❝I'm trying, I really am. But, I feel so.. let down. It's like I'm falling, and there's no way to get back up.❞
Oceana Bloom, a writer and an artist, can't seem to put her pain into words and her sadness into art. It's not that everything hurts, but...
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School started a week ago, and things have felt the same. The same people. The same teachers. The same crowded hallways. Nothing really changes, everybody still looks at me in the same way. I'm just that girl that keeps her head down and her smile to herself. People walk by and they don't see anything they like.
However, my schedule was a bit different this year, math was my first period and science was my fifth. Usually, it was the other way around. Also, I decided to choose art as my elective, making Mrs. Amber Roselle Harp my teacher for my elective. It was the first time that I chose something that wasn't writing and journalism. I was a writer, I've always been one. But, art isn't that bad and I wanted to give it a try. Mrs. Harp was a sweet person and an even nicer teacher. Everybody loved her, and I did too.
After hours of lectures and work, 7th period came along, which meant it was time for our electives. Loosely tying my soft, brown hair into a bun, I stepped into the classroom, and I was pleasantly surprised. There were canvases that filled her room, waiting to be painted on. The paints and paintbrushes lay still waiting to be used. And, the aroma of vanilla filled her room, making everything a little bit better.
"Hi, my name is Mrs. Harp! Please take a seat anywhere you'd like," She said, giving everyone a warm smile, which lit up the room and the people around her. A couple of minutes later, people started to settle in. I sat down near a window in the back of the class, and I waited. Staring out of the window, I was completely captivated by the sight in front of me. It was late in the summer, but the sun still gave a warm glow, and the grass swayed rhythmically to the sound of the wind. It felt so peaceful and still.
"Is this seat taken?" His voice cut through my thoughts. I looked next to me, averting my gaze from the window, and I saw him standing there. It was a guy in my 4th period, I think his name was Cameron. Dark, brown eyes and a soft smile, with messy black hair that made him seem ordinary. But, he was nothing of the sort. Intelligent, kind, and funny, he was nowhere near ordinary. But, I was.
I hesitated, nobody really spoke to me, and talking to someone felt weird. My voice came out hoarse, but it was there. "N-no, it's not. Feel f-free to sit there."
"Cool, thanks. You look familiar by the way, I think I have you in Spanish..?" He questioned, and his eyes sparkled a bit.
Stammering, as I tried to find the right words, I gave him a smile. "No, we're in F-French together. You do Spanish-h too?" He noticed my smile and returned it, letting his lips curve into a grin that might've melted my heart. Just a little.
"Ohh. Riiight, French, not Spanish. I knew that." And, there was that stupid smile again. Stop smiling .. you're making me feel stupid, Cameron!
But, before our conversation progressed, my attention went on to the teacher, right when she started speaking. "Alright guys, settle down please." People shifted their attention to her. She was hard to ignore. Mrs. Harp had a slender figure and had dark hair cascading down her shoulders. Her eyes sparkled with a dark blue, which could easily be mistaken for brown. And, her smile was bright and real, and her words flowed easily as if she's been a teacher forever. But, she wasn't.
She joined our high school a couple of years ago, back when I was a freshman. Many people at first didn't like her, "too sweet" they said, claiming she was too good to be true. They were cold and harsh to her, dismissing whatever she said. And, I knew how it felt to be ignored and resented. So, when I first met her, I couldn't help but smile, wishing I could help her. She returned my smile, grateful that some people were different.
That's when a friendship began.
It's stupid to think you could be friends with a teacher, but she was nice to me and I was nice to her. It was a friendship that started with a smile.
I went to her class every day during lunch, and we filled her classroom with conversations, good food, and lots of laughs. And, as people got to see how real she was, others became friends with her too. People started to like her, how could they not? Funny, beautiful, and smart ... she was everything that you look for in a person, more specifically a friend. But, during my sophomore year, we spoke less due to me not being in her class anymore. My classes got boring and my lunchtimes felt empty. But, it was okay, I got through it. And, thankfully enough, I got to be in one of her classes this year, my junior year. So, this year it felt like a reunion, sort of.
"Welcome to your elective, Art with Mrs. Harp. Oh, that rhymes .. I didn't realize that. Hopefully, many of you are excited, because we're going to have a wonderful time this semester!"
I hope so. I'm in need of a wonderful time, it's been 11 years overdue.
