The Murder, the Why, and the How

1∫ Asa Tamyra

I came into this world to pass things on. I believe that more then anything. I pass my knowledge of drama on to my students, I passed my virginity on to my daughter, and I passed my alcoholism to my sister.

Not all things that are passed on are good.

My name is Asa Tamyra and I have a story to tell you. 

It started in the Fall of 2015, my fourth year of teaching my course by the name of Studio Theatre, and I had taken on ten acting prodegies. It was the first day of class, the most ridiculous perhaps, because of the sole factor of Carla's clumsiness. 

She walked right in to class (three minutes early, I might add) and sat down in one of the ten chairs I'd set up in a circle. She missed the chair and sat in between two of the chairs before falling to the floor, laughing and looking absolutely embarrased at the same time.

I was not amused. 

"My name is Ms. Tamyra, and if you haven't noticed, you are three minutes early. No one's here."

I was pissed.

She just sat there, staring at me with huge, ugly green eyes. 

"Are you going to pick yourself up or am I going to have to carry you?" I asked her, quite sincerely.

"Sorry, Ms. Tamyra," she said sheepishly. 

I looked over at my list of names. "You must be Carla," I said.

"Pleasure to meet you, your majesty," she said.

Now I was extremely pissed.

"That attitude isn't going to get your flat little ass anywhere, young miss," I snapped.

She was so shocked that if I hadn't been standing there, that flat little ass might've jumped right out of her unflattering jumper. 

"I don't know why Males gave me you," I said. Males was the man I hired to regulate auditions because I hated doing it.

Before she could say anything, the nine other students walked in (on time) and sat down in the chairs. Without binders.

"Where are your binders?" I asked them. "And highliters and pencils and all the stuff on the damn school supply list? Did you think I was going to provide them? God, I might have to fire Males if this is the crap he drags off the streets and throws on my doorstep."

They just sat there. It was going to be a long year.

"What the hell are you doing?" I nearly screamed. "Go out right now and get binders, pencils, and highliters. There's a Staples down the street if you need to buy them."

There was no movement.

"Go!" I screamed.

And then I saw him. A boy, blonde curly hair, brown eyes, and the ugliest smile I'd ever seen. I knew he was going to be the best. I didn't know it would cost him his life.