Re-meeting Miss. Allan

Chapter One

Skyler's POV

4 years ago

I walked through the halls of my quite large high school. I went to a catholic school. Yes, with the uniforms and everything. I hated it, my mom seemed to think that catholic schools were better than public schools which honestly wasn't the case in my opinion. I wasn't even religious either so it's stupid that I even had to go to a catholic school. I'm in my second semester of grade 11 and the only good thing to ever have occurred was having a hot English teacher. Miss Allan. Yes, I'm a lesbian, what can I say? Girls are stunning. Miss Allan was perfect, she had beautiful, long brown hair, gorgeous blue eyes that you could swear sometimes shined in the sunlight, and not to mention a killer body, as well as the sweetest smile. I, for one, am a sucker for a girl with a cute smile. Or, I guess an actual woman. That would qualify now.

I was the awkward, shy girl, who secretly had a shit ton going on, and not so innocent as everyone thinks. I have no friends here at school, sure I'm not brutally bullied like I was all through grade school, but I don't have friends either and I'm not an idiot like people seem to think when they whisper off to the distance, or even when I just get that feeling. That feeling was the worst. When you know you're being made fun of or getting talked about in a negative way. 

So, here I am... 17 years of age, addicted to smoking cigarettes since the age of 14 and devastatingly depressed and starting to hate people along with the world we live in. I used to be okay. I used to see the world in a brighter light. I was so positive thinking there was good in the world, but I was so wrong. Oh, how I was wrong. Oh, how I was naïve.

The only thing that brightens up my day is; as sad as it seems, Miss. Allan. The way happiness erupted all over every feature when she would teach English, the genuine happiness, as well as the genuine care she showed her students was like a breath of fresh air. It was rare to see that now a days, and it was refreshing. And before you make assumptions, no, I don't have a crush on her, yes, I thought she was beautiful and a rare personality with her genuine caring and passion. Although, I did not have a crush on this woman. Many boys in her class made inappropriate comments. Not to her face, of course, she was young so of course they would fawn over her. It was so immature, eye rolling worthy at that. Sure, I've checked her out, but I wouldn't disrespect her by going around telling people how hot or sexy she was, even though she was. She was honorable and respectable, and I had no intention in disrespecting her that way.

I could see it in her eyes she was curiously worried about my health, mental health anyways. I was always far away from the world, didn't care much about my studies and well, being a young smoker always pinned you as "troubled". Which I couldn't deny in a sense was true for me. All the teachers saw this in me, but no one dared to confront me. How would they? Without any plausible reason they had no way of approaching it. The VP of my school once saw the cuts on my wrists but never said anything, but he wasn't a great person, he didn't care about students' well-being, so he ignored it. Which I didn't mind. I didn't want to be confronted about it. It wouldn't change anything. My mental state would stay the same. I was still in a troubled home. I still had a troubled mind. Nothing could change that much. Nothing could change what happened to me and how that changed me. Because it did. It changed me.

Present

I woke up in a cold sweat from once again, another night terror. Not nightmare because those are things that didn't happen in real life. My night terrors are dreaming about the past. What happened in real life. They're flash backs in your sleep. I hated them. It's bad enough I have to recall them every day in my life because they were traumatic and no matter how hard I tried to push the thoughts away they came to me every day. I involuntarily shivered at the memories and went to get ready for my day. I dropped out of school and ended up doing my high school courses online in the luxury of my overly priced apartment, and now it is my first day of university. Since I received my diploma later than most people I am 21 and just now going to University. Better late than never, I suppose. I got showered and dressed in my Metallica White and grey bleached styled crewneck along with black ripped skinny jeans and white vans then proceed to slip on my black leather jacket. I then proceed to my black mustang and head to the small coffee shop I love so much to get a coffee since I have extra time this morning before orientation at York University in the one and only city Toronto, Canada.

I might have not had time for coffee this morning but thanks to the ever so lovely night terrors I was up earlier than usual. As I'm waiting on the far side of the counter for my coffee to be ready I look at my surroundings, my eyes lock on a woman who looks so painfully familiar and she catches me looking at her, when my eyes widen when I realize who this woman is. The one and only Miss. Allan. I quickly grab my coffee, thanking the employee and rush out to my mustang. Why is she here? The school she was working at as a teacher wasn't even located in Toronto. But, why do I care? It's highly unlikely that I'll see her again, fortunately. This is a big city and I don't have time to hang around and go places. I won't have to worry about seeing her again and possibly her realizing who I am.

I brush off my worries and get to the university for orientation. Orientation was about 45 minutes and they just went over what we had to do to get to classes and for people who resided in dorms, what they had to do along with the bus schedule and subway schedule for people who didn't drive, lastly, they handed out our timetables for our classes. I was quite excited for University classes to start. My dream was to become either a professional writer until I had enough experience to become either an English teacher or professor.

I was in love with literature. It was my passion. What let me breathe and escape the cruel realities of the world. It is quite an amazing thing to be able to create something extraordinary from nothing but a creative mind. Creativity is an amazing thing. With this you can move mountains, cross waters, and climb towers. Literature can speak so many volumes. It can speak to not only the person who wrote it, but the people who read it. I'm getting carried away though. My first class is Marketing and Business to help me to get my writing out there. I needed as much schooling and experience as possible if I wanted to be a successful writer. The class was basic since it was just introducing the class, but I was excited none the less to start learning all about this course and how I could become successful in my writing career.

The day went on similar, my next class was journalism and it was pretty straight forward also just introducing the course, lastly, I was now on my way to my last class of the day which was Arts in English Literature. I already knew I was going to love this class because it would mainly consist of literature and I couldn't be any more excited.

I entered the room and I was a couple minutes early I couldn't help it I was so excited for this class. I sat a couple rows from the front, wanting to be close but not too close as to not have people thinking I was a suck up. The professor walked in and I didn't look up right away as I was getting out my books for this class along with my notebook to well, take notes so I wouldn't forget or miss anything. When I finally looked up I realized how fucked I am now. Of course, just as luck would not be on my side, as per usual, my professor indeed just had to be the one and only Miss. Allan. Knowing me, I probably did something to piss off God or the Gods, if there was such thing as a higher power that is. I once again looked up and saw Miss. Allan eyeing me curiously. I was hoping to god that she didn't recognize me. Although, once her eyes lit up and she smiled that breath taking smile I knew I was screwed, and that she indeed recognized me.

I hoped she would not confront me but of course, luck was not on my side, once again. She rose to her feet smiling at me and walked over to where I was sitting and starting to shift uncomfortably underneath her gaze. "Hey... Skyler?" She questioned, in a way as if she was trying to confirm it was indeed me. "Yeah, um, hey Miss. Allan." I responded timidly. She smiled, happy to see me, which I had no clue why. Maybe just seeing a familiar face. "I didn't expect to see you here." She said, in a friendly but surprised tone. "Likewise." I said simply, I honestly wished I hadn't seen her here, and especially not as my professor. Just then the bell rang, signaling the class had to start. "Well, it's good to see you in one of my classes again. Maybe you'll stick around this time." She said with a very friendly smile and walked to the front of the room. I let out a breath I didn't know I was holding in.

Out of anyone who could be my Professor... why did it have to be her?

Why did it have to be Miss. Allan?