Your my smile, Jackie Grace

||•oldies and trouble•||

Rows of chairs faced me,the hallway appearing empty and lifeless.

The raw, bare walls

Laid before me, pushing me into thought.

Rays of sunlight danced on my skin as I sat in the empty hall. The scorching rays from the sun prompt my hair to cling to my face. I shifted my body in an attempt to see what Mr.Marks was doing through the fog-like window. Before making a tiny squeak sound from the broken armchair I had settled in,

I tugged up the sleeves of my T-shirt, trying to ease the temperature of my body. shifting my body in again in an attempt to see what Mr. Marks was saying, I gave out a quick yawn. Through the blurry window, I saw Mr.Marks' face buried in his computer, with a perplexed look on his face. He must have noticed that I was staring at him since he looked up at me shortly after with an unfazed look. I prepared myself for everything he would say—everything I expected him to say.

"You're better than this, Jackie."

"I want you to succeed, Jackie." "Jackie, I want to help you." What was funny was that his enthusiasm decreased with each sentence. With each repetition of those words, it seemed as though he was trying to convince himself, like that if he believed hard enough, he would be able to help me. Could he have thought? He would be able to revive my dead mother? Or enhance my brain's functionality?

  My thoughts were hurried away by the rhythm of his shoes. I watched him get up out of his chair. I beam my eyes at him with each step. I took a deep breath, his feet hitting the ground with every stride, following the rhythm of my breath.

"Jackie?" Mr. Mark muttered in a monotone voice. Opening the door behind him

"Mr. Marks?" I mocked with a boring tone. There he was standing right in front of me, fiddling with his glasses.

Appearing bored I stretched my body, acting like I had been sitting in the same spot for hours, when it really had been five minutes. I gestured toward the door. guiding  by.  Mr. Marks, I pulled my hair back into a ponytail. Mr. Marks, with his little frame, held the door open for me. I closed it right behind him as I walked on. But not even before taking a seat, he gave me a brief look. I understand what it's like to lose someone you love, so please accept my sincere condolences for your loss. However, you shouldn't handle your emotions that way. Well, that's what I assumed anyway. I was always good at reading people. You've probably heard the saying that actions speak louder than words. That's the way it is with eyes; they can tell a narrative, even if most people haven't been able to figure it out. Taking a seat across from me was Mr. Marks, dressed in his typical polo shirt and shirts.With his brown-gray beard, I imagined his age to be in his mid-50s. After all, I was not planning on approaching him and asking him how old he was!

"How's that old hag holding up in the nursing home? I asked, trying to make conversation but clearly not interested.

"My Mom?" He answered back. Unimpressed,

"My mother?" he asked once again, assuming I hadn't heard him.

"Oh, right, her," I said softly after realizing I was correct. I exclaimed with excitement. putting my feet up on his desk to show that I'm worthy of a prize. He simply gave me a confused, scowling face and pulled my feet off his disorganized desk. I rolled my eyes in an attempt to lessen the hurt. "Quick question?"

I asked, jokingly, "

"Is it not the case that when elderly people speak, dust appears out of their mouths?" I asked aloud.

He simply degraded my question.

. "Jackie, this is your third time getting called down to my office this week," he said in a serious tone.

I ignored him, fiddling with a pen on his desk. I just looked at him plainly, pulling my gaze to the window.

"I was joking, and I didn't realize he was going to take that personally,"  I said, grinning, clearly not bothered.

He was agitated by my answer and gave me a troubled look.

He adjusted his glasses to take a closer look at his computer. He replied," Well, it's not a joke to call your teacher." His face drew nearer the screen."A" He stammered out." a... a... a...