The Arcane Society

Chapter 15

July 1st, 2014: 3:00 PM EST

I'm hearing about my friend's summers through Facebook and Instagram. But, since I've come back from being abroad, I have no idea what to do but eat macaroons and watch TV. My brother is freaking out about the USA vs. Belgium game. What also sucks is that I have no friends in the neighborhood. All my friends are at least five minutes out of the neighborhood.

I also realized that summer is going too fast. I mean, it's July! Any who, now that I'm not leaning on the margin of jet lag, summer writing kind of brings up another memory. In fact, why don't we make every first week of the month "Flashback week?" Sounds good, right? Okay, here we go! We're jumping to the past!

February 7th, 2010: 4th Grade

I hated writing. Yes, you read the correctly, I hated writing of any sort. All because, every single year, each teacher would write on my report card,

"You need to work on legibility and organization of writing."

One teacher, however, broke the barrier. I'm going to introduce you to Ms. Dyan. She was a short lady with blonde cropped hair.

I was heading to recess, (They finally changed the routine to recess first, due to the puking epidemic. I can't believe they took until 3rd grade to see it.) when Ms. Dyan pulls me over.

"Elisabeth, may I talk to you for a second?" She asks nicely. I pull away from Marlee and walk into her classroom. She then gestures me to sit. Her blue eyes gaze at me. Her face showed no hostility. Okay, I'm not in trouble, just relax. I tell myself

"You wanted to see me, Ms. Dyan?" I ask with as much courtesy as I can. I had I admit, I was nervous.

"I've noticed you've had trouble writing recently. This is our progress from September to now." Her tone was kind, but there was something else. Pity, perhaps? She slides on the desk towards me three papers. The one from September was completely full. I then look over at a December paper and it's about half full. I finally manage to look at my most recent assignment and it's only about a quarter page of writing. I also noticed that my legibility was decreasing.

"I-." I paused. I've never been confronted on my writing before. I never understood why I was so horrible with motor skills and writer's block. I read everything I could about it, but no answer seemed to fit. "I think I know why I'm decreasing." I looked away towards the window, the melting pile of snow.

"Well, what are your thoughts?" There was no impatience in her tone.

"Every single teacher I've had has commented on my report card that my writing has a lack of organization and is...unreadable. I never understood why they couldn't help me fix it. I've looked at every resource that explains motor skill but nothing fit with my writing."

Ms. Dyan nodded. "So, from what I've heard from your mom, the Learning Resource Center and you, I-."

"I'm sorry," I interrupted, "but, my mom was here?" Mom? What's she doing in this conversation!?

"No worries, Elisabeth. You're doing fantastic in school. But, from what I've heard from the three of you, you seemed pressurized about something. But, there's something more than just the past, it's also here." She paused, thinking of how to put the next sentence.

"It's the social part of school!" I blurted out. "I seem off, like I'm the black sheep." I chastised myself on the inside.

She widened her eyes. "My, but you're so kind and open."

I was getting frustrated. I slammed my hands on the table. "So then why don't people listen to me!? I see my classmates with as much as a ten person group. I can't rely on just two people!" Quality over quantity, idiot! I chastise. I felt heat rising into my face. "I'm sorry, I just feel so alone, I feel like I have no one to turn to..." I trailed off.

"You have a lot of people to turn to, Elisabeth. But, dealing with the topic here, peer and scholar pressure is causing writer's block which in turn, turns into lack of writing and a nervous mind." She said calmly. "That makes a lot of sense." I couldn't understand why she didn't yell at me for my altitude, until I think back to Tiara and the tire swing. I'm changing... I feel like a raging teenager.

"How about you come in for a couple weeks and I'll help you?" She stands and I stand as well.

"That sounds nice." I smile. "I'll tell my friends I'll be a bit busy. Thanks for contacting me, and... I'm sorry for the outburst."

"It's nothing, now, I'll see you tomorrow for lunch."