Secrets Only My English Teacher Knows

Secrets Only My English Teacher Knows (Chapter 3)

My hand continued to write over the notebook paper, taking pauses to move onto the next paragraph. A glass broke somewhere in the kitchen, followed by my drunk father cursing loudly. Hate, it was such a strong word that seemed at the moment, so very important. I hated what my mother left behind, I hated what my father becomes every night, I hated myself for just accepting it all. I never really discussed any of this with anyone. Right after my mother died, thats when I first started to try and reach out to people. I use to have a whole group of friends. But of course, none of them really knew how to relate. After a few months, I could see the look on there faces when I use to talk about her still. It was the, "It happened forever ago, get over it." look. I dont blame them for distancing themselves from me. Like I mentioned before, they all had both there parents and would never understand what it was like to lose someone you love so much.     

Sandy of course stuck, but after everyone left me, I learned to keep my mouth shut. I smiled more around her, and kept the secrets of my dad and pain inside. But here I was now, writing my heart out, telling my story. I wrote it as a short story of a young girl who lost her dog, and how horrible she felt afterwards. And about how soon after her best friend who also loved the dog, started being mean to her. No, I did not have the guts to really write about my circumstance. But getting close to the situation felt good enough. And even if Mr. Whilder just scans over the paper and writes a big F on it, at least someone will know a small part of my heart ache.     

Five pages later, I finished the last sentence and stopped. A small weight felt lifted off my shoulders as I placed the journal by the alarm clock, and laid down. The bright red letter glared at me, yelling that it was now 11:52 and time for bed. Clicking off the side lamp, I rolled under the covers staring at my covered window. The light blue curtains looked black in the dark, making things more dreary.    

 I must have drifted off at some point, because soon I was being awoken by my alarm clock blaring at me. I rolled over with a groan, slamming my hand on the sleep button. My usual routine began grabbing some clothes, taking a quick shower, and hurrying quickly out the door. I stopped suddenly with my hands gripping the straps on my backpack. No wonder why I havent ran into dad this morning, he was laughing with Mr. Whilder.

Mr. Whilder had a strain look on his face as he laughed along. I could tell though by the annoyed look behind his dark eyes that he was forcing himself to be polite. Seeing how im always late though, Im guessing that dad must of walked out, noticed our new neighbor walking about as well, and stroked up a conversation that was now making my new English teacher late to class. A smirk couldnt help but play on my lips as I walked away from the scene and began my way down the road. Looks like the jerk who was so keen on disciplining us, was now going to break one of his many rules.    

 "Amy!" Sandy shouted, pushing away some guy she was previously making out with.

I gave her a look, slowing my step as I walked into the school.

"Interrupting anything?" I asked hesitantly.

Sandy rolled her eyes, taking my arm in hers and dragging me away from the pour baffoon.

"Never Amy!" She smiled, pulling down the ends of her skirt from its ruffled position.

"You know, you should really start thinking about there feelings." I chimed as she walked me to class.

We stopped at the door, her blue eyes going wide. "Are you talking about the funny feeling they get down there? Amy I do care."     

 "Oh gross! Stop!" I laughed out as she continued to look innocent. "Go to class you pervert." I pushed her down the hall listening to her yell something about me having virgin ears.