Every day I walk through these doors and every day I wonder why. This place is supposed to be a good learning environment, I should feel comfortable to be myself and grow into the person I was made to be. Sadly, none of these things are true and sadly, they apply to everyone but me.
I was at the point of no return, wherever I went, she was there. She would sneer at every move I made. Like a wild animal waiting for the kill, she would watch me, waiting for something, anything, to harass me about. Today was like any other, I made my way through the hallway to room 64, Ms. Prescott’s second grade class. I hung up my coat amongst the others against the back wall and quietly made my way to a desk. Suddenly, I felt a bitter chill. She had just walked in. I didn’t dare look. I remained sitting, impatiently waiting for the class to start. You see I loved it when Ms. Prescott taught because Emily would put on her angelic mask and refrain from doing anything horrible to me. After what seemed like hours, Ms. Prescott walked in with a smile on her face and a stack of colored construction paper in her hand. I was curious as to what the papers were for, but I had no voice in that room. Ms. Prescott handed out three pieces of paper to each of us and gave instructions to cut and glue together a picture of the Mayflower. This task was simple enough and took until lunch to complete.
For most kids, lunch was their favorite time of the day. We had plenty of time to eat, relax and enjoy recess without being constantly watched by our teachers. That was the problem for me though: no teachers meant Emily could get away with just about anything.
As we walked in a line to the lunch room, I wondered what she had brewed up for me today. Was it going to be another ear piercing insult? Or would she take it a step further and make physical contact? Only time would tell. As usual, I sat in the center of the third table, and as usual, Emily sat in front of me. I have never been able to figure out why a person would sit close to someone they hate so much. Nonetheless, she always sat near me, and today was no exception. She turned around and gave me this nasty glare. Even though I had gotten this before, it seemed like every time she was looking directly into my soul. I had always considered myself a decent person, so I’m not exactly sure what she found in there that made her hate me.
“What?!” I snapped.
Without taking a breath she practically screamed, “EW! YOU SPIT IN MY FOOD!”
“No I didn’t!” I defended.
Now using her high pitched whinny scream, “EW! YOU JUST DID IT AGAIN!”
Obviously, I hadn’t spit in her food; I was merely talking, not spraying my words. As my mom and sister had advised, I tried to ignore her and eat my food. This task is easier said than done, because try as I might, I couldn’t help feeling like I was being watched. In these situations it’s extremely hard to ignore an endless glare. Her eyes followed every move I made. While keeping my head down, I peeked up and looked at her eyes. Nonchalantly, I moved my hand up, when her eyes followed, I moved it down. I watched her eyes lower. I moved it to the right, and her eyes moved left. Now, being thoroughly scared for my life, I gobbled the rest of my ham sandwich and raced out the door.
I was at the point of no return, wherever I went, she was there. She would sneer at every move I made. Like a wild animal waiting for the kill, she would watch me, waiting for something, anything, to harass me about. Today was like any other, I made my way through the hallway to room 64, Ms. Prescott’s second grade class. I hung up my coat amongst the others against the back wall and quietly made my way to a desk. Suddenly, I felt a bitter chill. She had just walked in. I didn’t dare look. I remained sitting, impatiently waiting for the class to start. You see I loved it when Ms. Prescott taught because Emily would put on her angelic mask and refrain from doing anything horrible to me. After what seemed like hours, Ms. Prescott walked in with a smile on her face and a stack of colored construction paper in her hand. I was curious as to what the papers were for, but I had no voice in that room. Ms. Prescott handed out three pieces of paper to each of us and gave instructions to cut and glue together a picture of the Mayflower. This task was simple enough and took until lunch to complete.
For most kids, lunch was their favorite time of the day. We had plenty of time to eat, relax and enjoy recess without being constantly watched by our teachers. That was the problem for me though: no teachers meant Emily could get away with just about anything.
As we walked in a line to the lunch room, I wondered what she had brewed up for me today. Was it going to be another ear piercing insult? Or would she take it a step further and make physical contact? Only time would tell. As usual, I sat in the center of the third table, and as usual, Emily sat in front of me. I have never been able to figure out why a person would sit close to someone they hate so much. Nonetheless, she always sat near me, and today was no exception. She turned around and gave me this nasty glare. Even though I had gotten this before, it seemed like every time she was looking directly into my soul. I had always considered myself a decent person, so I’m not exactly sure what she found in there that made her hate me.
“What?!” I snapped.
Without taking a breath she practically screamed, “EW! YOU SPIT IN MY FOOD!”
“No I didn’t!” I defended.
Now using her high pitched whinny scream, “EW! YOU JUST DID IT AGAIN!”
Obviously, I hadn’t spit in her food; I was merely talking, not spraying my words. As my mom and sister had advised, I tried to ignore her and eat my food. This task is easier said than done, because try as I might, I couldn’t help feeling like I was being watched. In these situations it’s extremely hard to ignore an endless glare. Her eyes followed every move I made. While keeping my head down, I peeked up and looked at her eyes. Nonchalantly, I moved my hand up, when her eyes followed, I moved it down. I watched her eyes lower. I moved it to the right, and her eyes moved left. Now, being thoroughly scared for my life, I gobbled the rest of my ham sandwich and raced out the door.
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