Art Teacher Changed Pessimist

Chapter 1

Emmie Bouvier's Diary

DEAR DIARY,
The sunshade of the bloody year has arrived, a sigh of tedious and disappointment came over to me. I knew that life was boring and unpleasant to live in. Maybe it's for me, but not anyone else who have those miracles. Lucks and bright life they have. I, however, was the most boring person you could possibly encounter. I don't talk to people, neither my friends...Wait...I have no friends...Better luck, I have nobody but myself and you, diary. Even though, I have parents. Doesn't mean they do their roll as parents. Well, yeah they give me free education, free food, free room, free house to live in. Not to mention they also made me. But the one i'm talking about that involves the word "Love" is not in my vocabulary for them. Neither my two twin sisters. Two years older than me and both are seniors. Emily Bouvier and Lenisa Bouvier they are...They're just like two cats always fighting. Having utterly different personalities but always chat a lot. I mean a lot. My sisters only regard me as the sister who is at present but somewhat, I was some kind of invisible sister that doesn't exist for them. I was there the whole time in the family......but frequently I get ignored most of the times and they act like I wasn't ever there. Yes, me and my life. Now I am on my way to the school bus. A freshman, anti-social, boring, stoic and what's the word? Yes...loser...That put together didn't it?
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My bus arrived, just got in with my backpack. Didn't say a greeting or even physical contact with the bus driver. Just went straight in like that. Yeah, that's why I've heard people ridicule me or taunt me sometimes. They just assume that I'm being rude. When actually, these lips are sealed and shut for no fucking reason. I can't even greet a person or lend them a smile unless they do that to me...What a pussy I am.
My two sisters here are already in the bus. They got in like freaking cats who are having a race. They are sitting next beside each other, of course. How easy they could choose while I am here, standing on the aisle, having a hard time to pick which seat I should sit. The backseats are my favorite. But people goes there a lot. And I hate crowds and noise. Front seats are like a sign for younger children. Kindergarten, I suppose. Middle seats. Whatever, middle seat I should sit. Oh, why even bother?
Sitting I was, the whole ride thing was completely boring.
Skipping the bus riding part, bell rang immediately when I came. I knew the start that I'll be late in first day. First day is always lost day. Memorizing schedules and finding new classrooms are complicated. It's like an adventure, but yet I'm not an explorer. I am not the type of person who gets easily curious. Runs into the wilderness and get caught by some stuck up monster. What am I even talking about?
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Okay, I just got home from school. Shall I tell the whole story? Yeah, I should. First of all was Mrs. Callie my math teacher. YADA YADA YADA. Blah blah blah. Algebra Algebra Algebra. Expression Expression Expression. You got it. My expression of algebra is fucked. I learned mostly about my math teacher rather than the subject itself that she was teaching. Her voice is like some sort of woman who just got back from the dead. Croaky voice and old voice of a woman that's slow. And I hate people who talks so slow like me. Mr. Neyson, however, my english teacher was kind of off. What I mean by that is that...uhh...he's weird. Reminds me of a man that's a pervert and pedophile. No kiddin'. In recess and lunch he always stares at people in the hallway. Creepy like way. Mostly he stares at the girls. I got rid of it and trying to avoid being near at him. I was the only one aware. When no one is. Probably they know but didn't care. Mr. Neyson has white ruffled hair all over his head. A bushy mustache that he never chopped off. He did once last year when I was in eighth grade, but he looked like he had ripped it off instead of shaving it. Either way, his mustache looks fine at least. About the next class wasn't really much. Art. No big of a deal. I also came late in art class which sucks cause' today I was late. I was late two times in the first day. I am a "first day sucker" somehow.
"What's your name, miss?" Asked my art teacher with twinkly eyes that were silver, I believe. His eyes just reminds me of an evening star.

"Emmie Bouvier" I told in almost a hoarse voice.

"Take your seat. You're late" He said in a stern voice, somehow. I don't know why coming late for two minutes in class is a big deal. Somehow it is for some people.
Taking my seat, the art teacher introduces himself to the students.
"If you folks don't know my name, I am Mr. Evan. I'll be your art teacher in ninth grade. Believe it or not I am Canadian"

Wow. Such a straightforward introduction of showing your identity. But of course, he should be cause' he is the teacher. Looking at his face, and observing him throughout the whole class time, I was surprised if he would ever be called "Mr."
I expect that he is around twenties or even eighteen! Could be. He looks like it. Not bad for a face. Fine looking young man and I know the senior girls are going to be stunned about it. Cause he is a new teacher. I'm sorry. Art teacher.
Later, he wrote on the board using the chalk with a big letter saying, ART on it.
"So tell me what does art means? Can anyone at least volunteer?"
No one in class raised their hands. That was a huge astonishment.
"Anyone?" No one.
A minute or so, he decided to pick one of us to answer instead. Old classic, I call it. He called one of my classmates in the class who is daydreaming. I don't wanna' say his name cause he isn't necessary in my diary. Not worth telling. When Mr. Evan told him to answer the question in front of the class, he just only said something like, "Spending time with paint, sculpturing, oils, pastel, sketching, and etc"
That was a plain boring answer. But he got to pass anyway.
"Humph" Commented Mr. Evan with a mutter doubt I could see in his eyes.
Reading people's eyes are easier out of all body parts. Huh...
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Bell rang after that, and I knew it was break time. Eating in the canteen is a total nightmare. I have no one to sit with and seeing my two older sisters who are part of the "Fame Senior Girls" made my day even worst. I saw a glimpse of the two sitting together with their friends and chattering, giggling, laughing, I could hear in my midget ears. They were already famous even in the first day of school. Lenisa was mostly getting the attention than Emily. Though, both were seating in the same table, I could see that Lenisa is getting the spotlight. I did mention that they both have utterly different personalities. Which is true they do. And yet, they still were the closest most loveable sisters in the world. They both have brown hair including Emily who have really nice brown hair and brown eyes. She is mostly a Tomboy in the family. Lenisa is the girlie. Emily loves sports while Lenisa hates sports. Lenisa loves shopping and Emily doesn't. She only shops for things that are really needed. But they both love talking.
I always thought if they can ever stop talking...
Mom and dad doesn't care that much. Even if Lenisa and Emily are always talking the whole time throughout dinner or breakfast. Seriously, I wish I'm the only daughter in the family. My dad doesn't speak that much and neither my mom. So I don't know how these two girls get to speak so long. I can already still hear them laughing and chattering in the canteen. Anyways, first day of school is almost over. I just have two more subjects left which is History and physical education. Argh! Now I am having a break. I'm in the toilet seat right now. Totally not weird. Psst. It's like the first day of school and it's sheer normal to be a lonesome. But I am always a weirdo. And that does not change who I am. Why can't my name just start with a letter "S". A meaning something like: I'm Silent, Stupid, full of Shame and I Suck. Rosemary said I look pretty. But I am never in the inside. Pretiness were pain in the ass nowadays. I'm sure I am a huge dissapointment in my family. I'm not smart like Lenisa...And I'm not athletic like Emily. That's why I'm easily sexually harassed because of my beauty. BELL RINGS! I have to go, See ya' later, Diary!

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Done with Chapter 1. Soon will be Chapter 2 next. If you like the first part. Just follow and click the star button. 😊