A friendly conversation was about to start when the class’s form teacher stepped in. The class fell silent and began to arise with murmurs as the geeky-spectacled lady trotted on her four-inch high stilettos to the teachers table.
Clad in a soft blue green chiffon dress, she wore dream catcher earrings, which seemed so heavy they were about to fall off. Her long chestnut brown hair was neatly plaited into a fishtail braid, which ended around her mid-back, with a hair tie adorned with a pinkish-white lily. Her left index finger wore an owl ring and around her neck hung a thin silver chain, with a simple silver ring looped through – definitely a weird teacher indeed.
After settling herself down, the lady looked around the class and cleared her throat. Silence bestowed upon the classroom once again.
“I’m sure you know that I am your form teacher for your first year here and you should know that discipline is of high regard here in Dreamsworth Junior College. I could hear your chatters before I even stepped in! Class, try to talk softer!” She spoke, in a high-pitched voice. It seemed almost chirpy.
Hilary gazed into space as her form teacher rattled on and on about discipline. Rosaline tried to nudge her but failed.
“OH YES!” her form teacher’s sudden booming voice dragged Hilary back into reality.
“How could I forget to introduce myself?” The teacher squealed. “I’m Miss Welsie Parme! It’s p-a-r-m-e, not p-a-l-m. Call me Miss Welsie if you should.”
Everyone barely moved. Hilary raised a brow and Rosaline slightly widened her eyes.
Her voice seemed to trail off into the distance. Speechless.
YOU ARE READING
Don't Be Afraid
Teen FictionThe journey of a 17-year-old teen-adult who discovers the hurt and painful reality. Take a step into reality, and look out, far into the distance.
