It’s been said that if you have a green thumb you are a good gardener. This has a quite different meaning if your thumb is actually green and people call you the Wicked Witch of the West.

Her actual name is Zinnia and she was born that way. No explanation that she knows of, though her mother would say differently if you could get it out of her.

Zinnia drags herself to school every day with a glove on her left hand hiding what everyone already knows is beneath the stitches. Fourth grade isn’t supposed to be this hard, except for the fact that an old target is on Zinnia’s back the moment she enters the education prison.

Walking down the hall two fifth grade girls glance her way and she looks down “Hey who has two thumbs and only one is normal?” one says.

“Oh I don’t know, who?” the other exaggerates.

“Wicked Witch of the West, do you know?”  the girls’ laughs cut through the shared air.

With her head down and deep brown eyes probing the floor she whimpers, “It’s Zinnia” only audible to herself.

Zinnia cringes as she steps through the doorway from one torture to the next.

“Get out of the way glove hand!” a classmate that is supposed to be her friend pushes her back to the wall.

Again under her breath, she chants, “Ignore them today is a good day, ignore them today is a good day, ignore them…today…t-todays going to be a bad day.”

Across her classroom assembled in one long row sits garden pots. Today is the day the gardening unit begins. Today is the day no one will be distracted as the target on Zinnia’s back grows bigger. Today is the day the worst wave of bullying commences.

“Everyone gather around the windows please. Be careful not to break the pots.” Mr. C beckons.

This is it, Zinnia drags her feet across the carpet and takes her place against the wall in the back of the group. Where you can almost see her outline.

Mr. C looks around the group noticing Zinnia, but leaves her alone, “Today is the first day of our gardening unit. Can anyone tell me what it takes to be a good gardener?”

“Having a green thumb” one of them mumbles making them all giggle like a pack of hyenas. Zinnia slouches lower on the wall trying to hide.

“Jordan that’s enough, Lexie how about you?” Mr. C asks, taking a quick glance in Zinnia’s direction after chiding Jordan with a nasty scowl.

Lexie goes on proudly speaking about proper care sharing her mother’s story as a gardener. Zinnia doesn’t pay attention though, as she tries to stay as invisible as possible.

“Okay good, thank's Lexie. Now can I have some volunteers to plant the seeds in the dirt.”

Hands shoot up and kids jump in order to be called on.

This is good, Zinnia thinks, He will call on one of them and leave me to myself.

“Zinnia, how about you?”

Her stomach drops, Are you kidding me! She screams in her head.

Everyone turns toward her and her eyes become circles.

Stay calm, stay calm. Zinnia tries to open her mouth, but nothing comes out. So she just slides down the wall the rest of the way and hides behind her propped up knees.

“Alright, how about Grace and Owen.” Mr. C says.

The kids refocus on him as Grace and Owen step in front of the class and Zinnia debates if she should stand, or try to blend into the wall like a chameleon the rest of the way.

“Here are the seeds, now Owen you take your thumb and make a hole. Grace, you take the seeds and put them in the hole Owen makes.”

Both kids follow Mr. C’s directions as Zinnia finally persuades herself to get up to watch. Mr. C happily brings her up to the front. Still tense, she watches as one by one the first few pots are seeded.

Then, out of nowhere, “Zinnia has a green thumb why doesn’t she do it?”

Embarrassment changes to anger and swells inside her till she is almost shaking. “You know what? Fine, I will!” Not being able to take it anymore Zinnia holds up her gloved hand and takes it off by one finger, flinging it across the room in the process.

For the first time in a long time, the unnatural thumb is exposed. Zinnia raised as if she were holding the Olympic torch. Then in one swift motion, she turns the thumb down toward the pot with no seed in it yet and jabs her thumb in the dirt.

Upon removing it from the dirt she yells, “See nothing happe-!” Before the statement was kaput, a fully grown, healthy zinnia flower sprouted from the originally not seeded pot. The class, astonished, drop their mouths and widen their eyes till they wouldn't open any further. Zinnia just smiles.