Orange Sherbet and Jessica Rabbit

by caccy46

Everyone has been laughing at me my whole life - that's right; my entire life: nine years - and that's pretty bad. Who could have been so stupid to make up a name that kids could laugh at or make funny faces about or even nibbly sounds or wiggle their butts in my face. Okay, the Jessica part is not so bad - but Rabbit - that's right, I said Rabbit - the name of a stupid, little animal, with big ears and a bushy tail that wiggles its nose and eats carrots - RABBIT - an animal, not a person; that's my name, Jessica Rabbit - I could just die. We had to wear name tags on the first day of summer camp this year, and I was laughed at all morning while my group made hilarious comments about my name, some sticking their hands on top of their heads and flopping them up and down like big ears. After bursting into sobs that took my breath away and made me a snotty, red-faced, blubbering mess, my counselor put her arm around me and led me to the snack bar, sat me down at a table and brought me an orange sherbet; so there, in my swimsuit with the sun pounding on my back, soothing my heaving chest, the tangy orange sherbet melted on my tongue and burned the roof of my mouth as it dribbled down my chin to my chest, leaving sticky orange stains on my skin and swimsuit; my counselor told me that I was actually lucky to have such an unusual name - it made me unforgettable - and, someday, I would learn to treasure it. Well, I hope she's right - I think of what she told me every time I eat orange sherbet, and who knows, someday maybe I'll like my name, like when I'm 11 or 12.

6S - C2

caccy46 is the author of Ashes to Ashes.