Different

Chapter 6

~ERIN'S POV
I watched him saunter to the front of the room. He made me so happy, with his sweet smile and kind heart. He turned around the face the class and I watched his chest puff out, then back in with a deep breath. Before he began, he looked at me. He looked at me with those kind blue-green eyes, I felt his love and gentleness with every blink. He began his recitation. His voice traveled around the whole classroom, putting everyone into complete awe. We all knew he was a brilliant and eloquent speaker. His soft, deep voice brought silence to the room. Even Ms. Hayes was silent and attentive. With every word Taron spoke, my heart melted. He was perfect. In every way. As he came to the last line of the poem he was reciting, the room was silent. I looked around at everyone. They were in tears. I felt my heart sink. He moved them, I had know idea he was this amazing. I was the first to begin the clapping, then the other students joined in. Ms. Hayes stood up from her desk and wiped a tear from her face. Taron just stood there smiling brightly, and then he came back to his seat, without speaking. I sat down with him and just looked at him. "Taron." I began in a whisper voice. "That. Was incredible. You're incredible." Taron turned to face me. "You really think so?" I chuckled. "I know so." Taron placed his hand gently on mine, and the rush of electricity​ flowed through me body. Ms. Hayes stood up. "Alright," she came around to the front of her desk, "Erin, you're next". My heart began to beat uncontrollably. I always have gotten nervous doing this sort of stuff, but my one goal was to focus and do my absolute best. I nervously stood up and Taron grabbed my hand. I turned back around to face him. "Good luck." He squeezed my hand gently, then let go. I blushed and a smile emerged on my face. I turned back around to walk to the front of the classroom. "You can do this. Just focus." I spoke softly to myself before I began my poem. Edgar Alan Poe's Annabelle Lee, one of my favorites. I breathed in, and began in a strong, but soft tone. Poe was a mysterious writer, and that's what I like most about him. His hidden secrets and strange thoughts intrigue me, somehow I feel as if I relate to him. "A wind blew out of a cloud, chilling. My beautiful Annabel Lee." I ended with a slight humm to my voice. As my voice trailed off in the classroom, a few seconds were left silent. Just me, and the murmuring air vents above me. There was some sniffling, from Ms. Hayes and the other students. *RING*