𝙊𝙉𝙀 𝙒𝙄𝙇𝘿 𝙉𝙄𝙂𝙃𝙏

Letter of Recommendation

[Authors Note: I decided to try out a spark of inspiration and dip my toes into different types of genres that I don't normally do. If you like what you are reading, please vote or leave a comment with any kind of criticism! Thank you for checking this story out! ^^ ]

The sound of ticking cogs of the clock filled the silence of the classroom. Students, human and anthro alike, stared at the classroom clock as the thin red handle made its way around. The atmosphere of sheer anticipation of the classroom was so dense that it could practically be sliced through. The last official day for all the seniors to attend school of their own free will had finally arrived; the final moments gradually ticking away.

Francis sat in his seat in silence with his head propped up against the palm of his hand as he stared down at his desk, gently tapping the eraser of his pencil on the polished wood. He lets out a gentle sigh through his nostrils, his mind completely drawing a blank from boredom. He then glanced up to the clock that hung above the chalkboard at the front of the class, noticing as the thin red handle reached the low six marker, the big hand creeping towards the twelve, and the little hand hovered over the three. The sound of students fidgeting in their desks had struck Francis' ears, causing him to turn his gaze around to his fellow classmates. He watched as they all leaned forward in their seats, grabbing ahold of their bookbags, and slowly sliding them onto their selves as they all continued to stare up at the clock. Francis rolled his eyes and looked back down at his desk, continuing to gently tap his eraser.

The sound of the rustling fabric draws the attention of the teacher of the class. Bringing his head up from his newspaper, he noticed as his students watched the clock in sheer anticipation. He took a quick glance to his watch and lets out a soft sigh, leaning back in his chair.

"Oh, for heaven's sake. You all can just go ahead and leave. Have a nice life." He says, rubbing his forehead with his fingers before bringing his paper back up to his face.

Suddenly, the students of the classroom erupt from their seats, cheering and conversing amongst themselves as they all begun to shuffle out of the classroom. Francis looked up from his desk at his fellow classmates, watching as they passed by him for he did not want to be caught in the middle of the mob. As the horde passed by him, he had noticed quite a few of his classmates gazing to him, giggling or softly gossiping amongst themselves. Francis was put off by the attention, but after getting used to the unexplained attention he oddly found himself obtaining after several months, he simply shrugged it off and gazed back down at his desk. Just moments after the herd of students had cleared, the school bell finally rang, signaling the official end of the day.

Francis then rises from his seat and reaches for his backpack that rested over the back of his chair before slipping it on himself. He then stuffs his hands into his bomber jacket pockets, beginning to leave the classroom himself. The squeak of his sneakers against the tile floor echo through the classroom, causing the teacher to once again to bring his attention away from his newspaper.

"Ah, Mr. Miller. You are still here." The teacher says, slowly beginning to fold his newspaper back up in front of him.

Francis stops in his tracks just as he held open the classroom door in front of him. "Ah... yeah. I didn't want to get caught up in that stampede." He says, turning his gaze back around to his teacher.

The teacher smiles. "It's a good thing that you didn't. I actually wanted to talk to you before you left my class for good." He says, leaning forward in his chair and places his hands over each other on his desk.

Francis was caught off guard. His teacher smiled to him, so he didn't suspect he was in trouble. But he didn't expect to have private word with his teacher on the very last day of school. Regardless, Francis begins to stroll back through the classroom and over to his teacher's desk.

"What did you want to talk about, Mr. Harrison?" Francis asks, standing at the front of the desk.

Mr. Harrison takes off his glasses and folds them before looking up to Francis. "I've seen a lot of different kinds of students come into my class. Rowdy kids, slackers, snooty kids, and even those brown nosers who try to suck up to me to get a good grade." He replies, rolling his eyes.

Francis lets out a soft chuckle, listening to his teacher speak.

"But in all my years, I've never seen a student who was so gifted but hesitates to show it in front of his own peers."

Francis adverts his gaze from his teacher, the sound of the bustling hallways filling the silence between them. He always felt somewhat embarrassed whenever Mr. Harrison called upon him in class to answer questions, feeling awkward whenever he felt the stare of his fellow classmates in those moments.

Mr. Harrison lets out a sigh before reaching down to a compartment of his desk. "What I'm getting at, Mr. Miller, is that I believe you have a lot of potential in the field of study I lecture in this classroom, unlike the countless students who couldn't care less about it." He says, removing an envelope from his desk.

Francis turned his gaze back to his teacher, raising an eyebrow at the envelope. Mr. Harrison sets the envelope on the top of his desk and slides it over towards Francis.

Francis gazes down at the letter, reading the address labeled on the front of the envelope.

"Is this...?" Francis asks, slowly picking up the envelope with wide eyes.

Mr. Harrison smiles. "It's a letter of recommendation to the university in the Central Capitol. Send it along with an application. I look at you and see a very bright future. And with that letter and your grades, I'm more than sure you'd excel there."

Francis was at a loss for words. He simply stared down at the envelope in a trance.

"I...I..." Francis mutters, looking up from the envelope and to the teacher who sat in front of him.

Mr. Harrison raises his hand, holding out his palm in front towards Francis. "No need, Francis. Just leave my classroom today and seize the opportunities that are lied out before you." He says, turning his hand and holds it out in front of him.

Francis smiles warmly to his teacher, shaking his hand. "Thank you for everything, Mr. Harrison."

Mr. Harrison smiles. "Please, call me Stanford. No need for formalities anymore."

Francis chuckles, releasing his hand and begins to hastily exit the classroom, clutching the envelope tightly.