Chickophobia
The door of the chicken coop slammed shut. The chickens surrounded me, hopping towards me, as I fumbled to stand. The chicken coop was tiny with brown speckles on the ground like brown sprinkles on a chocolate cupcake. I sprinted towards the door, it wouldn't budge. I would be stuck with the chickens until I found a way out.
I was covered in goose bumps from head to toe, but it wasn't from the cold. It was because of my chickophobia. I had had chickophobia ever since I was two years old when a chicken had bitten my pants and the whole day there had been a hole in them. They scared me in every way possible. From their tiny, little claws to their devil-like eyes. It was all because of Miss C that I had to collect the eggs. She hated me and I loathed her. She chose me to do every dirty job, but this (by far) is the worst job she had ever given me.
I sidled towards the eggs cautiously. I was almost there when unexpectedly, I stumbled and face …show more content…
As I sprinted to open the door I remembered that it was stuck. I would have to climb over the fence... My feet landed on the ground with a loud thud. I was safe from the chickens. I sighed with relief (inside, however, I was anxious of the punishment I would receive from Miss C for collecting one egg. "Joey," Miss C barked from across the lawn, "where are the eggs." Her eyes travelled across my egg and poo covered face, down my weak arms, which were wearing a white t-shirt that was now as dirty as a toddler's shirt that hadn't been washed for 4 years, and onto my hands. I walked towards her when suddenly, I fumbled and tripped. The egg flew out of my hand and splatted across Miss C's face. Her face turned as red as a ripe tomato about to burst. She screamed and stormed off towards the rest of the class who were now all giggling amongst each other. I wiped my sweaty hands across my putrid-smelling face. My heart lifted. No more Miss C or should I say her real name; Miss
The door of the chicken coop slammed shut. The chickens surrounded me, hopping towards me, as I fumbled to stand. The chicken coop was tiny with brown speckles on the ground like brown sprinkles on a chocolate cupcake. I sprinted towards the door, it wouldn't budge. I would be stuck with the chickens until I found a way out.
I was covered in goose bumps from head to toe, but it wasn't from the cold. It was because of my chickophobia. I had had chickophobia ever since I was two years old when a chicken had bitten my pants and the whole day there had been a hole in them. They scared me in every way possible. From their tiny, little claws to their devil-like eyes. It was all because of Miss C that I had to collect the eggs. She hated me and I loathed her. She chose me to do every dirty job, but this (by far) is the worst job she had ever given me.
I sidled towards the eggs cautiously. I was almost there when unexpectedly, I stumbled and face …show more content…
As I sprinted to open the door I remembered that it was stuck. I would have to climb over the fence... My feet landed on the ground with a loud thud. I was safe from the chickens. I sighed with relief (inside, however, I was anxious of the punishment I would receive from Miss C for collecting one egg. "Joey," Miss C barked from across the lawn, "where are the eggs." Her eyes travelled across my egg and poo covered face, down my weak arms, which were wearing a white t-shirt that was now as dirty as a toddler's shirt that hadn't been washed for 4 years, and onto my hands. I walked towards her when suddenly, I fumbled and tripped. The egg flew out of my hand and splatted across Miss C's face. Her face turned as red as a ripe tomato about to burst. She screamed and stormed off towards the rest of the class who were now all giggling amongst each other. I wiped my sweaty hands across my putrid-smelling face. My heart lifted. No more Miss C or should I say her real name; Miss