While I'm sitting in class, drawing in my beat up notebook, I over hear the other students chatting very loudly, I think on purpose?
I may or may not be drawing a picture of what I think of myself. I draw medium length, dark red hair. I dyed it a few months ago to get rid of my light blonde hair. My short, pale body is covered in light, small freckles. I pull down the school uniform skirt that is too short for comfort. As I look up from my drawing and I over hear the female students again.
"Did you see the post that one girl made on twitter?" whispered one girl very loudly. I mean she isn't even trying to discreet.
"No, what did it say Aiko-San?" the other girl whispered. Why are they even whispering? They aren't even trying to be quite.
"The post said-" And as on queue the bell rang, signalling that last hour was beginning.
Then after a few seconds the teacher for this class (obviously) walked in holding her class plans, with the graded homework that we turned in last Thursday.
Then automatically she started the daily roll call.
"Tammy Watson?" She inquired.
"Here." I yelp quickly.
Then she started class. I took notes the best I could, she talks very fast. By the way you can hear how Ms. Camille loved to talk math. She was one of those fresh-out-of-college people. She was very extroverted on the first day. But now nearing the last weeks of school, she has dulled to a pencil that you can never get sharped.
She was in the middle of her sentence when the bell rang, she always lost her sense of time.
As the rowdy students were yelling over each other, clearly glad that the school day was over, she was trying to yell over them "Don't forget to do that math assignment I assigned at the beginning of class!"
I slowly was getting up from my desk when already half of the class was halfway down the streets. Almost like a robot I started putting my folders and notebooks into my blue and cat - covered backpack I had owned for several years now. I was heading towards the door when she spoke softly, almost like talking to a crying baby.
"Tammy, is there something you want to talk about, is everything okay?" Ms. Camille spoke softly, soft like a fresh blanket of snow. Only her voice was softer.
"Y-yes, I-I'm okay." I mumble, my cheeks flooding with a pinkish tint.
"Okay..." she gave me a concerned tone. Why does she do this to me?
As I finally exited the hell-hole that I've spent most of my days at, I can finally breath without losing my life.
Now I must travel home to meet a new opponent.
Ugh.
