Who am I?

August 7, 2154

Dear diary,

            Today, something shocking and terrifying happened. I’m not even sure if it was real.

            After American History class, I voluntarily walked up to Mrs. Meyer’s desk. Something just compelled me to do it; told me to trust her, told me to forget my mother’s panic, told me that she was like me. I realized that as I took the long steps towards the desk. We were alike because we didn’t fit in. She was slightly too odd to be friends with the other teachers, and I slightly too odd to be friends with many of the other students.

It was fate that pulled me to the front of that room.

When I got there, she looked up and pretended to be surprised, but I could tell she knew I’d be back. She asked me how I was doing and I told her I was fine. After a minute, though, I couldn’t keep up the façade any longer. I broke down and told her about mom.

“Well, actually, my mom has been acting really weird lately…” “How so?” “She’s just… she’s freaking out over everything. I don’t know why. She’s always been fine with everything I do, never being overprotective or anything. But all of a sudden, ever since I checked out some dumb book from the library, she’s been freaking out about everything! I don’t know why!” She looked at me sympathetically. “A book, was it? Why would that worry her? You’re such a bookworm; I see you reading whenever you have spare time.” I nodded. “Yeah. But this wasn’t just a regular nonfiction book like I normally read. It was a…” I hesitated. Would she laugh at me for reading all nonfiction? Some of the kids used to, before they started ignoring me.

But then I remembered she was like me.

“It was a fiction book,” I confided. “Henry was teasing me over the summer, telling me I should get a book that wasn’t ‘nerdy’ from the library, so I decided to. I just grabbed a book off the science fiction shelf, thinking, ya know, Oh, it’s based on truth, it must be okay. But no. it’s some weird book about life on other planets. Ridiculous. Anyway, when Mom found out about it, she started freaking out! I don’t know why! Sure, it’s a change, but what’s wrong with that!? And ever since, she’s been acting very strange… asking about everything I do, as if I’m going to do something top-secret and horrible behind her back… oh, I don’t even know…”

When I finally paused, I expected her to say something. However, she just looked at me with an unreadable expression on her face. After a minute, though, she sighed. “I’m sorry, Sophia. I know regular parents can be hard to deal with, and they can be very overprotective at times. But, this is a special case for you. You’re… different.” “Different? How so?” But then suddenly, she covered her mouth with her hand. She looked at me with wide eyes and gestured to the door. I assumed this meant she wanted me to leave. But the only thing going through my mind was confusion. What had just happened? Why was I “different?”  But when I looked up from the floor to Mrs. Meyer, she didn’t meet my gaze. She was staring at her cell phone lying on her desk; her expression was a mixture of longing and fear. She pointed to the door again. In a voice slightly higher than the one she’d been using, she said, “I’m sorry, dear, I just realized that i, um, have a call to make… if you could just…” She gestured towards the door, and was reaching for her cell phone as I left.

I was halfway down the hallway when I realized I’d forgotten my pen at my desk. I walked back towards the classroom door, but paused just outside. I heard talking through the door.

I should have just turned around and gotten my pen later.

But of course, curiosity made me keep listening to her words.

She was already on the phone with the important person she was talking about, apparently. This is the side of the conversation I could understand.

“Hi, Angelica… well, it’s been – interesting… can you connect me to the Chief? … Thanks, dear… Hello, Chief… well, it isn’t going as well as I had hoped. I may have, ah, slipped up just now… no, no, no, nothing major… subject was just talking about some issues with her undesignated parents, and I told her she was ‘different’… yes, she asked what I meant… I didn’t tell her, of course. I said I had to make an important call. She’s very trusting, I’m sure she believed me… I’m sure she did… oh dear, how much sooner? … oh… yes, of course…I know, I’m so sorry… “ The conversation went on like this for a few more minutes, with the “chief” saying things and Mrs. Meyer apologizing and agreeing. It was really weird… why was she describing our conversation?

After a while, I got bored and couldn’t understand anything from the side of the conversation I heard, plus I was hungry, so I went down to the cafeteria. When I got there, Henry asked why I was so late. I tried to explain what I had just overheard while he listened silently and chewed his peanut butter sandwich pensively.

“So I was just talking to Mrs. Miller about Mom and how weird she’s been acting lately. When I finished, she told me it was because I was “different.” Then all of a sudden she started acting weird and told me she had to make a call. So I left to give her some privacy, then I realized I’d forgotten my pen. When I went back to get it, she was on the phone. And I listened, Henry, oh, I don’t know why, and I think she was talking about the conversation we’d just had! She was talking to some person she called ‘Chief,’ and she described our conversation pretty well, and she kept saying ‘subject’ and ‘she’ but she didn’t say any names. I had this weird feeling I was the one she was talking about. She also said something about something having to happen sooner… Henry, I don’t know what to do!”

By now, Henry looked really confused and rather scared. But since he was my best friend, he did exactly what he always does in a crisis; he covered his panic with logic and questions. “Did she know you were listening?” “Well, no. it was more like eavesdropping.” “You’re sure she was describing the conversation you’d just had with her?” “Well, she probably didn’t two really similar conversations in one day.” He was frowning by now; Henry almost always knows everything. It was strange for him to not be able to figure out why something happened. But then, this is a strange case, too. How often does one’s teacher make a call about them?

Henry kept asking questions and we tried to come up with an explanation all through lunch. It didn’t get us anywhere though.

Even two periods later in Spanish, we tried to come up with some more answer.

 These are the possible explanations we came up with:

    -Parents hired someone to watch over me since they don’t trust me all of a sudden

    -She had another similar conversation with someone else she was supposed to be looking out for during the day

    -I misheard her

But the problem is, none of the really even make sense! My mom was freaking out about Mrs. Meyer teaching me; if Mom had hired her, she wouldn’t freak out. I have superb hearing, so I know I didn’t mishear her. The explanation of her having a similar conversation twice in one day is the most logical one, and even that doesn’t make very much sense. Nonetheless, that’s the explanation we’re going with. What else is there to do?

So we’ll just make ourselves believe it had nothing to do with me.

I’m definitely not telling my mom about this, since she was so worried about Mrs. Meyer even looking at me. She would not want to know that I had voluntarily been talking to her, and especially that Mrs. Meyer had been making calls about me that sounded like they could have been about me.

I’ll just hope this blows over soon.

-Sophia