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Laura
Laura hated, and I mean hated Algebra. it was like someone purposely had created an alien language in the form of equations to taunt humanity, to spite us. I mean is algebra going to save my life? If anything it would probably end it.
Anything even remotely related to Mathematics was not my forte, music on the other hand, well let's just say that I didn't absolutely suck at that.
I sighed as Mr Migibin began his review of last nights homework, although to be truthful I really wasn't paying attention, mostly because I hadn't completed the work albeit I did try.
"Laura". I heard Migibin call. I winced as I slowly lifted my head off of the desk, glaring at him as I begrudgingly met his frown.
"I don't expect the students in my class to sleep, or glare at me while I teach." He said walking to my desk.
"I'm trying to help you strengthen your mind". He exclaimed hopefully.
"Mr Migibin, with all due respect, equations will not strengthen my mind, if anything they'll further push me into a depressive state, and if droning on about homework that most of the class probably hasn't done, is your version of teaching, then I suggest you re-evaluate your teaching strategies".
I smiled as his face turned red and the class laughed.
Hey, I wasn't trying to be mean I was simply telling the truth.
Before he could lecture me and probably give me detention, the bell rung, signaling the end of third period. I smiled. I raced out of that gaudy classroom like my ass was on fire.
As you could tell Algebra was not my favorite subject, far from it actually.
Then again St.Bernard High School wasn't exactly my favorite place either. I mean who would like a place filled with so much knock off perfume that everyone became senseless zombies by the end of their four years?
Not this girl, all I wanted to do was graduate, graduate and attend my dream University; Juilliard, that is if I get in.
Juilliard has been a dream of mine since I was 5 years old. My dad's favorite thing in the world was the cello which is probably why I loved it so much. He used to say he could hear the angels sing while I played. Although I didn't know how that was possible because when I first started playing a little after my fifth birthday the only sound that came out of my cello was the sound of a dying walrus.
If you dont know what that would sound like, one night at my recital would fix that, trust me you would never forget it.
But to my credit over the years Ive gotten much better. So good to the point where people say I'm a "prodigy" or "genius", but the truth is I just worked really really hard.
Especially, after my parents died.
But I'll spare you my typical sob story of how a young girl was orphaned at 6 years old from a brutal car accident between a transport truck and my parents Sudan.
I didn't know the power of alcohol when I was younger, so when it became publicized that he was 'drunk' I couldn't put the pieces together until 6 years later. At 12 I vowed never to drink, and that's true to this day.
Besides there more than one way to have reckless fun. It's called cocaine.
Just kidding.
Anyways I was raised by my aunt Rachel after that, I lived with her and her 4 year old daughter Haley, who was louder than any child I'd ever encountered in my entire life. But I never complained, they were family.
