𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝙱𝚘𝚢 𝙽𝚎𝚡𝚝 𝙳𝚘𝚘𝚛

11

Imani

Ms.Backster walked around the classroom handing out papers from our last test. I didn't want to look at mine, already knowing it was going to be something lower than a C. School wasn't important to me. Nothing was. I just felt it unnecessary. Especially since I didn't have anything I wanted to do yet.

Not like my mother would care. She's to busy drowning in her days of sorrows and prayers. She acted as if I was a burden most of the time and I felt that if she didn't care about me, why should I care about myself. Like I thought though — Ms. backster passed me a paper with a big fat 'F' on it and a note saying "See me after class."

It was my third period class. Destiny wasn't here and I was thankful for it. I didn't need her breathing down my neck about this either.

I swear she acted like someone's mother and not another teenage friend. The corners of my mouth lifted just thinking about what she'd say to me this time.

"You won't graduate Imani! It's not a joke!" She'd say. "We have to walk the stage together!"

Destiny was a good friend. She spoke her mind and never pushed or pressured you into anything you don't want to do. She could be loud and goofy at times, but she had her head on straight.

As the bell rang and everyone packed up to head to lunch, I sat at my desk, waiting to be alone with the teacher. When everyone cleared out, I grabbed my things and walked to her desk. "You wanted to see me Ms.Backster?" She typed away on her computer before holding up one finger to indicate she needed a moment.

I plopped down in an empty desk that was right I front of hers. It took her a few minutes before she turned to speak with me.  "Ms. Jones you are dangerously close to failing my class. Need I remind you, you need english to graduate." Stiffly, I just nod my head. I already knew what this talk would be about, but everything she was saying was kind of just, floating around in my head. I wasn't really receiving what she was giving.

"Unfortunately I'm going to have to ask you to have your mother sign this. So she knows that you are in danger of failing." The words left her lips quickly and she passed me a paper for my mom to sign. "She's not gonna sign it." I told her in all honesty. My mother wouldn't give two shits about me failing.

She'll yell of course, might even slap me, but she'll forget to sign the papers as soon as her rage is over. Me trying to get her to sign the papers will only cause the rage to start all over again. "Why not Imani?"

I shrugged. Obviously I wouldn't go into detail about what goes on in my household, but I wouldn't lie about it either. "She just won't." I said again, staring at her blankly. With a huff, she took off her reading glasses and conjoined her hands in front of her on the top of her desk.

She looked at the door, making sure that no one was coming in. "Look, I know last year wasn't a great one for you –" she started making me sit up even more straight in my seat, but I cut her off before she could speak any more. "You know nothing."

"You're right." She paused. "I don't know anything, but please know that I am not trying to offend you."

"Well you are. You don't know anything about how I feel or how my year went." My eyes started to flood just as if the rain would flood a hole in the ground. Like a puddle. She would never know the pain of seeing what I did. What I endure everyday at home. Even what I endure within myself. How could she possibly start our conversation like this. Knowing what I've been subjected too.

Did all the teachers know?

Of course they did. Teachers gossip amongst themselves all the time. Probably worse than any high school student.