Writing's Second Taste

Chapter Eighteen: Bomb Scene

I stood there in front of Uncle Levi inside the faculty room, my shoe tapping nervously on the floor. He hummed while his eyes scanned my final paper, his red pen twirling in his fingers. I've had papers graded by my teachers in front of my very eyes before but there was this unsettling feeling when your own relative was the one doing it – especially if said relative was the reason you're even going to the school.

"It's good," he said, flipping back to the front page after he have reached the last one, "Not your greatest work but so far, yours is the best in your class."

"You're not saying that because I'm your niece, right?"

He chuckled before shaking his head, "I'm saying it as your professor. I did look around for your grades in your other classes and it's quite impressive, you've inherited your father's diligence."

"I'm telling mom that you said him and not her," I joked and he once again laughed.

I had a few minutes left before my last final exam started and I squeezed a little bit of time to see my uncle and asked him about my final paper. The months flew by and it was solidified when the temperature went from a chilly breeze to a full-on freezing temperature. There was one morning where we all woke up and there was a light dusting of snow covering the ground, everybody rejoicing that winter has finally come.

And you can bet that I booked my flight as soon as I got my exam schedule. Tonight, I'm going to go back to America and enjoy home. Goodbye tall bushy trees and scary old concrete building, hello cramped sidewalks and high-rise buildings.

I'm going to eat an extremely large pizza the moment I get picked up from the airport.

"Don't you have a test you need to be answering?" he quipped back, placing my paper on the stack with the others. I playfully rolled my eyes, getting my bag that I placed on his desk and giving him a mock salute, "See you on Christmas."

This was probably the last time that we were going to see each other in more or less a week. Here in front of me was the man who I always looked at as the fun uncle, the one that lets me stay up all night when left to his care. As I grew up, I started to ask tips from him on how to write. He saw my struggle, I never asked him to do anything nor did my mother, but he offered in his volition.

That playful man turned into my mentor.

From the day I arrived up until now, he has been there to look after me. Giving me the sketchbook, monitoring my work, and even letting me stay in his apartment when I wanted to escape; heck, he was even the one who was paying for my phone bill.

Well, of course that was after he had given a lengthy lecture about overseas calls.

He offered me a fresh start and it was just the first semester to many but it felt like it had such a huge impact on me. Bending forward, I wrapped my arms around him, "Thanks Uncle Levi."

This looked creepy if you think that we were the ordinary student and teacher. I didn't care but he did, so just to make things a little less compromising, he placed a fatherly hand on top of my head, "Anything for my favorite niece."

And it felt like we've come full circle again, "I'm your only niece."

"Exactly," redoing our exact conversation on my first day here, "Are you going by taxi to the airport? I can have Andy drive you there."

"I'll take you up on that offer," I accepted, slowly inching away towards the door, "Plus I have to say goodbye to Aunt Janine and Emma as well. I'll be there at maybe four or five."

Once he said goodbye, I went outside the faculty room and rushed towards the lecture hall wherein I had to take my exam. Let's just say that I've had a total of thirty minutes of sleep last night because I was up all night studying for my two finals – one I took earlier and this.