As she marched down the familiar hallways, she found whom she was looking for. “Hey, Mrs. Evered,” she called. The teacher turned her burgundy hair to reveal a taught face on a uniform dress whose only issue was a wrinkle on the bottom left. “Hey…” Mrs. Evered tried to echo, being cut off by the rumbling shifts of the school’s heating system. “Did you finish your history project?” She nagged her as she tried to jam the key into the door of her classroom on the first try.
“I always wanted you to take me to the ballet.” Oliver saw the look of shock on his father’s face. “Mrs. Rat is the ballet teacher and she said that I should take every opportunity perform when she offered me the job of playing the piano in her show.”
I apologise as much as I can before running of to my new classroom embarrassed. Now not caring what my class will say, all I care about and can think of is that girl. ‘Who is she?’ ‘What’s her name?’ I just want to meet her again, say sorry for running into her, and make sure she’s not angry and annoyed at me. As I reach the door of my new classroom, I peer through the glass, see the teacher writing something on the board, the children all in lines at their desks. I take one last look, take a big, deep breath and reach for the handle.
Her face hot with embarrassment and fear, she quickly ran out of the apartment making strange squeaking noises as she left. A minute later she returned with a nurse of some sort who informed me about how I needed to discuss my behavior. After a long day of being moved from one office to another I finally ended up across from the dean of the school. She explained how she felt as though my parents should be informed of the situation and asked that I call them with her. She handed me the phone adjacent to her desk waiting calmly as I dialed home.
I knew that my dad drove his motorcycle today, but again I brushed it of thinking there was no way that could be him. But as the bell rung the teacher told us told open our books and read, but as I started to read whole people kept talking the door opened and the principle stepped in the room. Just her present left me in a cold chill run all across my body. Everybody got quiet. It was as if you could hear a needle being dropped on the floor, because we all knew what she about to say.”Mrs.Trad can we see Isaiah Thomas with his backpack” She said as if a cat had here tongue, as if she was the one someone opened my heart and ripped a chunk of it with their bare hands, as if something went terribly wrong.
The day I lost my class spelling bee in seventh grade was the day my life changed in ways I never thought would happen. Fourth grade up until that time, I had made it to the Regional Spelling Bee at UMES every year in March where if I won, then I would venture to Washington D.C. to compete in the Scripps National Spelling Bee in May. Studying with my mom had become a paramount part of my life while preparing, and all I had experienced was success until that day. It was sometime in mid-January 2016, and I had just arrived back home from the Philippines. I believed I was ready, but of course I still felt nervous, so when my English teacher, Mrs. Phillips, announced we were having our class spelling bee, I started shaking.
I turn around and look at the school and my heart started pounding really fast. I felt like a little bug inside a mansion, the school was enormous. I took a deep breath and walked into the entrance of the school. I pulled out my schedule and headed to my first class. As I was looking for my first class I got lost and couldn’t find it so I stopped by a random teacher’s room and asked her to direct me.
Luckily I recognized someone who I now believe to be the librarian at our school in another office. She granted my request to use the phone, but after the irritating time I’d been having, I just asked my mom to come pick me up. After this I returned to my ‘Friend’ and explained that I was leaving. Once more I was unacknowledged. I threw a fit, running into a bedroom, screeching and sobbing until my mom arrived.
Pat runs up from the basement and reminds me I have to take him to guitar practice now or he'll be late. Maura bounces down the steps, pokes her finger in my ribs and shouts, "I need help with my Algebra but give me the keys 'cause I have to run to school to get my history book and Mom says give Meghan a bath before you put her to bed and have the kitchen looking as nice as it did when she left, which was spotless." I won't tell you how I reacted that evening. As married-with-children typically means both partners are working, the need to cope with such situations has become a daily necessity. For you fathers, who haven't acquired the natural mothering instincts, here are some pointers I've learned the hard way to ease the pressures of work and family: Don't think that by ignoring the family they'll go away.
I wake up in the hospital to my parents pretending to be worried. I look at them and silently ask what they’re going to do to me when we get home, they just look at me in shame. The doctor walks in and tells me I’ll be okay, m... ... middle of paper ... ...g down her back. I see the pain in her eyes. She was such a beautiful girl, as I get to the end of her speech I call this Davids kids mom and ask her to bring her son over, when they arrive the police are removing my daughter's lifeless body from the house I invite them in and show them the video, by the time she stabs herself David is staring at the ground.