I mean I wasn't really anticipating anything special about entering the third grade. I knew that it would be just as simple as second if not simpler.
My name is Elena. I'm a literature prodigy. My parents first realized this when I was age two and was already reading, speaking and writing.
I come from a good family, with good looks and all with their own talent; I just had a way with words.
I stepped into my third grade classroom. It's a vast and bright carpeted room with white walls and hyper-colored everything, supposedly put there to stimulate our young minds.
My father puts a hand on my shoulder and in his Finnish accent says "Let's go meet Mrs Taylor." I nod and he takes me over to a tall, white blond woman probably in her early sixties in a way too tight dress that hugs every aspect of her aging figure. Her eyes behind her round glasses smile at me and she looks up at me father and says, "Hello, I'm Mrs Taylor; and who is this?" My dad nudges me and in my shy voice I say, "My name is Elena Astala." I hold her pale blue eyes and then look down at my shoes. "And I'm Markus Astala, pleased to make your acquaintance." Then he looks down at his own shoes. "Well, rakkaus (Finnish for darling) I think that it's time for me to go now. You have a good time. I know for sure that Mrs Taylor will take good care of you." He turns, leaves and then I'm stuck in this class with strange kids, and an utterly strange teacher.
YOU ARE READING
Shortest Infinity
Non-FictionElena is a literature prodigy with a bright future ahead of her with a talent for gothic art and dark poetry. Elena has always loved school because she shines in every one of her classes; until the third grade when she's lonely, depressed and neglec...
