothering to put on a nightshirt and turned off her bedside lamp. “You don’t want to read tonight?” Miss Honey asked. Matilda shook her head. She was too exhausted. “Should we just go to sleep then?” Matilda nodded before she noticed Jenny doing something out of character. She eyed Miss Honey out of the corner of her eye as she began to undress for bed, something she had always done in the privacy of the bathroom. Instead of putting on one of her nightgowns, she slipped under the covers next to Matilda and gave her a shy sort of uncomfortable smile. “Do you want to cuddle for a bit?” Matilda did. Very much so. “I hate it.” Matilda mumbled, now spread out and relaxed in Jenny’s arms. “This?” Miss Honey asked confused. “Mr. Larson’s class.” Jenny sighed. The kids hadn’t been exaggerating. He really was, a, a- well, that thing they had drawn. “Well, now you have all the necessary doctor’s notes, and I have a meeting with Mr. Trilby first thing in the morning.” “Us?” Matilda asked. Jenny sighed again. “No, me and Mr. Trilby. He set it up. I think I’m in trouble for leaving, but you know what, I’d do it all over again.” She squeezed Matilda tight. “But you better believe I’m going to give him an earful about that teacher of yours.” Matilda smiled in the darkness as she felt Jenny’s chest rise and fall with every breath. Miss Honey sure had come a long way.

It had been a close call. Matilda sighed contently as her bladder emptied into the toilet below. She had been too nervous to ask for a hall pass after what Miss Honey had said. As for Mr. Larson, Matilda was convinced he knew exactly what she wanted. He kept eyeing her, almost daring her to ask just so he could say, “see, you don’t belong here!” She had a feeling he had tried to stop her, but Matilda had been on a mission with only one thing on her mind. Now if only her stomach would stop hurting. She tried to push, but nothing happened, not even gas. She sighed, feeling disappointed. “You’re going to hit at the worst possible time aren’t you?” she muttered to her stomach. “Why won’t you work when it’s convenient for me!” “Uh, you okay in there?” Hortensia asked. Matilda hid her face in her hands. She hadn’t even heard anyone come in. “Great.” Matilda muttered, trying to push one last time. Another failure. When she came out of the stall, Hortensia was leaning against the sinks, waiting for her. “What?” “Mr. Larson sent me to check on you since you practically bolted.” “I’m fine.” Matilda mumbled. “And, uh, you always have conversations with yourself in the bathroom?’ Hortensia asked with a smirk. “Pretty much.” Hortensia looked her up and down. “You sure you’re okay? He can be a jerk, don’t take it personally.” Matilda shrugged. He had jumped at every opportunity to correct what she was doing, whether it was working ahead, looking at another book after she had finished the assignment early, or closing her eyes for a moment. “If I have to hear ‘Year five isn’t like year one’ one more time I might be sick.” Matilda said with a hint of a smile. The work itself was simple enough, but the classroom dynamics made her feel more lost than ever. Was this what Miss Honey wanted her to learn? Maybe it was just stress. “I think he wanted to talk to you.” Hortensia said. Matilda groaned. So she hadn’t imagined it. “When you’re done, come out to the field, we’re playing kickball.” “We’re not allowed in the field.” Matilda said. “Since Trunchbull’s gone, no one really cares anymore. It was her rule. Seems a waste not to play in a perfectly good space. Later.” She made her way back to the classroom before poking her head in. She found Mr. Larson eating a sandwich at his desk as he glanced over the newspaper. “You wanted to see me?” Matilda asked, a bit more timidly than she had meant. He waved her in, a mouth still full of sandwich and pointed at a nearby desk. She assumed he meant sit, so she took a seat, the desk much too large for her small frame. “So what do you think?” Mr. Larson asked. Matilda shrugged. “The work is fine.” “I have to admit, I’m shocked. You show up without warning and completely ace a quiz you haven’t studied for, not to mention you don’t even look like you’re old enough to read.” “I like to read.” Matilda said quietly. “And I’ve already done that section a few months ago.” Mr. Larson frowned. “Hortensia said you were in Miss Honey’s class. How did you already do that section?” He asked before taking another bite, a blob of mayonnaise falling onto his desk. “I did sort of independent studies in her class. She’d give me text books and let me work out of them in class.” “Ahh, that makes sense, no wonder you have a hard time paying attention. Well, unfortunately in my class, you won’t be able to go off and do your own thing. You’ll have to learn to follow along. Is this your first time in a real class? One that doesn’t have nap time and snacks.” “Yes.” She shifted uncomfortably. “So you must be some kind of genius or something to get moved five grades.” Matilda shrugged. She never knew what to say when people called her that. “Well, there’s more to being in year five than book smarts. I will have far more expectations for you than year one. There will be no talking out of turn, no leaving the classroom except for scheduled breaks, no eating or drinking during class.” Matilda gulped, she didn’t like that no leaving the class rule. Her stomach seemed to tighten even more in protest. “You will be expected to finish all assignments during class, and turn in all homework on time. There will be no naps, snacks, or arts and crafts.” Good, Matilda thought, she hated arts and crafts anyway. She nodded her head. “Any questions?” “No, Mr. Larson.” Matilda said quietly. He nodded his head and looked her over one last time. “You’re excused.” When Matilda tried to rise from the desk, she winced in pain. Her entire core now seemed to ache, and it hurt to move. Kickball was definitely out. If Mr. Larson noticed her discomfort, he didn’t say anything. She shuffled out the classroom and into the hall, closing the door behind her. She looked up at the clock, she only had ten minutes now until they would be shuffled to the cafeteria. The thought of eating seemed about as appealing as asking her new teacher if she could lay down in the back and take a nap during their next lesson. She took a couple steps towards the exit and froze. Maybe she should ask Mrs. Rodgers if she had anything for her stomach? It had never felt this hard before. Maybe she could nip it in the bud before anything bad happened. The last thing she wanted was diarrhea on her first day during a class she wasn’t allowed to leave. With Matilda’s mind made up, she slowly shuffled over to the office and to the nurse’s station. She found Mrs. Rodger’s handing an ice pack to, Matilda scowled, Hortensia. Why was she everywhere the moment she wanted privacy? “Sup,” Hortensia said. Matilda took one look at Hortensia’s leg and blanched. How in the world had she gotten that hurt so quickly? There was a large open gash covering her knee and ending halfway down her leg. “I was running the bases and tripped over a gopher hole.” Hortensia said before Matilda could ask. “And that’s why the fields off limits.” Miss Rodgers said. “You’re lucky you didn’t get broken glass in that scrape.” At the mention of shards of glass, both girls shuddered. “Leave the ice on it for another 15 minutes, you can go sit on the cot, I want to see it one more time to make sure the swellings gone down.” She waited until Hortensia had hobbled off, before addressing Matilda. “You didn’t get hurt trying to keep up with the older kids too, did you?” Miss Rodgers asked. Matilda shook her head and gingerly took the offered seat. “My stomach.” Matilda muttered. She heard Miss Rodger’s suck in a breath. “Your stomach again? It never ends with you, does it? It’s not like before, is it? Do you need a bucket? Do you think you’re going to be sick?” “No, not like that.” Matilda said. “It just hurts all over. It hurts to bend down and move. It’s like I ate rocks or something.” “Hmm, any other symptoms?” “No, do you have some pepto I can take?” “Sorry kid, nothing like that here. Open your mouth, let’s take your temperature.” Matilda hung her head. This wasn’t how she wanted her first day to go. “No fever, that’s good. Does this hurt?” Mrs. Rodgers poked around Matilda’s belly as the girl winced. “Ah, yep, it’s hard.” Matilda wasn’t sure what that meant. Did she have to go to the doctor again? “Honestly,” Mrs. Rodger’s said, “It’s most likely trapped air.” “Trapped air.” Matilda repeated and frowned. Seriously? “So it’s not going to make me sick during class or anything, right?” “I don’t think so, but you might be uncomfortable until you pass it.” “Do you have anything to make it stop hurting?” Matilda asked. The thought of getting through the rest of the day being scolded with a stomach ache was getting lower on her priority list. Part of her wanted to go back to Miss Honey’s class and say, “I quit,” while grabbing a mat and taking a nap. “I have fifteen minutes before I have to go back to class.” “Well, if you want relief, I suggest you lie on your stomach on the cot, stick your booty in the air and try and pass as much gas as you can.” Matilda looked at her horrified. She could hear Hortensia snickering in the back room with the cots. “I think I’ll be okay, thanks.” Matilda mumbled. She was about to get up and leave before Miss Rodger’s spoke again. “Better here than in the classroom.” That was how Matilda found herself curled somewhat in a ball with her knees tucked up to her stomach and her forehead resting on the cot trying to fart. She could hear Hortensia snickering beside her before something that sounded like a trumpet filled the room. Matilda groaned as she heard footsteps approaching. “There, do you feel better now?” Mrs. Rodger’s asked. Matilda shook her head. “That wasn’t me.” Now out of time and with no relief, Matilda trudged back to class, fearing the thought of accidentally farting in class. At this rate she’d probably get a detention. “I fart in class all the time and I never get in trouble.” Hortensia said. “The trick is to blame someone else before someone blames you.” By the end of the day, Matilda didn’t care if she farted in front of the queen let alone in class. Everything hurt to move. She’d gladly take a detention in exchange for mobility. It felt like she had eaten concrete. “Matilda, what’s wrong?” Miss Honey asked once she had entered her mothers' classroom. “Nothing,” Matilda said, forcing a smile on her face. Miss Honey scowled. “When will you start being honest with me?” Jenny said, arms crossed over her chest. “It’s written all over your face.” “I’m tired, it was a long day.” Matilda said, looking away. “And what’s this I hear about you spending your lunch in the office with a stomach ache?” “Traitor.” Matilda mumbled. “I’m fine, It’s just from stress or something.” Miss Honey let out an exasperated sigh. “You know you can tell me when you’re not feeling well.” “I’m not sick, she said it was just…” Matilda mumbled the rest. “Do I need to bounce you on my shoulder and burp you like a baby?” Miss Honey giggled, but stopped when she saw the look on Matilda’s face. “Well, I’m glad it’s nothing serious, but still. You look miserable. When we get home i’ll make you a heating pad for your tummy. Should I ask Mrs. Rodgers to drive us home?” “No, it’s okay, I can walk.” Matilda said. She didn’t think she could bend enough to get in and out of the car. “Alright, maybe some light exercise can help work things through.” Matilda silently groaned as she gingerly got into bed. She had homework, but it was simple enough. She completed them all before, but just the mere thought of sitting at the table was too much work. “Honey, are you sure it’s just gas? Maybe I should take you to the doctor.” “No.” Matilda groaned. “I just want to sleep, besides, I have homework.” “Okay, but if you get any worse, I’m calling the doctor and making an appointment.” Matilda groaned in acknowledgment and closed her eyes. Sometime later she could feel the blanket covering her lift and something nice and warm was placed on her stomach. “Thanks.” She hugged the sewn bag of rice to her stomach as tight as she could and drifted off to sleep. “Matilda, sweetie, wake up, dinners ready.” “I’m not hungry.” Came the muffled reply from underneath the covers. “Did you eat anything at all today?” Miss Honey took the silence to mean “no”. “You hardly ate anything last night either. Please try and eat something.” “I’m not hungry.” Matilda repeated. “Would you come out from under the blanket, so we can talk?” Miss Honey watched as ever so slowly, the blanket came down and a tear streaked face emerged. “Oh, sweetie,” She yanked the covers down off her. “Do you know exactly where it hurts?” “Everywhere.” Matilda whimpered. Miss Honey hurried to the bathroom and began searching the medicine cabinet. Since she had begun receiving an income, she had since stocked up on medicine for most childhood ailments. She pulled out the bottle of pink liquid, before shaking it and measuring it out. “I should have given you this before you fell asleep. Can you sit up?” Matilda winced as she painstakingly rose to her elbows and accepted the little cup. “I know it’s not fun to take medicine, but it will he- Oh, good job.” Matilda made a face of disgust before handing back the now empty cup. “It’ll be worth it, I promise.” It had taken a little less than an hour until Matilda was feeling well enough to move around again. She slowly shuffled around the room, gingerly testing her body’s limits. She still felt sore and bloated, but it was worlds better to how she was feeling before. “And you thought I bought too much.” Miss Honey said with a smile. “You did, I’ve never had a cold sore in my life.” “You’ve never had a cold sore in your life, yet.” Matilda carefully climbed up onto the kitchen chair and sat at the table. She supposed she had better do her homework now while she was feeling up to it. She retrieved her math textbook and opened it to her assignment. Matilda had never felt like doing math less than she did tonight. Now it seemed like a chore having to write out all the steps. “How do you like your new class?” Miss Honey asked. “It wasn’t a good first day.” Matilda answered after a pause to think it over. “Because of your stomach?” “Because of a lot of things.” she admitted. “I’m not a fan of Mr. Larson, he’s kind of…obnoxious.” Matilda said, trying to avoid Hortensia’s description of, “a dick.” “I hear that a lot about him. That’s too bad, I thought you wouldn’t have issues with him since you’re such a good student. He’s normally only strict with the slackers. Maybe once he gets to know you better, he’ll lighten up.” “I miss your class.” Matilda admitted. “I feel like I’m always in trouble.” “Maybe that’s just his way of reminding you of the rules. It’ll take some getting used to being in a more structured environment. I know I sort of let you do whatever you wanted as long as it was educational.” “Why can’t we just stick with that? I’ll learn more that way than I’ll ever learn in Mr. Larson’s class!” “Because there are some things you can’t learn from a book.” "Like what?" "Like socializing. You get so lost in your schoolwork you hardly communicate with any of the other kids. So I figured maybe being in a group of more mature children would spark your interest." Miss Honey explained. "You know I love your eagerness to learn, but you'll find life difficult if you don't have the social skills to go with it. I don't want you ending up like me." "More mature group of kids?" Matilda asked skeptically, before pulling out a crude drawing someone had slipped her during class featuring a certain body part of the male anatomy wearing glasses titled "Mr. Larson's True Form." Miss Honey made a noise between a snort, groan and a laugh. Matilda raised an eyebrow in surprise. Miss Honey cleared her throat. "Umm, you know girls mature faster than boys." She offered weakly. "It wasn't a boy." "Hortensia, you are not making this any easier." Miss Honey grumbled. "It's okay, I like sitting next to her. I find her antics amusing, and I think my day would have been much worse if I had been alone." Matilda said thinking back. "Even if she introduced me as "the runt she babysits" to her friends." Miss Honey rolled her eyes. "It's okay, I introduced myself as her tutor." "I'm sure she loved that." Miss Honey said with a grin. "I'm glad you're getting along, but the moment I catch you drawing depictions of teachers as genitalia, I'm moving you." They both giggled. "Aww, but I thought you wanted me to participate in crafts with the class, remember?" Matilda said before taking the drawing back and hovering her pen over it. "He's missing his bow tie anyway." "Matilda! Stop that." Miss Honey said as she laughed, before taking the drawing back and crumpling it up. "Feel up to eating anything yet? How's your stomach now?" "Better, but not back to normal." Matilda said as she rubbed her stomach. "It's still uncomfortable." "Hmm," Jennifer said. She sat on the bed and patted her lap. "Come here, I have an idea." Matilda narrowed her eyes. "You're not going to try and bounce me on your shoulder, are you?" Miss Honey chuckled. "You're a little too big for that, I want you to lay face down across my knees." Matilda gave her a puzzled expression. "No thank you, I think I'll be okay." "Oh, just come here." Matilda eyed her for a minute before setting her pencil down and hobbled over. "That's it, now lay down." "This is very uncomfortable." Matilda groaned, her head hanging down over Ms. Honey's legs. "You know I was just joking about the bow tie." "Uh-huh, sure you were." "Isn't it illegal for a teacher to strike a student?" "Hmm, but as of this morning I'm no longer your teacher, am I?" Miss Honey said, giving Matilda's backside a playful swat. "Go on, stretch out all the way." Matilda felt an arm lock around her waist. "What are you doing? Hey! Hey! Hey! No!!" Matilda shouted as Miss Honey's legs began jostling her up and down. "We're going to work it out of you the old-fashioned way." "You ARE trying to burp me!" Matilda groaned feeling Jenny's knees bouncing into her stomach. "And what if it's not a burp? What if it wants to come out the other end?" "Then let it. Your tummy will feel better, and I'll consider this a success." “In your face?” Matilda groaned. “Judging by how you like to pretend to be asleep, toot in bed, and then throw the covers over my head with psychic powers, I don’t think you care where my face is.” Matilda half snorted and half moaned. “Don’t make me laugh right now, it hurts. Can you stop? Please.” “Not until I hear some kind of noise come out of you.” “Mom, this really hurts. Stop!” Matilda breathed a sigh of relief as Miss Honey’s legs stopped kneading into her. “Sorry dear, I was hoping it would help break it up.” “It didn’t! It just really hu-” Matilda started to say before her words were cut off by a familiar pressure. She pushed herself up and shuffled to the bathroom, closing the door behind her. Please, she silently begged as she sat on the toilet, hoping for something more than just air, but no luck. It was just a small amount of gas. It was the third day she hadn’t gone, and now her stomach was paying the price. Curious about the treatment, she had looked it up, and now she realized curiosity came with a cost. She would NOT go to the doctor for this. Matilda looked up at the medicine cabinet. There had to be something in there. “Matilda, is everything okay?” She heard Miss Honey knock on the door. “Yes.” Matilda said before pinching the bridge of her nose. Miss Honey wanted her to be more honest. She let out a defeated sigh. “No.” She stood up and flushed the empty toilet bowl as she heard the door opening. “What’s wrong? Did it not work?” Matilda shook her head. “No gas at all?” “A little, but that’s the problem.” She closed the lid and took a seat. “That’s all that comes out.” “What do you me… Oh.” Miss Honey said. Matilda saw her lips crease in worry. “For how long?” “A couple of days,” Matilda said, before adding an “-ish” to the end. “Matilda!” Jenny said. “Why didn’t you tell me?” “I didn’t really notice until I woke up with a stomach ache this morning.” “I’ll call your doctor's office and make an appointment.” “No!” Matilda said, a bit more forceful than she meant to. Miss Honey gave her a puzzled expression. “I mean, umm, don’t you have something in there?” she pointed to the medicine cabinet. She watched as Miss Honey dug through the bottles, until she pulled out a box before staring at the instructions on the back. “I guess I can give you this and see if it loosens things up, but I should really ask your pediatrician.” “No point in missing school, he’ll just tell me to drink more water or something.” Miss Honey stared at her for a moment. “You seem very eager to not go in. What’s going on?” “What kid wants to go to the doctor?” Matilda laughed nervously. “Well, you, for starters. You love picking everyone’s brain there. It’s not like you’re going to get a shot.” Miss Honey narrowed her eyes. “You’re not even afraid of needles.” “Well, I sort of got curious and looked up the treatment.” Matilda admitted before blurting out, “They’re going to shove a tube up my butt!” Miss Honey stared at her a moment before letting out a chuckle. “No, Matilda, no one’s putting anything in your bottom. This, this is the treatment.” She shook the box in her hand before smiling. “It goes in your mouth.” “Oh.” Matilda said, breathing a sigh of relief. “What is it?” “Laxatives. You’ll probably have some cramping in the morning, most likely some diarrhea, but then it will be over.” Matilda made a face. “What about school? I can’t leave class, he won’t let me.” “I’ll get you up an hour earlier, it’ll be out of your system by then, but just in case, I’ll send you off with a note.” Matilda took the pill she was offered and chased it down with a cup of water. “You’ll feel better soon. I promise.”

“Won’t you tell me what’s upset you?” Miss Honey asked as she took both of their hardly touched dinners and dumped them in the trash. The walk home had been a very silent one, and neither of them had felt like eating. “Nothing.” Matilda mumbled. Jenny sighed as Matilda continued to stare off in any direction that wasn’t Jenny. “Is it about switching classes tomorrow?” “I’m over that.” came the mumbled reply. Well if it wasn’t that, Jenny thought as she bit her lip. It had to be… “Who told you?” Jenny asked, admitting defeat. She had been trying to keep her emotions in check all day, so Matilda wouldn’t suspect, but the truth was, Jenny didn’t feel… anything. She didn’t know what to feel. Maybe she was still in shock? Miss Honey had been told her aunt had been found in her car at the bottom of a cliff, and all Jennifer had wanted was to ask when they could move Matilda to year five. “Hortensia,” Matilda said, finally looking up. “She said it was on the news this morning. She was happy and expected me to be happy, but I-” Matilda hid her face in her hands. Miss Honey reached down and picked her up before sitting on the bed. “It’s okay to feel sad when someone dies, even if it’s not someone we like very much.” She could feel Matilda shake her head. “What is it then? Won’t you tell me?” “Angry,” Matilda said with a sniffle after a minute of silence. “I feel really, really angry.” Miss Honey didn’t respond, but instead began to stroke Matilda’s head. “She was supposed to go to jail! She was supposed to pay for everything she did! Everything she did to you! Now there’s nothing! No case! No trial! Now people are going to mourn her as if she was this great person and no one will know the truth!” “Matilda,” Jenny whispered softly, “Think about today. Did it look like anyone was in mourning? And as for what she did to me,” She shrugged. “I have you, and now I have the knowledge that no one is going to try and take you away from me. The whole trial thing was never about seeking justice or revenge, Matilda, it was about keeping you safe. You’re all that matters to me, sweetie. Knowing my aunt is six feet underground is just the cherry on top. Relieved, yes, that’s how I feel about all this. Just…relieved.” Miss Honey finished, speaking the last part more to herself than anything. “Do you think she did it on purpose?” Matilda asked after the two had embraced for some time. “You mean like drove off the cliff on purpose?” Miss Honey asked. Matilda nodded. “No.” Miss Honey said firmly. “I don’t think she killed herself. I don’t think it was us she was running from either.” “What do you mean?” “I don’t think it was the threat of me testifying that made her pack up and run. The more I think about it, the less sense it makes. She had a natural talent for turning things back around on me. She could have made anything I said sound like a lie.” “Then why leave you the house?” “Huh? The house?” “Yeah, in her note. She said you could keep everything if you dropped the charges.” Matilda said, counting it off on her fingers. “The brat, the money, the house.” She hadn’t even thought of the house, but now that the Trunchbull was gone, she supposed it really did belong to her now. “I have a house.” Miss Honey said, feeling stunned. “We have a house.” Matilda smiled. “So what are you going to do with it? Sell it? Burn it to the ground?” “We’re going to move in of course!” Matilda’s smile fell. “Move in? Why would you want to live there?” “Matilda, are you serious? Look at this place, we can’t keep living here. You’re going to need your own room, your own space.” “Mom, I don’t think it’s a good idea. That house holds so many bad memories for you.” Matilda insisted. “Not all of them are bad.” Jenny said. “Before it was the Trunchbull’s, it belonged to my father, Magnus. There are things of his still in the attic, I think. And think of all the new memories we can make. It doesn’t have to be a horrible place.” “Mom,” Matilda said with a grimace. “If you want a bigger place, won’t you consider selling it and starting over someplace else?” “I’d have to get it ready to sell,” Miss Honey said while biting her lip. “It would take time, and a lot of hard work.” “I can help.” Matilda said, before a dresser began to slowly wobble and shake before rising ever so slowly into the air. “Matilda’s Psychic Moving Service is open!” “Put it down!” Jennifer said firmly. “Matilda’s Psychic Moving Service is closed until further notice.” “C’mon, it’s a big day tomorrow, go get ready for bed, and we can read for an hour or so before lights out.” …………………………………… “Matilda, wake up! MATILDA!” The young girl gasped as she opened her eyes. The room spun for a moment before coming into focus. “I said we need to get moving!” Matilda slowly sat up and rubbed the sleep from her eyes. She looked over at the clock and nearly let out a shocked gasp. She had never slept in this late before! “Hurry, go get dressed, no time for a bath.” “Uhh,” Matilda said. “I…need one.” She could feel the cold dampness against her skin, and, oh gosh, down her legs too. “A shower then, a really fast shower! Can you reach the knobs?” “No, but I can use my-” she started to say, but Miss Honey cut her off. “No powers! I don’t want you exhausting yourself. Get in the bathroom, I’ll start the shower for you.” She heard the water running before she had even managed to get to her feet. She pulled her nightshirt off and threw it on the bed, before making her way to the bathroom. Before she even knew what was happening, she heard the ripping of tape and felt herself getting lightly pushed towards the bathtub. “Get in, we have to be out the door in less than ten minutes. I overslept too!” “Can’t I use the toilet first?” Matilda mumbled, still feeling herself pushed towards the tub. “No time!” Miss Honey said in a panic. “Get in.” She felt herself get lifted and set under the stream of water. “Pee in the tub.” she called over her shoulder before frantically pulling out clothes from their dresser. “Uh, no.” Matilda complained before Miss Honey set an outfit for her on the closed toilet seat lid. “Then you’ll have to wait until you get to school.” Matilda felt something slimy get poured on her head before feeling hands roughly begin to scrub. “What? But I-” “Then just go before I finish washing you.” “Not with you watching!” Matilda protested, shifting from foot to foot. “Matilda, we don’t have time for this! Privacy is for those who get out of bed on time, this is your last chance.” Jenny said as she maneuvered Matilda’s head back under the water. “Fine,” Matilda grumbled after spitting out a mouthful of water as Jenny spun her around and began scrubbing her back with the loofah. It was the closest thing to privacy she was going to get, Matilda realized and with a defeated sigh, she relaxed, thankful for the lack of additional noise. She was halfway done when she felt herself get spun back around. Matilda let out a yelp of surprise and covered herself with her hands. “You’re fine.” Jenny said sounding exasperated as she plucked one of Matilda’s arms away and began to cover it in suds. “Are you done? Is it safe to wash the rest of you now?” “Yes.” Matilda mumbled. Two minutes later Matilda heard the water turn off and felt herself get wrapped in an already damp towel. She reached for her clothes and froze. “I stopped having accidents during the day.” she said, seeing the pull-up on top of her clothes. “Yes, and you’ve been doing great, but just in case. Your new teacher doesn’t let students leave class between breaks, but I’m hoping he’ll make an exception since you’re five, and not ten, but if he doesn’t, and you can’t hold it. No one has to know.” Matilda didn’t like the sound of this, but stepped into it anyway and pulled it up her hips, before letting her dress fall over it. “You can’t see it, right?” she asked as they ran out the door. “Not unless you're looking for it.” “That’s not a ‘no’” Matilda said in a panic. “You’re fine, I’m just joking.” Miss Honey said, “I promise.” By the time they got to school, Matilda’s stomach was a mess of butterflies. What if this wasn’t such a good idea? “You’ll do great, Mr. Trilby will be there to explain everything to your new teacher, and I put some extra you-know-what’s in your backpack. When you let out for the day, just meet me in my classroom, and you can tell me all about it on the way home, okay?” Matilda let out something between a whine and a “okay.” “Don’t be nervous, you have friends in their remember? Go on, don’t be late, but give me a hug first.” Matilda stopped at the door that said Year 5 and gulped. Mr. Trilby wasn’t there. Was she supposed to wait outside for him? Go in and wait? Was she supposed to meet him in his office and then walk in together? If she didn’t enter the classroom in the next minute or so she’d be late. Why did her stomach have to hurt now? Matilda braced herself and pushed open the door. It felt as if a sea of faces had turned to stare at her. She gulped. “Can I help you?” A man’s voice asked. Matilda turned to find a silver haired man wearing black rimmed glasses, and a beat up suit sitting at a large desk. “I-I’m new.” Matilda managed to get out. “Well, I can assure you, this isn’t where you belong. If you go down to the office, I’m sure they can help you find your class.” The teacher said, fake smile plastered to his face. “Uh, no, I’m not new to the school.” Matilda said. The door crashed open with a loud bang, and all heads turned to see Hortensia panting. “Made…it…” she said, but as she was about to head for her desk she spotted Matilda and froze. “What are you doing here, squirt?” “ Good, you know each other now. Take her down to the office, she says she’s new. She’s lost.” the teacher said. “Matilda’s not new.” Hortensia said with furrowed eyebrows. “She’s in Miss Honey’s class.” “Then take her back where she belongs.” came the bored reply. “Was there something you needed?” Hortensia asked more quietly. “I’m new to the class.” Matilda managed to get out this time. “I was moved up.” “You know this is the year five classroom, right? Are you looking for year two? I know sometimes young kids can get them confused.” The teacher said sounding doubtful. “And we don’t typically promote students mid-year.” “About time you finally got out of Miss Honey’s class, nerd.” Hortensia said. “C’mon, year two’s this way.” “I’m not in year two.” Matilda said, feeling a bit annoyed. “You’re Mr. Larson, yes?” But before he could answer, there was a knock on the door and another figure appeared. Matilda breathed a sigh of relief as Mr. Trilby poked his head in. “Oh good, you are here already. I’m sorry I’m late.” he said as he entered the room. He turned to Mr. Larson and said. “I’d like you to meet your new student starting today. This is Matilda Wormwood.” Matilda could see Hortensia gawking at her, but it was nothing compared to the look on Mr. Larson’s face. “You’re joking.” Mr. Larson said after a moment of silence. He looked from Mr. Trilby to Matilda, then back to Mr. Trilby. “I am not.” Mr. Trilby said with a mischievous smile on his face as he rocked back and forth on his heels. “Let me know how it goes after today.” and with that, he left leaving Matilda to face the silent stunned crowd. Mr. Larson silently looked her up and down a moment. “How old are you?” “Five.” Matilda said quietly. “Jesus, what was he thinking?” He said pinching the bridge of his nose. “You two know each other?” He pointed at Hortensia, who still seemed frozen to the spot in shock. “I’m her babysitter.” Hortensia answered. Matilda frowned as giggles erupted from the class. She thought they were friends. “Babysitter.” Mr. Larson mumbled. “Jesus, okay, umm just take a seat next to her and, Brittney, move over, go take the empty seat by Bruce. We’re having a quiz today, but don’t worry about it, Madeline.” “It’s Matilda, and I’d like to take it, if that’s okay.” Mr. Larson shrugged. “You can, umm, read right?” “It’s all she ever does.” Hortensia said. “C’mon, I’ll show you where we are in math.” “Babysitter!” Matilda hissed after taking a seat. “I thought we were friends.” “I meant it like, I know you.” Hortensia said. “You know who else knows each other? Friends.” “Okay, okay, I’m sorry, friend” Hortensia said with a bit too much emphasis on the last word. “I can’t believe you’re in my year. I thought you meant you were skipping A year, not all of them!” “I helped you with your math homework, why would you think I’d be in year two?” “Because you’re five! Who puts a five-year-old with kids twice their age?” Hortensia said as she opened up her math textbook. “The quiz is on this chapter. Like he said, you don’t have to do it if you’re not familiar with it.” Matilda glanced over at it and frowned. “Still want to take that quiz? You don’t look happy to see the work.” Mr. Larson said. “If it’s too hard, just let me know.” “No, it’s not that. I’ll do it.” Matilda said. Mr. Larson shrugged again and began handing out papers. “Books away. It’s time.” Matilda let out a disappointed sigh as she looked over the quiz. She had expected year five work to be…harder. She had done this chapter almost a month ago. Not only that, but she had even done this same quiz as a worksheet. She rubbed aimlessly at her stomach which had begun to ache as she filled in the answers. Once she had finished, she looked around the room. Everyone was still working. What was she supposed to do now? Could she pull out a book and read? She looked up and saw Mr. Larson smirking at her. “Everything okay? Are you stuck?” he asked, coming over to her. “I’m done. Can I read?” Matilda asked. She saw Mr. Larson frown. “The sides of your paper are blank. Where is your work, you need to show your work.” Matilda frowned. She had never been told to show her work before. “I do it in my head, not on the paper.” “Well I need to see it on the paper, so I know you’re not cheating. For all I know you’re using a calculator.” Matilda shrugged and began writing out the equations. She didn’t like it. It was so much slower than just doing it in her head, but at least it gave her something to do. Ten minutes after she had finished writing it all out, he called for them to pass their tests forward before working on the next chapter. She pulled the book out Mr. Trilby had given her and got to work, making sure she wrote out the equations. “Miss Hortensia,” Mr. Larson called. “Could you please explain to me why the girl you babysit scored higher on the quiz than you did?” The class erupted into giggles. Matilda glanced over at Hortensia. She couldn’t help it. Payback had presented itself on a silver platter. “That’s because I’m her tutor.” Matilda said with a smile.

Matilda’s eyes shone brightly at the word “surprise”. She swallowed her mouthful of toast and strawberry jam and looked up at Jenny sitting across from her at the table working on a crossword puzzle. “What’s the surprise?” she asked eagerly. “Well, you’ll just have to wait and see at school.” Jenny said grinning. “Aww, can’t you give me a hint?” “Hmm, well it involves your friend, Hortensia.” Matilda perked up even more. “Are we going somewhere?” “Yes, we’re going to school.” Matilda frowned. “Mom,” she groaned, “that’s not what I meant.” Miss Honey laughed before draining the last of her mug of tea. “So the surprise is at school?” “You’ll just have to wait and see, we’ll go as soon as you finish your bre- Matilda!” Jenny chastised as she watched the girl nearly unhinge her jaw before shoving half a piece of toast inside her mouth. “Hmmfy.” Matilda said with a mouthful of bread, which Jenny could only assume meant, “ready”. “If you’re so eager to leave, you could have taken it with you! You won’t get a surprise if you choke to death first! Now you’ve got jelly all over your face.” “Mowry” Matilda said between chewing, before going to the sink to wash her face off. “And don’t talk with your mouthful, please.” “Who do you think you are? My mother?” Matilda said, poking her face out from the dish rag with a playful smile. “Well as a matter of fact, according to the letter I received in the mail yesterday, I believe I am.” Jenny said, before her mouth broke out in a wide grin. They had been so excited last night, Jenny had done something she had never done in her adult life. She ordered a pizza to celebrate. It was a large splurge for her, even with a second paycheck to her name, but it seemed the kind of thing that needed to be celebrated. It had seemed such an impossible hurdle before, but now it was finally done and over. Matilda grabbed her backpack, and Ms. Honey buttoned her coat, something Matilda had nearly demanded she buy herself, before they left the apartment. “Is Hortensia doing some kind of show and tell in our class today?” Matilda asked as they walked down the sidewalk. It was her eighth wrong guess, but Jenny refused to confirm or deny any of her answers. “My lips are sealed.” On their walk into the school, Matilda had nearly walked passed Miss Honey, who had stopped at the Headmistresses office, instead of walking toward her classroom like usual. Matilda gave her a puzzled look, but Miss Honey just smiled and beckoned her inside as Mr. Trilby opened the door for them. “Well good morning, Miss Honey, what was it you wanted to meet about?” Mr. Trilby asked as they had all taken their seats. “First, I’d like to officially introduce you to my daughter, Matilda.” She slid a piece of paper over to him. Mr. Trilby’s eyes went wide in surprise as he looked from Miss Honey to Matilda, then to the paper. He picked it up and read before a large smile spread across his face. “Congratulations you two! I had no idea!” “We’ve had to keep it quiet until everything became official, because of, well, it’s complicated.” Jenny trailed off. Mr. Trilby folded his hands and listened intently. “Well, the reason I asked for this meeting, is because now that the Headmistress is no longer here, I was hoping to see about moving Matilda up to the class she belongs in. She really has no business being in the bottom form.” Matilda’s heart sank. Miss Honey was moving her out of her class? “So you want to move her into year two? Do you think she’s ready?” Mr. Trilby got up from the desk and made his way to the file cabinet and began rifling through folders. “I can have her take an assessment test to see if she’s prepared enough for year two.” “No, Mr. Trilby, sir,” Miss Honey said. “Not second year either. I’d like her to go into year five.” The sound of shuffling papers stopped abruptly. Matilda saw the temporary headmaster’s head nearly swivel around like an owl as he gave Miss Honey a curious expression. “Year five!? But Miss Honey, that’s a five-year jump! That would put her with the ten and eleven-year-olds! Why don’t we start with year two and see how that goes?” “No, Mr. Trilby.” Miss Honey said firmly. Matilda wasn’t sure what the man seemed more stunned by, the idea of sending her to class with children twice her age, or the fact that Miss Honey sternly told him no. “You’re right, Mr. Trilby. She doesn’t belong in year five.” Matilda watched as the tension seemed to seep out of the man’s face and right into Matilda. She didn’t want to leave Miss Honey’s class, but she didn’t want her mother slipping back into her subservient, people pleasing roll. “I think she’s ready for top form, but I’m not ready for her to graduate and move on to another school. I want to keep an eye on her and see how she handles being with the older children for another year before I feel comfortable sending her on to senior form. Maybe once she’s a little older. Six or seven, perhaps.” “S-senior form…s-s-ix or seven.” Mr. Trilby let out a shaky laugh. He fell quiet as he stared into Ms. Honey’s face. “You’re serious.” “Yes, very.” The two adults stayed quiet for a moment, until Miss Honey spoke again. “Ask her multiplication, ask her about science, or spelling, or, or, whatever!” Mr. Trilby stared ahead before letting out a defeated sigh. “Matilda, can you tell me what seven multiplied by nine is?” he asked. Matilda stared ahead at the look of doubt on Mr. Trilby’s face, but remained silent. The answer came to her at once, but the words wouldn’t budge from her lips. “How about something a bit simpler? Five times five?” Again, Matilda remained quiet. She could feel Miss Honey’s eager expression begin to falter. “Nine times three?” “Matilda,” Miss Honey began, but Mr. Trilby put a hand up to silence her. “Miss Honey, look, even if she got them right, I can’t in good conscious move her five grades, and these are basic-” “Mr. Trilby, please, may I speak to her in the hall for a moment?” Miss Honey stood and took Matilda by the hand before he had even had a chance to give her an answer. “Sweetie, what is going on?” Miss Honey asked. “These are super easy questions.” “I don’t want to move classes!” Matilda blurted out, tears filling her eyes. “I want to stay with you.” “Matilda? You have no business being in my class. There’s nothing I can teach you.” Miss Honey said softly. “Yes there is! What about the independent studies? You always explain things perfectly if I ever have questions. You teach me things every day! Why can’t I stay with you? You’re the best teacher here!” “Matilda, I love that you think that, but I’m running out of material to give you from this school. To be honest, I think you’re already ready for senior form. I’m nearly positive you’d pass the exit test with flying colors, but I have no idea how you’ll do with the older children. I think you’d, as well as I, would be more comfortable if you stayed here one more year. If I can get Mr. Trilby to agree, you’d be with your older friends, Hortensia and Bruce. It’s not like you won’t see me at home, and just think, no more arts and crafts.” “Promise?” Matilda mumbled. “Yes! We’ll still walk to school and back home every day, we’ll still read together every night and-” “I meant about no more arts and crafts.” Miss Honey laughed. “I promise. Now how about we go back in, and you show Mr. Trilby what you can really do?” “Okay.” ….. Mr. Trilby let out an exasperated sigh as he looked from Miss Honey to Matilda. “So she knows up to her twelve times tables, I’ll admit I’m impressed, but there’s much more than multiplication in year five. There’s grammar, and reading, and..” he dropped his voice and mouthed the words, “Sex Education.” “I can keep going.” Matilda said quietly. Mr. Trilby gave her a puzzled look. “You said I knew my twelve times tables. I can keep going if you want.” He gave her an amused smile. “Matilda, what’s 1, 243 times 13?” Miss Honey asked. “16,159.” Mr. Trilby’s amused smile faltered. “What about 867 times 962?” Miss Honey asked. “834,054.” “Wait wait wait,” Mr. Trilby said. “Are you saying she can do large multiplication in her head?” He gave Matilda an incredulous look. Matilda shrugged. “Ask her some, see for yourself.” Mr. Trilby opened a desk drawer, shuffled some things around, and pulled out a calculator. He paused for a moment, seemingly racking his brain before asking, “566 times 88?” he asked, still sounding a bit doubtful. “49,808.” Matilda answered, barely a moment of hesitation. She watched as Mr. Trilby typed in the numbers before his face began to drain of color. “Wh-what about d-division?” he asked, before clearing his throat. “Do you know division as well?” “Yes, Mr. Trilby.” Matilda answered. “What if I threw in a decimal?” Matilda shrugged. “Yes, Mr. Trilby.” “Percentages?” “Yes, Mr. Trilby” “Fractions?” Matilda nodded and Mr. Trilby leaned back in his chair. He glanced over at Miss Honey who nodded her head as well. He stroked his beard thoughtfully, before glancing over at the filing cabinet. “Would you mind if I gave you a few tests? I’m intrigued to say the least, and I’d like to know how you do in other subjects before I agree in placing you in such an advanced class for your age.” He stood and began rummaging through his file cabinet once more. “Thank you,” Miss Honey said sincerely. “It’s more than Miss Trunchbull would do.” “Would you be okay if I kept her here while you taught your class?” He asked. “I think I can have her back by the end of the day. ” Miss Honey agreed, wished Matilda well, and left to her classroom. Mr. Trilby came back with several folders, before setting them on his desk and took a seat. “Can you really do all of those math equations in your head?” “I think so.” Matilda said quietly. “Do you come from a family of mathematicians?” Matilda shook her head, before staring at the manila folders. “Now don’t worry if you don’t know some, or even many of the answers to some of these. It’s a test that cover’s all grade levels in the public school system, even all the way up to year 13, far beyond the six years we have here at Crunchem Hall. If you don’t know an answer just leave it blank, and move on. I’ll give this to you last if there’s time, and only if you score well on this other test. It’s not important, more for my own curiosity. Normally, I wouldn’t dream of giving someone your age this. Now this is the one I want you to fully concentrate on.” He slid a packet of papers over to her, along with a pencil and a piece of blank paper. “This covers the levels of subjects we teach at this school, and depending on how many you answer right, it will give me a better understanding of which year to place you in. Now between you and me, year five, I just don’t see it happening in all honesty, but I do agree, I don’t think the bottom form is where you belong.” Matilda nodded. Was Miss Honey mistaken? Was all her talk of university in a few years just…talk? Maybe Matilda wasn’t as special as Miss Honey thought. Would she be disappointed? “Now this is a timed test. I doubt there’s any form of timed testing in Miss Honey’s class, but you have three hours to complete this. If you need a break at all between subjects, just let me know, and i’ll stop the timer. Do you have any questions?” Matilda shook her head. “Alright, well, whenever you’re ready, you may begin.” …… When Matilda had finished, Mr. Trilby wasn’t in his office. He had left to lead morning assembly, but a woman from the office sat in the corner keeping an eye on her at his request to make sure she didn’t cheat by using a calculator, or somehow getting a hold of the answer key. So Matilda sat at the desk and waited. She stared at the Chokey and had to smile. It had been covered by a sheet and bore a sign that said. “Closed for Business,” In a more messy and childish scrawl below it said, “Miss Trunchbull’s new office.” With a rather colorful depiction of a large stick figure woman getting speared in multiple places. She had a feeling she knew who had added it, and found it even more amusing that despite the added graffiti, the sign still hung. “Matilda, are you stuck or did you need something?” “No, ma’am.” “Well, let’s get back to work.” “I finished already.” The lady gave a sympathetic smile. “Did you have to skip many of them? That must be very hard for someone your age since it covers all grade levels. Are you testing for the next level? You must be very smart for them to want to move you.” Matilda didn’t feel like explaining, so she just shrugged. “Why don’t you see if there’s anymore you can answer? Maybe it will come to you with a second glance.” “May I use the restroom?” “Sure, you can just use the one in here.” She pointed to the door on the other end of the room. Matilda had always wondered what that old, peeling, green painted door led to. She had pictured another torture room full of things worse than the Chokey, but when she opened the door, she only found a small, private bathroom. While she was washing her hands in the sink, she heard Mr. Trilby come back and ask where she was. “I think she had a hard time with the test. She said she finished already. She obviously had to skip a lot, but I did see her writing for a while. I didn’t think kids her age could read and write already.” “They can’t.” Mr. Trilby said, before Matilda heard shuffling papers. “Except for this one. Look at this.” Matilda heard the creaking of a chair, followed by footsteps. “She completed a three-hour test in thirty minutes.” “Yeah, but it’s not like she did the whole test, that’s not possible for someone her age. She’s in bottom form.” “Not anymore.” Mr. Trilby mumbled. When Matilda came back out, she took her seat at the desk. Without looking away from the papers in his hand, Mr. Trilby slid the other packet across the desk towards her. “Same rules apply, just do whatever you can, until you get stuck. It will keep getting harder, and like I said, this one isn’t important. It’s more just for fun while I grade this.” ……………….. It was nearly lunchtime when the phone rang in Miss Honey’s class. She was going over basic vocabulary with her students when she picked it up and heard Mr. Trilby’s voice over the line. “Miss Honey, would you come to my office at your earliest convenience?” “Of course, sir, I dismiss the class in fifteen minutes.” “Actually, you can give the children an extra fifteen minutes on the playground. Go ahead and dismiss them now. I’m sending Matilda out to join them, so we can talk privately.” She hung up the phone and let the students out early, much to their delight and made her way over to the office. Miss Honey let out a deep, shaky breath as she got to the headmistresses' door before knocking and chastising herself that she no longer had anything to fear here. She entered when beckoned in, and shut the door behind her. “Please take a seat, Miss Honey.” She frowned a little and did as she was told. She had never seen Mr. Trilby looking so serious. “There’s a few things I need to speak to you about, and I’m not sure where to start.” She saw he looked a bit shell shocked. “This is about Matilda, right?” “No. I mean, yes, her as well, but also about Miss Trunchbull. She was your family, wasn’t she?” Miss Honey shifted uncomfortably in her seat at the mention of her aunt. “Matilda is my family.” Miss Honey answered, although her voice rose an octave higher than she had meant it to. She noticed he looked a little relieved to hear this. “S-so you weren’t close, or anything?” Miss Honey shifted in her chair again. “N-no. Can we talk about Matilda first?” He gave a smile that seemed a tad forced and nodded. “Well, I’m afraid to tell you, my first assessment of her was right. She doesn’t belong in the fifth year.” Miss Honey frowned, but before she could protest, he held up a large packet. “This is a test that covers all 13 years of school. I gave it to her to keep her entertained while I went over her answers on a much simpler test. I got maybe a page or two in when I noticed something strange.” “Strange? What do you mean strange?” “I’ve never seen a student smile while taking a test before. I asked her why, and she said, ‘you’re right, Mr. Trilby, this is fun.’ ” Miss Honey let out a relieved laugh. “Yes, she enjoys this sort of thing.” She frowned again as she thought of what he said. “So if you won’t place her in year five, what about four or-” He shook his head, and snaked his hand down his face. “According to her test, she places in year seven.” Miss Honey let out a sigh herself before letting out a nervous chuckle. “I was afraid of this, but I had a feeling she would test beyond this school. She absorbs information like a sponge, I was running out of text books to give her.” “How long have you known you had a genius in your class?” “Since day one.” Miss Honey said. “I tried to tell Miss Trunchbull, but she refused to listen. So I went to her parents, thinking they must be highly intelligent people and,” She let out a bitter laugh “Poor girl had some of the worst people I’ve ever met for parents.” Mr. Trilby gave a sort of pained expression. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I don’t mean to change the subject, but there really is something I need to tell you. The police called. They found Miss Trunchbull.” Miss Honey could feel the color draining from her face. No! She wasn’t ready to have her aunt back in her life! She was finally free! “D-did they arrest her? Did they say where she was? They aren’t bringing her back here, are they?” Mr. Trilby stared at her confused for a moment before realization dawned on him. “ Miss Honey, Jennifer, no. I’m sorry to be the one to tell you this, but I meant they found Miss Trunchbull’s body.”

Miss Honey smiled to herself as she sipped on a mug of tea. Matilda was out in the yard with her friends enjoying the freedom of mobility, giving Jenny time alone in the classroom before school started for the day. She sat and reflected on their earlier conversation that morning. Matilda had such a unique way of looking at the world around them, she thought. She enjoyed their walks to and from school together immensely. Without even realizing, it had become one of her favorite times of the day. They never seemed to run out of things to talk about, but even when it was quiet between them, it was a comfortable silence. Why does it have to be one-sided? Why can’t we both just look out for each other? Miss Honey thought back to that night and grimaced. She couldn’t even remember what she had been dreaming about, but the all consuming terror that had filled her senses when she had awoken in the dark had been all too real. As she thought about it, she could feel the shame inching its way back in. Their roles had been reversed so quickly. It was Jenny that was cowering and trembling like a child with Matilda gently guiding her back to reality. It wasn’t until Matilda had taken Jenny’s head and guided it down onto her chest with instructions to find her heartbeat did she finally calm down. It wasn’t until that night did Jenny finally understand Matilda’s fascination with lying on her bare chest. While she didn’t outright object, she often wished she could keep her night gown on. Now she understood. Matilda was right, it really wasn’t the same. There was something so intimate and calming about feeling another person's body heat and listening to their heart beat. Matilda must feel it tenfold being as small as she was and able to stretch out on top of her. For someone who had never known physical affection from her parents, Jenny imagined it felt like a safe haven to her. Miss Honey felt a little bad about her reaction towards it before, lying underneath stiff as a board and frightened. Matilda had only asked twice, both when at her lowest and most vulnerable. Once when she had been sick, and another after her first day back to school when they had somewhat been at odds. Jennifer didn’t need to have supernatural powers to know how difficult it was for Matilda to ask. It was obvious the girl wanted something with the way she kept staring up at her and opening and closing her mouth like she was going to say something. It had taken a bit of prodding to get her to open up. At least now Jennifer could slightly understand the appeal. Now if she could just get herself to relax quicker and quit flinching every time she moved. What if she herself offered? Would that make Matilda happy? Maybe on Christmas they could… Ugh what was she thinking? Sorry, I can’t afford presents, but you can lay on me instead? Miss Honey let her face fall into her hands and let out a frustrated moan. What was she going to do? “Everything okay in here?” A voice asked. Miss Honey jolted upright and forced a smile, but relaxed when she saw it was Mrs. Rodgers. “Yes, it’s fine, I’m just racking my brain trying to come up with something to do for Matilda for Christmas.” “You haven’t started shopping yet?” Miss Honey gritted her teeth. She wasn’t about to explain their financial woes. “N-not really, no. Things have been a bit difficult with everything going on, she’s only just recently gotten enough strength back, so I don’t feel like I have to keep a constant eye on her. ” “Then let’s go shopping after we drop her off at the library today. Today’s payday.” “I-I don’t know, she’s a bit tricky. Not very materialistic. A bit hard to shop for a child genius.” Miss Honey said, letting out a bit of nervous laughter. “I think we’re looking more into things to do rather than just things.” “Tell me about it. When I asked my granddaughter what she wanted, she said she wanted a broomstick. I asked her if she wanted a mop to go with that, but she rolled her eyes and called me a ‘muggle’ whatever that is.” Mrs. Rodgers said. “What are you two doing, anyway?” “I’m not really sure. I know she wants to see the lights on Christmas Eve, and then after that, maybe stay in, play chess, work on some puzzles.” Mrs. Rodger’s frowned for a moment. “You’re welcome to come over to our place for Christmas dinner. It’s just the two of us as well.” Miss Honey’s eyes lit up. “Really? Are you sure?” "Yes, of course. Someone needs to come put that girl in her place at chess." "Thank you very much, I'll ask her about it today and get back to you." "So, shopping? Yes? No?" Mrs. Rodgers asked. Miss Honey bit her lip. She was about to decline the invitation when there was a knock on the open door and a new face emerged. Someone from the office entered and handed her an envelope, before nodding politely and leaving. Miss Honey stared at it curiously for a moment. "You don't get direct deposit?" Mrs. Rodgers asked. "Huh?" Miss Honey said. She looked down at the envelope again. It couldn't be. With trembling fingers she began to slide it open before slowly examining the contents. She could feel the moisture beginning to build behind her eyelids as a drop slowly streaked down her face. No wonder she didn't recognize it. She had never received one before. "How?" Miss Honey choked out, looking at the figure on the check. "It's payday. Did you forget you changed banks or something?" Mrs. Rodgers asked before frowning. "Are you alright?" "Y-yes! I'm more than alright! I'm.. I'm..." Miss Honey couldn't find the words. She wiped at her face with her free hand. It was as if four hundred pounds had just fallen from the sky. Her aunt must have withdrawn all her money and closed her bank account when she went on the run. She still couldn't believe it. She was almost afraid to look away in case it might disappear. With this, now she could give Matilda a real Christmas. "I think I'd like to go shopping after all." ... Matilda was feeling very confused as she sat in her desk in class studying Miss Honey's expression. Her eyes said sad, but her emotions felt...well, she was nearly ecstatic. Adults, Matilda eventually thought, shaking her head. So complicated. If she was happy why was she crying? Whatever it was, it seemed to be contagious. Matilda was filled with a sort of restless energy. She could hardly sit still. She was...oh no. Her hand shot up as she crossed her legs. How had she not realized sooner? She looked up at the clock. Was it already that late? Had she really been reading her science textbook for three hours straight? Matilda stretched her hand as high as it would go, but Miss Honey wasn't looking up. She was across the room helping Nigel with something. She tapped her foot and drummed her fingers against her desk. C'mon, mom! Matilda was tempted to call out, but Miss Honey was strict about interrupting and waiting turns. Even more so with Matilda, so she didn't show favoritism. She began to squirm in her chair and bite her lip. She really needed to stop getting so lost in her school work. Finally, she couldn't take it anymore. Matilda had to make a choice. She could wait for Miss Honey to notice her and probably have an accident, or she could make a run for it and hope she didn't get stopped by a school prefect without a hall pass. She ran. Well, more of a hurried shuffle really. If Miss Honey saw her get up and leave she hadn't said anything. When she got to the bathroom she cursed herself for how close she had cut it. While she was washing her hands, Lavender came in. "Miss Honey wanted to know if you needed me to bring you anything from the nurse's office." Lavender asked looking puzzled. "Are you sick?" Matilda shook her head, trying to hide the embarrassed look on her face. So Jenny had noticed her make a break for it. Lavender shrugged and the two of them walked back to class. Matilda held her breath as she crept back to her seat. She nearly jumped when she heard Miss Honey come up behind her and whisper in her ear. "Everything all right?" "Y-yes." Matilda said. "I tried to ask, but I couldn't get your attention in time without..." She let her sentence fall incomplete. No need to finish that thought. "It's alright, I'm glad everything's okay. There's no need to wait for me. If you need to, you can just get up and go." Matilda frowned as Miss Honey preemptively wrote her a hall pass and signed it. "What happened to not showing favoritism?" "This is different. There's a difference between needing something and wanting something. The other children might want my attention, but I need you not to blow up my classroom.” Matilda sat stunned when Jenny leaned over and kissed the top of her head, something she never did at school. “Try and pay a bit more attention next time, sweetie.” Matilda watched dumbstruck as Miss Honey seemed to glide back to the front of the class. What in the world was up with her? Startled as she was with the change that had come over her, Matilda couldn’t help the grin from spreading across her face. Seeing her happy really was contagious. Their good mood seemed to last all throughout the day, until Matilda was dropped off in front of the library. She found herself feeling anxious as she pulled open the big wooden door. This had always been her happy place, she shouldn’t feel nervous about being here, she thought to herself. She peered around the lobby to see if the coast was clear. With Mrs. Phelps no where in sight, she crossed the distance to her favorite armchair tucked away in the corner, as she tried to look like she belonged. Once she arrived, she looked down at it, relieved it held no sign of damage from the previous day. Luckily the hard faux leather surface had been easy to clean with its water-resistant surface, otherwise she might have been in more trouble. Satisfied it was no worse for wear, she took a seat and pulled out the book she was reading. No more than thirty minutes passed then she heard the sound of someone clearing their throat. She gulped as she saw the figure of Mrs. Phelps standing over her. Out of paranoia, her hands shot to her lap. She breathed a sigh of relief. Dry. “Good afternoon, Matilda.” said Mrs. Phelps. “Good afternoon, Mrs. Phelps,” Matilda mumbled, trying to resist the urge to drop her eyes. “Are you all ready for Christmas?” “Umm, n-no, not really.” Matilda said. “I don’t really know what to do for Miss Honey.” She answered honestly, grateful that she wasn’t jumping straight into the events of yesterday. “It’s not like I can really buy her anything.” “Well of course she doesn’t expect you to buy her anything.” Mrs. Phelps said. “If you want to do something for her, why don’t you make her something? I’m sure she’d appreciate some kind of arts and crafts piece from you. Aren’t you working on anything like that in school?” Matilda bit her lip. Arts and crafts was the one thing she wasn’t good at. In fact, she was so bad at it, she stuck to her studies while the other children made things for their parents. The most successful “art project” she had ever put together was the time she had glued her father's hat to his head. “Well, I’m not very good at things like that to be honest.” Matilda admitted. “I tend to avoid anything involving scissors, folding, and glue. I made my biological mother something once, but she told me not to bring garbage home and threw it away.” “Oh my,” Mrs. Phelps said, wide eyes full of concern. “That wasn’t very nice.” Matilda shrugged. She tried not to think about them much anymore. “I like living with Miss Honey better anyway.” “You live with Miss Honey?” Mrs. Phelps asked sounding surprised. “Outside of school?” Matilda nodded. She supposed it had been a while since the days she used to walk here nearly every day, so it was only natural the old librarian would be out of the loop. “Yes, for a few months now. It’s wonderful, she’s wonderful.” Matilda gushed. She spent the next few minutes filling her in on bits and pieces of her new life. “Well that certainly explains why your teacher asked me to keep an eye on you.” Mrs. Phelps said. “I figured she was just worried about her favorite student being down here by herself.” “Please don’t let her hear you call me her favorite, she’s hard enough on me already to prove to the other students I’m not!” Mrs. Phelps chuckled. “I always hoped Jenny would have a family of her own someday. She was such a quiet, reserved and sullen child. I’m glad you’ve found each other. Now I’m absolutely convinced she would love anything you made her.” Matilda wasn’t convinced, but Mrs. Phelps kept insisting, so she reluctantly agreed to page through a book of crafts. Together they managed to settle on decorating a picture frame. Matilda wasn’t sure there was a picture of them together to go in it, so she wondered what else she could fill it with. “Do you still write poems?” Mrs. Phelps asked. “Sometimes.” Matilda said. The more she thought about it, the more she liked the idea. Jenny seemed to like the one she made up about her on her first day of school, although she may have just been being nice at the time. Maybe she could do a poem and a picture. Mrs. Phelps led her to one of the large circular tables with instructions to start writing while she searched around the back for crafting supplies. Matilda looked up hopefully when she returned but instead of decorations, she began winding the dial of a white plastic timer and set it next to her. Matilda stared at it then back up at Mrs. Phelps curiously. “You’re a smart girl, I think you know what that’s for.” Matilda hid her blushing face in her notebook and tried to focus on the poem. After about an hour of writing and scribbling out lines, she had a very rough draft of what she wanted to say. She had forgotten all about the picture frame and even the timer until it began to shrill and buzz next to her. She nearly jumped on it in a panic to turn it off. Why would Mrs. Phelps start something so loud in the middle of her library? She sat there for a second trying to let her heart beat calm down. She could feel people staring at her in annoyance for disrupting them. Matilda picked up her pen and tried to get back to work when she heard the sound once again of someone clearing their throat. She turned to find Mrs. Phelps staring at her with her arms crossed. “I set that timer for a reason. I believe there’s something you still need to take care of.” Matilda gulped and quickly rose to her feet before scurrying away in embarrassment. Had Miss Honey said something to her or was this punishment for yesterday? When she had gotten back from the restroom, she was a bit perturbed to find Mrs. Phelps reading what she had been writing in her notebook. It wasn’t ready for anyone to see, and that was between her and Jenny! “It’s not done.” Matilda said weakly. Mrs. Phelps looked up and stared at her. “Matilda, this is beautiful.” Matilda shrugged uncomfortably and shifted from foot to foot. It was a very, very rough draft. “She’s going to love it. I promise.” … It had only taken Jennifer one lap around the store to realize just how true her earlier comment had been. Shopping for a child genius was damn near impossible. Mrs. Rodgers had listed off many ideas, but none of them seemed to fit Matilda well, and just because she had gotten one paycheck didn’t mean she didn’t still have to be extremely careful. She thought of clothes, but Matilda had plenty in perfect condition. Most of the toys were out too, Jennifer doubted anything could hold Matilda’s attention for long and their living space was too small for clutter. Miss Honey was able to pick out a few small things, like a mug, extra packets of hot chocolate, and a few small things of candies. She smiled when she saw a little pouch of small, black chunks of gum labeled “coal” and added it to the cart. She looked down at her cart and frowned. There was still nothing really special that stuck out to her. She sighed in frustration as she pushed her cart down the baby aisle. Might as well pick her up more pull-ups while she was here. “Has that gotten any better?” Mrs. Rodger’s asked while Jennifer tried to decide on plain white, or splurge and get something with designs. “It depends. Sometimes she can go nearly a week without issue, and then the next she wakes up wet almost every morning. She gets so discouraged by it. She holds herself up to such impossibly high standards it doesn’t matter how many times I tell her lots of children her age deal with similar issues. I’m starting to think I’m the problem.” “Jen, why on earth would you think this is your fault?” Mrs. Rodger’s said, hands on hips. Jenny sighed. “Matilda, she’s, well, she has certain…abilities.” “I noticed.” Mrs. Rodger’s said. “Yes, but she’s also incredibly sensitive to what others are feeling around her, and I have this sinking suspicion the problem is me. I think she’s picking up on my stress, especially at night, and her body just can’t process it. I’ve been noticing a pattern. She almost always wets the bed on the nights I have nightmares. I didn’t notice at first because she was always trying to hide it by getting up before me, but at least now in the last few weeks she isn’t trying as hard.” “At least she’s getting more comfortable with you.” “Yes, I think she is, I just wish I could think of something special to do for her to really show her how much she means to…” Jennifer trailed off as her hand brushed up against the check stub in her pocket. Her eyes lit up. “What time is it?” She nearly shouted as she spun around on the spot. “Uh, almost three.” Mrs. Rodger’s said started. “Would you take me somewhere? I have an idea, but I need to hurry!” ……. Christmas came sooner than either of them was prepared for. Matilda was giddy from the excitement from their walk on Christmas Eve to see the lights. She hadn’t even complained when Miss Honey had asked her to wear a pull-up in case there wasn’t an easily accessible bathroom. It ended up being a wise choice because there hadn’t been. During the entire walk through the beautifully decorated park they had only passed two porta- john’s with the longest lines Matilda had ever seen. “How come you never have to pee when we’re out?” Matilda asked, waddling in a now very cold, used pull up. Miss Honey laughed. “Because I don’t drink half my body weight in hot chocolate before leaving the apartment, unlike some people I know.” She teased. “I think it comes with being a teacher. I’m used to holding it, and I’m not about to use one of those porta potties.” She waved a hand in front of her nose and scowled as Matilda giggled. “Hey, how come you get to hold it, but you always tell me not to!” Matilda asked. Just the other day Jenny had had her squat in an ally while Jennifer stood guard after all the stores in the area refused to let her use the bathroom without buying anything first. She could have made it home…probably… “Because I don’t dance around and stick my hands where they don’t belong.” Miss Honey said as they made their way towards home. “Did you have fun?” “Yes! It was so pretty! I loved the big display of Frosty, and that huge tree! How do you think they get all those lights on it? It’s got to be nearly 30 feet tall! This has been the best Christmas ever! Thank you! Thank you!” Matilda gushed clinging onto Miss Honey’s hand. Jennifer laughed. “It’s not even Christmas yet.” “It doesn’t matter! This is the most fun I think i’ve ever had at Christmas.” “To be honest, I think this is my favorite Christmas so far too.” Miss Honey said with a smile. “Thank you.” Neither one of them had slept well that night, not because of nightmares or fears, but because both of them were too giddy. They spent most of the night talking about what they were looking forward to the most the following day. “Mrs. Rodgers cooking.” Miss Honey said. “She’s making all kinds of things! And I can’t wait to see her granddaughter’s face when you beat her at chess.” They both laughed. “She said she hasn’t been able to beat her yet, but I have a pretty good feeling her reign of terror is about to come to an end.” Although, for the life of her, she couldn’t understand what Mrs. Rodger’s had meant when she said, “The pieces kept telling her where to move.” She wondered if that was part of her illness, but she didn’t recall hearing voices as a symptom of tourette’s. It wasn’t until nearly one in the morning when they both finally nodded off, each just secretly excited to give the other their present. When Matilda awoke, she was shocked to discover several wrapped packages sitting on the kitchen table, and Jenny, already up making pancakes. “Merry Christmas!” Jenny sang to a stunned looking Matilda. “Those are for you.” Matilda stared in awe, but then frowned. “How?” She asked confused. They had already gone through the 12 pounds on groceries. “Santa must have brought them.” Jenny laughed as Matilda rolled her eyes. “Well, go on, open them!” Matilda was delighted to open the little candy trinkets Miss Honey had picked out, and the new mug was absolutely her favorite. She threw her arms around Jenny’s waist when she had finished opening everything. “Thank you! I love them! And all these flavors of hot chocolate! I can’t wait to try them!” Matilda exclaimed. “But first…” she dove underneath the bed and pulled out the little gift bag. “This is for you.” “Matilda! You didn’t have to do anything for me.” Jenny said, before flipping pancakes onto a plate and setting it aside. She made her way towards the kitchen table before taking a seat and eyeing Matilda, who bouncing giddily in her chair. She slowly and carefully unwrapped the decorated frame and let out a gasp. “Did you decorate this?” She smiled wide at the picture of the two of them together at the library Mrs. Phelps had had them pose for “for the wall”. “Mrs. Phelps helped me, but turn it over. I wrote the poem for you.” Miss Honey turned it over and began to read. Matilda watched with concern as the woman’s eyes began to fill with tears. Matilda bit her lip anxiously. She had written about how she wished Miss Honey would let her help her through her troubles as she had helped Matilda. “Do you not like it?” “Matilda, I love it.” Jenny said, finally looking up and wiping her face. “Oh, I was going to give you one other thing at dinner, but after this, now I can’t wait.” She stood up and placed the picture carefully on her nightstand before digging through a drawer. She came back with what looked like a wrapped book and handed it to her. Matilda carefully unwrapped it and revealed a lovely black and gold colored diary. “Open it.” Miss Honey urged. Matilda opened the hard cover and was surprised to find several folded pieces of paper inside. She took them and spread them on the table and began to read. She blinked several times. Matilda looked up in surprise. Did this mean what she thought it meant? “I think it’s pastime we made this official.” Miss Honey reached across the table and squeezed her hand. “What do you say to legally becoming my daughter?” “Mom, how?” Matilda asked. Now she had tears in her eyes as she looked over the adoption papers. It was nearly 300 pounds just to file them, not to mention they needed proof of income. “Will you?” Miss Honey asked. Matilda stood up and ran into Miss Honey’s outstretched arms. “Yes!” she cried. “Well that’s a relief, because that’s just a copy, I’ve already filed the paperwork.” Miss Honey said, squeezing Matilda and rocking her back and forth.” “How? They said no last time we tried.” Matilda asked, finally looking up. “Yes, but I got a hold of something I didn’t have before.” Jenny said with a grin. “I got a paycheck. A real one. The whole thing! I was floored! I called the bank my aunt has my paychecks sent to, and they confirmed she closed the account before she took off!” “Mom! That’s wonderful!” Matilda cried. “Yes, I was able to submit my pay stub. We might have to go before a judge in a few weeks for the final ruling, but the hard parts done! Once It’s approved, I can finally make parental choices for you, and move you up into a grade you belong in.” Miss Honey said. “And best of all, even if my aunt does come back, she can’t do anything to separate us. We’ll finally be a real family.” “I love you, mommy.” Matilda said, sniffling into the collar of Jenny’s shirt. “And I love you,” Miss Honey said, before kissing the top of her head. “My daughter.”

Covid finally caught up to me ? I was fairly asymptomatic, but my energy hasn't been the same. I'D write like a sentence and then fall asleep in the chair xD

Matilda could hardly contain her excitement. She skipped and walked quick circles around Jenny, overjoyed to be back on her feet now. It had been what felt like the longest two weeks of her life being stuck in the little wagon. She was free! Free to walk, and free of those wretched diapers. She had a sinking suspicion it was only because she had run out, but free was free. Now was her chance to show Miss Honey she didn’t need them. “Calm down.” Jenny said, but she was beaming too. They had both been in particularly good moods the last few days, it was hard not to be happy without Miss Trunchbull terrorizing the school. It had done wonders for Jenny’s anxiety and Matilda herself had even woken up the last three mornings in a row dry. “You don’t want to wear yourself out before you even get to school.” Jenny reminded her. “I won’t.” Matilda said, but slowed her pace just the same until she had matched Jenny’s slower walk. “Matilda,” Jenny said a little more quietly. The young girl looked up, feeling a bit of dread now. She knew that tone. “I’ve packed a few extra changes of clothes just in case.” Matilda could feel the heat beginning to burn her face. It never got easier talking about this. “I won’t need them.” Matilda insisted, looking away. Not because she was 100% confident it wouldn’t happen, but because she had also snuck a change of clothes into her own backpack while Jenny had been in the shower. “Just in case you do, they’ll be in the nurse's office.” “I can walk to the bathroom now.” Matilda insisted, but her argument felt half-hearted after yesterday. Matilda had been at the library while Jenny was taking driving lessons with Mrs. Rodgers. She had been so engrossed in a book about the solar system she had blocked the rest of the world out completely. It wasn’t until the librarian, Mrs. Phelps, who had promised Jenny she’d keep an eye on her came by and let out a startled gasp did Matilda even look up from her book and realize much too late what she had done. She had never been in trouble with Mrs. Phelps before. She knew she could be strict when it came to disrespecting the library rules and property, but being on the receiving end had been a shock. When Mrs. Phelps had finally finished scolding her for wetting herself in one of the armchairs, she made Matilda clean up the mess, check out her books, and wait outside for Jenny to pick her up. Matilda was nervous about returning to the library today after school, but there was one thing that scared her more than an angry Mrs. Phelps, and that was Jenny’s driving. She was proud of her mom for trying new things, but there was nothing wrong with being proud of her from the safety of an armchair. Miss Honey was trying to drive stick, and the near constant lurching back and forth from the back seat had been too much for Matilda’s stomach to take. She had only just managed to scurry out in time before losing her lunch in the street. “I’m sure you’ll be fine if you put your mind to it.” Jenny said, patting her shoulder. “But don’t beat yourself up too badly if anything happens. Do try to be more careful at the library though.” Matilda gritted her teeth. She still couldn't believe she had done that. It wasn't like she had had a legit accident, she had just completely forgotten that she wasn't wearing a diaper anymore. She couldn't believe she had done something so dumb. In as little as two weeks she had almost managed to untrain herself. "I could stop by the store and get you more pull-ups before I take you to the library." Jenny offered. Matilda quickly shook her head. "Please don't." she begged. "I just wasn't thinking." "Are you sure? You were awfully upset yesterday when I found you." Jenny said. "You were throwing snowballs at the side of the building." She said before adding, "without touching them." "I've never been kicked out of the library before." Matilda mumbled. She was so embarrassed she was even tempted to cave to Jenny's offer, but she decided against it for a couple of reasons. The first being she just had to get this under control, and the second was why Jenny hadn't just gone out and gotten more when she had run out. She couldn't afford them. As much as Jenny tried to hide things like finances, it was nearly impossible to hide things from her. Matilda didn't need to see her checkbook. She could do the math in her head. There was rent, food, utilities, etc. etc. It was also nearing Christmas and the end of the month. She had told Jenny a million times she didn't want anything for Christmas. She had even lied and said her family had never celebrated it anyway, but Jenny had spotted the Wormwood's car going by with a large red bow and antlers. "It's just for show." Matilda had insisted. "He always said it was good for business." Miss Honey hadn't believed her though. "It really wasn't anything special there anyway." Matilda admitted. "I only ever wanted books, but got hair accessories and nail polish instead. I already have everything I want." Matilda insisted squeezing Miss Honey's hand. "You're sweet, but a terrible liar." She knew Jenny had only been joking, but the comment had made Matilda a little angry. "Do you really think I'd be upset if you didn't buy me stuff?" Matilda asked, emphasizing the last word. "We have a little over seven pounds to last two weeks after making the minimum payment to the hospital. Don't waste it on that." "You're not supposed to know that." Jenny said with a sigh. "It's our first Christmas together. I want it to be special." "It will be!" Matilda insisted. "I've always wanted someone to walk down Santa Claus Lane with and look at the lights on Christmas Eve, and we can drink hot chocolate, and play chess, and read. I've never had anyone to do any of those things with on Christmas." Miss Honey seemed to genuinely smile at the suggestion. "I would love to do those things with you on Christmas." Jenny said. "I should consider myself fortunate you know Santa isn't real." She frowned in confusion when the girl beside her stopped walking. She looked behind her. "Matilda, why did yo-" She froze at the look of horror on her face. No! No! No! She did not just do what she thought she did! She remained silent, a feeling of panic over taking her senses...until the girl began to burst into giggles. "Oh, you little..." "The look on your face." Matilda said, bending over to catch her breath. "I'm sorry, I couldn't help it. You did just tell a five-year-old Santa wasn't real." Miss Honey gave her a playful shove. "Keep it up, and you're getting a mug of coal for Christmas instead of hot chocolate." "If Santa was real I'd ask to stop wetting the bed." Matilda mumbled. "If Santa was real, I'd ask that it didn't bother you so much, even if you did." Matilda scrunched up her face in disgust. "Can't you just ask I not do it either?" "Hmm, nope." Miss Honey said. "Can't have you thinking I'd trade you in for a dryer model." "A dryer model?" Matilda asked with a slight giggle. "It's just an inconvenience, sweetie, you understand that, right? I'm not mad or disappointed in you in any way. None of this is your fault." "It's my body. I should be able to control it." Matilda grumbled. "If only it worked that way." Miss Honey said, wrapping an arm around Matilda's shoulder. "You remember last week when you had to wake me up from that nightmare?" "Yeah, you were screaming in your sleep." "Do you also remember that I couldn't stop shaking, and you sat up with me half the night?" "Yeah, but-" "Do you think less of me? Even though I'm an adult who has nightmares, something mostly associated with small children." Matilda frowned. "Of course not." "Just because it's your body, it doesn't mean you always have control over it, even if you want to. I'm supposed to be the adult, but you were the one having to talk me down and tell me it was just a dream. Of course, you helped me, but I still felt ashamed." "So you, sort of, understand what it feels like?" Matilda asked. "I do, more than you know." “I liked being able to help you though.” Matilda said. “You weren’t a bother.” Although she could do without getting smacked in the nose by flailing limbs. Sometimes sleeping next to Jenny was dangerous. Matilda felt the arm tighten around her. “I don’t want you to have to see me like that though. There are certain expectations with being an adult, even more so being a parent, and I’m afraid I don’t meet many of them.” Matilda stopped walking and looked up at Miss Honey. “Who says it has to be one-sided?” Matilda asked. Jennifer furrowed her eyebrows in confusion. “If you want to be what I need, why can’t I want the same? Why can’t we both just look out for each other? We made up our own family, why can’t we make up our own rules too? If neither of us fit into a box, then let’s be a circle.” “A circle, huh?” Jenny said with a smile. She knelt down and wrapped her arms around the small girl and held her close. “We’re in front of the school, you know.” Matilda said, but made no move to break apart. “I don’t care.” Miss Honey whispered. “You’re already everything I need.”

Going to the open mic night again tonight and this is the 5 minute collection of stories I have to share. Last week I did the telling the cop I had drugs up my ass, grandma's funeral and a really awkward pap smear. This week is the disability fair, pulling my aunts wig off, telling a cute guy I had a penis, and the one time I experimented with an edible. Hey, my name’s [Sasha] and if you couldn’t already tell, or you remember me from last week. I have Tourette’s. I have the rare kind that 5 to 10% of people with Tourette’s have, the kind that makes you blurt out the most inappropriate thing possible, whether it be yelling racial slurs, anti-Semitic remarks, homophobic or sacrilegious statements, etc. The more pressure there is not to say something, the more likely I’m going to yell it at the top of my lungs. It has to do with the settings I’m in. I’m not going to walk into a cracker barrel and start shouting the N word. What I do end up doing is yelling things like “I have a bomb” at the airport, “I have drugs up my ass.” to cops, “I have a gun” when in a bank. What sets it off the worst in religious symbolism. I live by a Catholic Church and sometimes there are nuns running errands around the area. If I see a nun I will immediately go the other way. The last time I had to deal with nuns was at a Disability fair. The Tourette’s booth was looking for volunteers, so I drove all the way out to Pasadena not knowing it was at a Catholic Church. It went okay until Mass let out and everyone from the church started pouring in. There were nuns and boy scouts in uniform, old people in wheelchairs and I managed to involuntarily sexually harass all of them. Whenever a nun would come by I kept yelling I was going to shove a crucifix up their ass. I could just see their fingers itching to reach in their habits and pull out a yard stick to smack me. I know everyone’s heard of Will Smith slapping Chris Rock, blah blah blah, but if that's his reaction to a little joke, I would be dead if I did to his wife what I accidentally did to my aunt. She also has alopecia, shaves her head and wears a wig. So this one night we are at her sons’ girlfriend's house having dinner and playing board games. I start to feel that tell-tale pressure build up feeling in my arm, so thinking it just needs to shake or something, I let it happen. Only instead of shaking or wiggling around, I reach out, grab my aunts head, and rip her wig off in front of everyone at the dinner table. The girlfriends' family has never seen her without her wig, probably didn’t even know she wore a wig, and were just both staring at each other horrified. I’ve never felt so betrayed by my own body before. Luckily for me, she found the situation hilarious. So I had a lot of health problems growing up. I think I fell out of my family tree and hit my head on every branch on the way down. When I was 16 I had a cardiac pacemaker put in the left side of my chest, and when I was 30 I had a deep brain stimulator put in the right side, Which really just amounts to me having the most high-tech and expensive boob job money can buy. Your boobs may be perky, but can they connect to Bluetooth? Where’s your Bluetooth boobies, peasants? My symptoms have really gotten a lot better since the DBS surgery, but no matter how many times I tell people about it, I can’t get the acronym right. I keep accidentally calling it BDSM surgery. It took a really long time to get too because all the surgeons were currently tied up with other patients. Something I used to do a lot before the surgery was punch myself in the face. No annoying child needed to play the “stop hitting yourself game” So I was in the bathroom up at Chumash, and I’m washing my hands at the sink, and this lady approaches me and hands me her card and she goes “If you ever need help, call that number” and leaves. I’m looking at the card feeling confused, like why did this lady give me a card for a domestic abuse hotline. I look at myself in the mirror and was like oh god. I had this large green and purple bruise healing on the right side of my face, my eye was all swollen. She thought I was in an abusive relationship. How was I supposed to explain I’m in an abusive relationship with myself? So I do find myself getting into fights sometimes in public. I’ve been hit, slapped, had someone kick my car. I can’t really blame them though. With all the racial tension right now, the last thing someone's going to think after turning around in the grocery store to find a white woman yelling slurs isn’t going to be, “this lady has a medical condition and is probably even more horrified about it than I am.” No, they’re going to channel that one fish off of sponge bob that’s always like “HOW MANY TIMES ARE WE GOING TO HAVE TO TEACH YOU THIS LESSON OLD MAN!” and next thing you know I’m channeling the other fish that goes, “MY LEG!” I think the strangest fight I’ve ever been in has got to be with someone's service dog in a Starbucks. I had turned around suddenly and spotted this yellow lab, and before I could do anything, boom the association had been made. I started barking, not little yaps, but full on guttural growls and barks from deep in my throat. This freaks the dog out, and in turn he starts barking back at me. The “conversation gets heated” Soon the lady is yanking on the dog's harness, going, “I’m so sorry this never happens” and my friends got me by the shirt collar pulling me back saying, “I wish I could say the same.” The employees are like “what the heck lady?” and I’m just like, “I’m sorry, my friends tell me I turn into a bit of a bitch when I’m on my period.” Ordering drinks or food is really hard for me sometimes. No matter how well I think I’m doing, tics can come out at the most randomest of times and even interrupt me mid-sentence. Does anyone ever have to rehearse several times what they need to say before walking into minor social situations? I’m an introvert, and even things like that can be terrifying. Like this has happened to me several times, I’ll be going through a drive through and be like“ hi, yeah, can I get the number 10 with the GRANDMA PUT YOUR PANTS BACK ON!” Roll up to the window, and they’re like *covers eyes* “Here’s your order.* Here’s another couple of examples of tics changing what I’m trying to say. So is anyone here familiar with the song THE BAD TOUCH from the Blood Hound Gang? I had been listening to it before getting out of the car and there’s this specific lyric of the song. My tics literally could have chosen any other one, but no, it had to go with this one. There was this guy I had been talking to working the host desk. I liked him, he was nice to me, even if it was just because he had to. So I see him and I go up to say hi, only what ends up coming out of my mouth are the worst song lyrics possible for this situation. “STICK YOUR HANDS DOWN MY PANTS AND I’LL BET YOU’LL FEEL NUTS.” I was so horrified I ended up just walking away, and I never saw him again after that to explain. So there’s this guy out there who thinks I randomly walked up to him, yelled at the top of my lungs I have a penis, and left. So I tried a lot of other things before I did brain surgery, obviously. All sorts of medications, neuro-biofeedback, meditation, but I think the worst was weed. Everyone kept telling me I needed to try weed, and it was a bucket list thing for me. I wanted to see what it felt like to get high at least once, just to see what it was like. I have asthma, so I can’t smoke, so I had the bright idea to try an edible. I had no idea what a dosage was, all I knew was yummy, this is a good brownie. I ate the whole damn thing. And I’m waiting and waiting. I’m starting to think, these edibles ain't sh- *eyes grow wide* Never again. I have never in my life been that scared. All night long I had zero control over my body. I was lying on my friend's bed, sweating and involuntarily punching and kicking the air non-stop. And my dear, dear friend… so supportive and helpful, took her cellphone and started playing a song. The next thing I heard was, “EVERYBODY WAS KUNG FU FIGHTING!” And my tics started making me punch and kick to the beat of the song. So yeah, those are this week's stories I have for you, I hope you enjoyed them.

$4 lol I was just shocked by the gesture.

Omg omg omg. I did it! I got up and did stand up comedy for the first time at a bar that was having open mic night. I was terrible at it and tripping over my words, but people were laughing and it made me so happy! While I was up someone put a glass of $ on stage next to me and the host found me after and explained it was for me as a tip 0.0 They got my phone number and asked me to come back next week, so I guess it went pretty well!

Thanks =] its a more humorous story about Olivia involuntarily yelling voldemorts name and barking at McGonagall

I live in the city with a large homeless population. It's gotten really bad since covid. It's almost impossible to find a bathroom since covid. Even pre-covid you'd end up eventually peeing behind a dumpster.

what timing lol I'm a sucker for Matilda/ harry potter crossovers. It's a bit of a weakness of mine. I accidentally gave the main character the last name Rodgers in a hp fanfic, and then realized that's what I named the school nurse here. Names are not my forte.

For the sake of making that last chapter make a little more sense, It's a crossover of another story I'm working on that has nothing to do with diapers or bodily fluids etc. I accidentally gave them the same last name so I thought it would be fun to establish they come from the same universe. You can read it here https://archiveofourown.org/works/36323617/chapters/90556519 Someone also decided to mansplain tourettes to me on a different site and tell me I was representing it wrong. FFS... I have one of the worst documented cases of tourettes in my state. For some humorous stories in the hopes of making you laugh, please see this thread

The day that followed felt eerily similar to the day before. Matilda rode in the wagon in silence feeling just as sullen about her undergarments as yesterday, except now, she was wrapped in the thickest winter coat she had thought to pack from Harry and Zinnia’s house. The chill of the crisp winter morning crept into her bones no matter how tightly she hugged herself. Their breath left visible puffs of air that reminded Matilda of cigar smoke. She watched her mom and frowned as she pulled the wagon. When Matilda had asked why she wasn’t wearing a coat, Miss Honey had shaken her head and smiled. “I don’t need one. I like the cold; it makes me feel awake and energized.” Matilda let out a discouraged sigh. She wished her new mother would be more honest with her. Matilda had been tempted to remind her she could feel what she did, but she knew it made Miss Honey even more uncomfortable than her telekinesis for some reason. When she had tried to ask her why, Miss Honey had gone red in the face and mumbled something about adults needing their privacy. “Because of sex stuff, right?” Matilda had asked innocently. Jenny had nearly dropped her mug of coffee to the floor. She had never seen the woman’s face change so many colors in such a short amount of time. “What?” “Matilda!” Miss Honey hissed, looking a combination of horrified, embarrassed, and shocked. She had begun muttering a slew of unintelligible syllables before she had managed to calm down enough to utter a clear sentence. “That’s not an appropriate topic for someone your age.” Matilda had frowned, looking confused. “Why not? It’s just basic human biology. Almost every species mates in order to reproduce, aside from those that use parthenogenesis, it’s only obvious humans would too.” Miss Honey had hid her face in her hands for almost a solid minute before lowering them and staring at Matilda. “What is parthenogenesis?” “The ability to self fertilize without male involvement. Chickens, turkeys, some insects, reptiles, and even certain species of sharks have been known to do it when the population dips.” Matilda had answered staring puzzled at the frazzled woman from across the table. “An-and, how,” Miss Honey swallowed nervously, “do you know what ‘sex stuff is?’” “Biology books from the library.” Matilda shrugged. “I wanted to know where babies came from.” Miss Honey blew out her held breath, seemed to visibly relax, and chuckled nervously. “Sorry, I guess I should have figured. My mind jumped to the worst case scenario, and I forgot you’re not like other kids your age.” Matilda frowned. “Worst case scenario?” Matilda asked. Miss Honey began to fidget nervously. “It’s never usually a good sign when children are knowledgeable on this subject. They either looked at something they weren’t supposed to, which is bad, or an adult taught them, which is much worse.” Miss Honey said, looking serious. Matilda frowned again and began feeling guilty. “Was I not supposed to read what I did?” Matilda asked after a few minutes of silence. Had she done something wrong? Miss Honey smiled and shook her head. “No dear, you're fine. Your mind works differently than most people, and I think it’s something I still need to get used to. If there’s anything you ever want to ask me, you can, but it’s still very important not to share this information with the other children.” “Why is it okay for me to look at it and not other kids?” Matilda asked. Everyone always called her “different” and, “special” but she looked just like any other kid in her class. “Because the other kids aren’t mature enough to handle it, their parents probably still tell them babies come from storks.” “Storks?” Matilda was very confused now. “But we’re mammals! We don’t hatch from eggs! Who in their right mind would believe such a silly thing?” Miss Honey chuckled. “I bet you the last packet of hot chocolate, if you ask Lavender, she won’t even know what a mammal is. My point is, we need to let your classmates, and the older children, keep their innocence as long as possible. Once you learn you exist because your parents had sex, there’s no going back.” “But it’s the truth.” Matilda said. “Why would you want to believe a lie?” Miss Honey had seemed to find her answer very amusing. “No one wants to think of their parents that way. I’m an adult and I certainly don’t want to think about the woman who raised me doing it. Personally, I’d prefer a stork bringing me a baby over having sex.” Miss Honey said before clamping a hand over her face. “Forget I said that.” Matilda frowned again. “You don’t like it?” Matilda asked. Miss Honey’s face went very red, but she remained silent. Matilda finally understood. “You’ve never had sex? I thought all adults had sex.” Miss Honey hid her face behind her hands again. “What? You said I could ask you anything.” “Yeah, but, I didn’t mean about my sex life!” Miss Honey muttered from behind her hands. “So you have? I’m confused.” Matilda answered looking up at her with wide innocent eyes. “I’m not talking about this with you! This is very inappropriate.” “But don’t you want kids of your own someday?” Miss Honey stared at her for a moment before taking a deep breath and chanting something that sounded like, “Her mind works differently. Her mind works differently,” before composing herself and smiling. “Why would I need a child of my own? I have you now. This is all I need to be happy.” But Matilda could sense a deep sadness coming from her. “You’re lying.” Matilda said blankly. They stared at each other for a moment before Miss Honey admitted the truth. “I can’t have children of my own from an old injury.” Matilda thought of that letter again and clenched her fists. The anger was beginning to reemerge, and if she wasn’t careful, she’d lose control of her powers. “I’m sorry, you probably want a normal child, not someone-” She suddenly felt Miss Honey’s hands around hers. “I want you. Just the way you are, got that? Nosey questions and all.” Matilda shivered as she thought about their conversation on the way to school. She had a feeling Miss Honey was merely settling with her, since she couldn’t have a baby of her own, but she had hid her suspicions behind a smile. Now she examined their relationship more closely. There was Miss Honey’s insistence of her wearing diapers to school, as well as the weird incident with the pacifier in the hospital, which she knew for a fact Miss Honey had taken home with them. She had even tried to put it in Matilda’s mouth the first night back when she had been in so much pain she was making things levitate around the room. Then of course, Matilda had started thinking of the issue of bed-wetting itself. She had almost never wet the bed until she had gotten close to Jenny. What if, in Matilda’s sleeping unconscious mind, she had picked up on Miss Honey’s desire for a baby and her body had decided to respond? What if they slept separately? Would she stop wetting the bed? Matilda’s heart began to ache at the thought. That would mean no more cuddling together, or reading together before bedtime. Was she really willing to give it up just to stop wearing pull-ups to bed? She let out a long sigh and shook her head. What had happened to her? She used to be so independent, and now the thought of even sleeping apart from her new mom scared her. When they entered the school they found Hortensia waiting for them by the classroom door. “She’s not here again.” Hortensia announced. Matilda felt relieved, but she was surprised when she felt the worry coming from Miss Honey. She scowled, was Miss Honey worried about the Trunchbull? Matilda focused, but she could never make out the cause for Miss Honey’s feelings, only the emotions themselves. “Here’s my keys, would you mind staying in the classroom with Matilda till I get back? I want to go talk to Mr. Trilby.” Miss Honey said, and without waiting for an answer, left them in the hall. Matilda was both annoyed that Miss Honey thought she needed a babysitter at school and relieved now that she could talk to Hortensia in private.” “Did you give Charlotte her cotton ball? She seemed attached to it.” Matilda said. Hortensia rolled her eyes before picking up the wagon's handle and heading toward the year one classroom. “Yes, I made sure to dump out the cotton ball too.” Hortensia said. “I even caught her a few extra friends.” “Really? When? How? What did you do with them?” Matilda asked. Although her voice was still raspy, she was glad to notice today she didn’t need to stop for breath every couple words. “As soon as I got home the night when we were in the Emergency Room, I got in a fight with Ma, so I took the bottle and went for a walk. I eventually ended up in front of the Trunchbull’s house. The car doors were locked, but the sunroof wasn’t! I opened it, dumped Peter Porker in the front seat, and Charlotte with her cotton ball in the back. Then I decided to start looking around to see if there was anything else I could add.” Hortensia said before shrugging. “It was just a few little garden spiders, if anything the other two will eat them, but it was something.” Matilda felt impressed. Hortensia had been scared of spiders, yet she had gone and planted them and even went looking for more. “Yeah, she told me there were spiders in her car.” Matilda said with a laugh. Hortensia stared at her with a look of confusion. “When did you see the Trunchbull? She called out the day after, yesterday, and now she’s a no show today as well.” Her eyes lit up. “Do you think she got bit?” Matilda sat in silence for a moment. She hadn’t known the Trunchbull hadn’t been back in school since attacking her. She reluctantly let her mind wander to the night she was attacked. The headmistress was standing over her, just as angry, red-faced, and foul as always, and yet… Was it her imagination playing tricks on her, or had she been drooling? Did the left side of her face always sag that much? And the real question, why attack her when she knew she couldn’t get away with it? “No,” Matilda said. “I think… I think she might have a brain tumor.” Hortensia scrunched up her face. “ “Who has a brain tumor?” Miss Honey asked, standing in the doorway. Hortensia shrugged. “No one, I’m just thinking out loud.” Matilda said. Miss Honey smiled. “I want to hear.” Miss Honey said. “I don’t know.” Matilda said. “What if there was a reason the Trunchbull was so vile? It’s the third day she’s called out with headaches, and the last time I saw her, she wasn’t making much sense. And when she…” She eyed Hortensia and rephrased. “She hadn’t really thought that through.” Miss Honey stared blankly at her for a moment. “You think the headmistress has a brain tumor?” Matilda shrugged. “There’s something called a glioblastoma multiforme. It’s an aggressive tumor, and causes headaches, personality changes and aggressive behavior. You said her behavior’s been getting worse over time.” “Well, yes, but she’s always been aggressive and foul tempered.” “I guess I’m just looking for an explanation.” Matilda said. “I like when things make sense.” “You weren’t looking through any medical text books when you were in the hospital, were you?” Miss Honey asked. “I, umm, might have been.” Matilda admitted. “One of the doctors was very nice and let me skim through the books in his office.” Miss Honey sighed and shook her head. “I hope you didn’t see anything in those that scared you.” “What did Mr. Trilby have to say?” Matilda asked, hoping to change the subject. “She never called out this morning; she just didn’t show. He said he’s thinking of going over and checking in on her.” “He’s brave.” Hortensia said. “Well, after what you’ve told me, I think it might be a good idea.” Miss Honey said. “I mean, I doubt she has a brain tumor, but I’m starting to learn to trust your hunches. They’re frighteningly accurate.” “A girl can hope.” Hortensia said. Miss Honey looked like she was going to tell her off for wishing harm come to a person, even if that person happened to be a demon sent to earth to wreak havoc, but Matilda could see a slight smile begin to tug at the corners of her mouth. Despite Lavender’s pleas, Matilda had insisted on staying in the back of the class today. She was behind on her school work from missing so many days, and she found being so close to Miss Honey was a distraction she didn’t need. To be fair, she also didn’t feel like being watched so closely. She found it a bit unnerving. If she had to wet herself, she wanted at least a little privacy. If she wasn’t embarrassed, maybe her powers wouldn’t go out of control. Matilda had been right about that. She had been deep into her world history text book when she felt the first urge. Instead of making the mistake of looking around, or trying to hold it until she couldn’t, she kept her nose buried in her book and just let it happen. She shuddered involuntarily and tried to focus on the text. It was easier than it had been yesterday, but still unpleasant overall. She tried to picture the sudden warmth was coming from a heating pad wrapped around her waist instead of bodily fluids. If she did that it wasn’t so gross; the warmth almost felt kind of good compared to the chilly air of the classroom, if she didn’t think too hard about what had caused it. Then as if she hadn’t just purposefully gone against one of the most basic natural orders of the universe, she went back to studying. Matilda had been so engrossed in her studies she hadn’t even noticed the lunch bell. It wasn’t until Miss Honey was standing over her did she even snap back into reality. “How’s it going back here? I haven’t seen anything move by itself today.” Miss Honey said. Matilda looked around surprised she would mention it, until she noticed all the other kids had been dismissed already. “It’s better back here.” Matilda admitted, before mumbling, “easier.” Miss Honey look relieved. “I’m glad you’re not so uncomfortable as you were yesterday. I’m sure you’re eager for something drier.” Matilda nodded, a bit of a blush creeping into her cheeks. She had been miserable when it had gotten cold, so she had used it again despite knowing she could have easily held it until lunch, just to warm herself up. She hadn’t realized it had been this close to lunch though. “Oh shoot.” Miss Honey said once they were alone in the bathroom in the nurse's office. “You’re soaked.” Matilda felt around with her hands once she had been freed from the diaper and set on the toilet. No wonder she had been so cold, she had leaked into her pants. Looks like she really should have held it until lunch after all. “Maybe there’s a blanket we could drape over your lap for the rest of the day. Well, go on and kick them off, and I’ll see if Mrs. Rodgers can help. Matilda frowned, but obliged. She didn’t like how often she had to ask Mrs. Rodgers for clothes. “Can I get off now?” Matilda asked. She didn’t dare try and hop off just yet. The toilet in the nurse’s office wasn’t small like the others, and she was good couple feet off the ground. Her body wasn’t ready for such an impact. Even the small ones still weren’t an option yet. “Have you gone?” Matilda shook her head. She hadn’t even been able to pee. “Well try for a bit longer while I go talk to Mrs. Rodgers.” Miss Honey said while she slipped out the door. Matilda sat for a bit, swinging her legs back and forth before eyeing the faucet on the sink. Maybe that would help. She focused on the faucet until it turned on. Much better. A few moments later she heard a knock coming from somewhere. She frowned in confusion. It wasn’t coming from the door. It was coming from behind her from the window. She turned her body as much as she could and stared at the blinds. There it was again! Someone was wrapping their knuckles on the glass. What in the world? The nurses' office was a few feet off the ground. The school wasn’t quite what she would call level, sitting at one and half stories. Whoever was knocking on the window would have to be a giant. Matilda reached a hand out, curiosity outweighing caution, and tentatively lifted a blind. Huge black eyes greeted her. She dropped the blind in a panic and let out a scream. A moment later Miss Honey rushed back in without closing the door behind her. “What? What is it? Are you okay?” Miss Honey asked in a panic. “There’s something out there!” Matilda cried. She lifted her arms. “Get me off! Get me off! Get me off!” Miss Honey picked her up as Matilda clung to her, heart racing. “There it is again!” Matilda nearly yelled as the rapping against the window continued. “No, don’t open the blinds! It’s a mon-” the words stopped in her throat as Miss Honey pulled the blinds up. “Woah!” Matilda gasped. It wasn’t a monster now that she could see the rest of it. Miss Honey let out a gasp as well. “How beautiful.” It was a large barn owl sitting on the edge of the building and tapping the window with its beak. “Everything okay in here?” Mrs. Rodgers asked, poking her head in. “I heard screaming.” “Look.” Miss Honey said stepping aside. “It’s an owl. I’ve never seen one up this close, or during the day.” “Umm, mom.” Matilda whispered, pulling on Miss Honey’s sleeve. “I need clothes.” Miss Honey snapped out of her trance. “Sorry, right.” Miss Honey carried her out quickly and set her down on the cot before pulling the curtain around them. “Well that was unexpected.” Miss Honey said, before grabbing her bag she had set by the bathroom door. “Olivia, can you come here in the bathroom!” they heard Mrs. Rodger’s shout. “Whose Olivia?” Matilda whispered, trying to distract herself from the awkward situation going on below her waist. “Mrs. Rodger’s granddaughter from the states, she’s in town for the holidays visiting from some kind of boarding school. She’s very excited to have her here, she hasn’t seen her since she was a baby.” Matilda heard footsteps enter the bathroom, before some kind of commotion. She frowned. Were they opening the window? She strained to hear more. They were having some kind of argument. She knew it was rude to eaves drop, but she couldn’t help it. “It wasn’t me. I swear!” a girl's voice said Matilda assumed could only be Olivia. “Why else would an owl be here carrying a letter addressed to you? Are you sure you didn’t do it on accident?” Mrs. Rodger’s said. An owl? Carrying a letter? What in the world were they talking about?” Suddenly she heard loud swearing, before a mumbled apology. “It’s alright, I just don’t want you getting in trouble with your new school.” “I swear, I didn’t do…anything.” Matilda heard footsteps coming out of the bathroom before someone crumpling up a piece of paper and threw it into the nearby waste paper basket. Matilda wondered what it was. She must have heard wrong. She hadn’t seen the owl carrying a letter, at least not in its beak. Matilda had read about owls carrying messages, but it was hardly the 1800s. She heard more swearing, followed by another apology. “You don’t have to apologize every time, dear.” “Right, sorry. No, wait, I mean-” Olivia started to say, but heard Mrs. Rodger’s begin to laugh. “Calm down.” “She has a bit of a condition.” Miss Honey whispered. Matilda looked confused. There was more swearing, followed by a bunch of words that almost sounded made up. “Are you sure it wasn’t that they picked up on?” Miss Rodger’s asked. “I don’t think so. It’s not like the words themselves do anything.” Olivia said. “I don’t think. BLOODY HELL YOU CALL THAT A BISCUIT!?” Matilda jumped in surprise. So that’s what Miss Honey had meant. “Tourette’s?” Matilda silently mouthed. Miss Honey nodded. “You’re all done.” Miss Honey said, “I’m just not sure what to do about your pants.” She pulled the curtain back and the figure standing by the curtain let out a surprised yelp. She spun around and Matilda came face to face with a black haired girl about Hortensia’s age. “I’m sorry! Fuck. Cocksucker. Biscuit muncher! I didn’t know anyone was here. I’M A WITCH!” Olivia hid her face behind a palm. “Sorry.” “You look a bit young for a witch. You don’t even have any boils.” Matilda said. Hortensia would like her. “You read too many stories.” Olivia said with a small smile. “If you only knew.” Miss Honey muttered. “Is your grandma around? We’re having a bit of a wardrobe malfunction.” “Yeah, she’s IN THE OVEN BAKING AT 350 DEGREES FAHRENHEIT! Umm, in the back.” Olivia said. “Still feels weird. I didn’t even know she was alive until my headmaster sent me to stay with her over the holidays.” Matilda raised an eyebrow. How did she not know her grandma was alive? She was so intrigued by this stranger, it wasn’t until her legs began to feel cold did it remind her of her situation. She let out an eep and tried to cover herself, but it was clear Olivia had already seen what she was wearing. She gave Matilda a sympathetic smile and shrugged. “Don’t worry about it. I’ve got my own embarrassing problems.” “It’s Tourette’s, right?” Matilda asked, trying to pull her shirt down as much as possible with little success. “I’m surprised you know what it is.” Olivia said, then looked to Miss Honey. “Is my grandma telling everyone?” “Matilda is… intelligent for her age.” Miss Honey said. “Don’t let her size fool you.” Olivia shrugged before walking towards the back. Miss Rodger’s came out a few moments later and Miss Honey followed her, leaving Matilda alone. Matilda eyed the wastepaper basket. Now was her chance. She focused the power in her eyes and pulled it towards her. It slid loudly across the tile, until it stopped by the cot. Matilda bent down and picked up the crumpled letter before opening it. She stared at it puzzled. It was a very fancy and official looking card addressed to Olivia but… She scrunched her face in confusion. What in the world was The Ministry of Magic? Underage Sorcery? Decree for underage wizards? She threw the note back in the wastepaper basket before hearing Olivia scream from the back of the room. “AGAIN? IT’S NOT ME! UGH!” Matilda quickly sent the wastepaper basket back to where it was before she heard a gasp. She looked up and found Olivia staring at her wide-eyed. Oh, crud. She saw. Matilda swallowed nervously, but Olivia said something that caught her off guard. “It’s you. You’re the one casting magic! GRANDMA! I FOUND THE CULPRIT!” Matilda saw another envelope clenched in her fist. Mrs. Rodger’s and Miss Honey came out of the back room looking puzzled. Mrs. Rodger’s looked at the envelope in Olivia’s hand, then at a very guilty looking Matilda. “That’s not possible.” Mrs. Rodger’s said in a hushed tone. “I saw her move the trashcan! And-” Another loud rapping sound. “Bloody hell, again!?” Olivia stormed into the bathroom and came back with another identical envelope. “See, they think it’s me, but it’s not! I saw her!” “It’s not Matilda. We’ll talk about this later.” Mrs. Rodger’s hissed. Olivia gritted her teeth before eyeing Matilda and heading back towards Mrs. Rodger’s office. “Ignore her.” Mrs. Rodger’s laughed nervously. “She has delusions sometime’s and thinks she sees things.” Matilda felt a pang of guilt. Had she gotten Olivia in trouble somehow by using her powers? For some reason she couldn’t just let it go. She couldn’t let Mrs. Rodger’s think her granddaughter was crazy so, against her better judgement, she pointed to the trashcan by Mrs. Rodger’s feet and made it rise. Miss Honey sighed as Mrs. Rodgers jumped back. “She’s not delusional.” Matilda said. “Have I ever told you Matilda has telekinesis?” Miss Honey said with a nervous laugh. There was another round of rapping on the window. “FOR FUCK's SAKE, IT’S NOT ME!” “I believe you now.” Mrs. Rodger’s said staring dumbfounded. Matilda let the trashcan drop to the floor as the adults stared at it. A wave of exhaustion swept over Matilda. She hadn’t recovered her strength yet and had tried to do too much too soon. She laid back down on the cot and closed her eyes. “Can I stay here and sleep for a bit?” she mumbled, but before she got an answer a new voice emerged. She forced her eyes open. “Miss Honey! There you are! I’ve been looking for you!” Mr. Trilby said. “I just got back from the headmistresses house. She’s gone!” “Gone?” Miss Honey asked. “What do you mean? Like out shopping or to the doctors?” “No! I mean gone gone! All her clothes, everything. She’s just disappeared!” Mr. Trilby said, before calming down. “This was on the door. It’s for you.” He handed Miss Honey the note. With trembling fingers, she opened the letter and read. Drop the charges and it’s all yours. The House, the money, the brat, everything. Miss Honey’s eyes widened. She was scared! She couldn’t believe it. The Trunchbull had gone on the run! She was tempted to accept. She was so tempted, but… What if she ran and started over? What if she restarted the cycle of abuse? Found a new school, injured more children? More people? She tore the note in half. Matilda had given her the courage to fight, and she was going to see this to the bitter end. Now wasn’t the time to hide back in her shell. “Not a chance.” Miss Honey said.

No one lets y ou use the restroom here >.< they put fake Out of Order signs on the door ?

I mostly blame McDonald's ? then the 4 gas stations that wouldn't let me use their restroom, then my tics ??

Not happy about it ?? neither was she happy about the time I shit myself in her car ??????