I teach at a small school in a mountainous region in the United States. On good years, we have maybe twenty students grades kindergarten through eighth. I handle the littles, my husband handles the older kids. It’s not a job you take if you want a secure lifestyle with a luxurious retirement, but it is one you take when you care about the future of children.
Alma was a first grader and very bright. I ended up having to give her the second grader’s books by the end of the first quarter and knew by Christmas she’d likely be caught up to the fourth graders. She always raised her hand and never spoke out of turn.
When you’re a broke actor, you’ll take any job thrown your way.
I was one of those broke actors. I hadn’t caught my ‘big break’ yet. I’d go to every audition, and throw my heart and soul into each part. But the most I got out of it was a few plays and almost a commercial, if I hadn’t gotten appendicitis two days before we began shooting. I was immediately replaced and they didn’t attempt to make contact again.
So I was broke, the landlord was banging down my door, and I was going to cry if I didn’t nail something soon.
Celia was my neighbor and fellow actor. She had bouncy blonde curls and a chipper attitude that couldn’t be let down, no matter how many times she was turned down. She kept me going really, while we ate dinners of cheap ramen noodles and searched the internet for more work.
‘We’ll get our big breaks! Just wait!’
Then she told me about a modeling job that she’d gotten both of us.
A girl named Linda was the first to find ‘the answer’.
We weren’t friends. I don’t think anyone would say they were Linda’s friend. She kept to herself to the point where even the students that would typically bully the weak member of the herd didn’t even know she existed. She was quiet. I think she liked it that way.
It was third period, Algebra II. Mr. Pinney was giving out today’s assignment when the relative silence of the room was broken by laughter.
You get questions like this all the time when you run a horror tumblr. You’ll get a confused person, anonymous or not, asking if you were the one who wrote this story or if you’ve heard of it. Couple times I have written what they’re looking for, other times I know the person who did, and if none of that works odds are one of my followers know.
I personally enjoy these questions. If I haven’t heard of the story then maybe I’ve found something new to read, and I love finding new things to read. And if I have heard of it, well, I’m just helping someone out.
A couple days ago I got an ask about a story that still has me scratching my head though.