The perfect dream By Athena Leonharte
She sat wearily at the desk, eyes drooping from lack of sleep. Her hair now lay in her face after escaping her tight bun and her glasses lay crooked at the end of her nose. Lips slightly parted a yawn escaped the teachers mouth, overcome by fatigue from the absence of peaceful slumber. Looking towards the stack of uncorrected copies with a frown she took hold of another and began to read an attempt at an essay. The more she read, the more her weakness set in and eventually she succumbed to slumber.
Jessica woke a few hours later, a creak in her neck and sleep in her eyes, all the same she felt better. The dreaded copies still lay waiting, untouched and isolated. They reflect me, she thought with a yawn as she resumed the reading of this essay. Hands quivering as she turned the pages, she shook herself and blinked for a few moments in a futile attempt to focus her brain. Taking her red pen into her hand she wrote, poor attempt and flung the copy onto the floor. She worked her way through the pile until only one copy remained. More tattered than the others but the owner had made an attempt to hold it together and cover up the stains.
Opened it revealed neat handwriting with tidy margins and perfect paragraphs, her dreams come true, she was already impressed. The title read " What I want most of all," by Zeke. He never used his last name, there was no need, everyone knew who he was. Flicking absentmindedly through the pages she realised it was by far a lot longer than any of the others she had read, and the author had taken great care to make sure each page was immaculate and as perfect in appearance as the last. Jessica began to read, her eyes following the words in a linear pattern, her eyes lighting up and a smile creeping across her face.
"Often I have pondered this question, would it be world peace, lots of money or to wipe out famine. But after much consideration I have realised that what I crave for more than anything is a person." How sweet, she thought sarcastically, he has a crush on a girl. She read on. "I have watched and admired from afar, but as of yet she has shown no interest in me. Perhaps I am too naïve to think that she could ever love me, but a sign just to know she feels the same way would make me happier than ever before." Unrequited, she thought sadly, poor guy he seams to have got it bad. Her eyes spied a break in the regular writing as she realised he had included a poem, perhaps he had an interest in English after all.
Why is it you hate me so,
When all I want is for you to know.
Why is it you loathe my name,
When all it brings is hurt and pain.
Why is it you hate my presence,
When all I want is to remain resident,
In your arms for eternity,
Just you and me.
Why is it you hate my eyes,
When all I want is for you to realise.
Why is it you hate me so,
When all I want is for you to know,
I'm in love.
That is real sweet, she thought sadly, if only someone would write a poem like that for me. She was still young and yet she had never had a proper boyfriend, she hadn't even attended her prom content to stay at home and read poems by Roger Mc Gough. Staring at the poem again, a drip of water escaped her eyes and splashed onto the dry page, the ink smearing the neat handwriting. It had been years since she had cried; so long, in fact that she couldn't remember the last time she had allowed this to happen. Jessica had kept everything inside, and now as she read this poem about a students crush the memories came flooding back, the rejection and the pain, never even talking to her high school sweet heart.
Shaking her head and rubbing her eyes she corrected the copy and placed it upon the pile. Standing up to leave, she pushed her chair back and gathered her things, she'd done enough tonight. As she turned out the light and went to shut the door the moonlight fell upon the copy, she shook her head in amusement as she ran back quickly, picked it up and left the building. Being a proper teacher meant correcting copies properly. Driving fast down the road, she thought back over her non-existent love life. In reality, she had never had much contact with other people outside of her family. Her only perceptions of romance were in her beloved books, but they in no way could compare to what real love was like, or so she thought. Slamming on the brakes she got out of the car and went into her house, her mind filling with increasingly dubious thoughts about her life, had she wasted it?
Lying back in her bed she opened the copy and continued where she had left off. "I've never felt this way before, it's so different to the sensation of isolation and when I see her a warm feeling wells up in my stomach and for once I am speechless." How she wished someone loved her that much, so much it made them ache and lost for words. Wouldn't it be wonderful for someone to show you that much attention and gratitude simply for you being. To feel needed and wanted and you could do no wrong. "Ever since I first saw you I knew it was love, and to this day I know its love I feel." Her eyebrows furrowed in a questioning manner as she reread the line again, it was obvious he had simply made a mistake. Jessica resumed reading. "I know it sounds strange but I do care for you, and I've decided not to waste one more precious moment with you, without you knowing how I feel, it's not right and I feel like I'm lying." So she was right, he had written this for her, Zeke!
Her heart began to prance in her chest as the realisation sunk in, he wanted her. The more she thought the more the pieces of the puzzle fell into place, the way he had looked at her and always so eager to please. Zeke, his hair so wispy and yet so thick, clinging to his scalp when wet. His eye's the window into his soul, that brilliant blue; the colour of the sky and his clothes the colour of his beloved car, the flames representing his wicked streak. At each sensation and dream she realised she too loved him, and perhaps always had, it gave her a reason to go on.
Jessica wrote at the end of his homework, good work Zeke, see me after class. A grin spread across her face and her eyes began to drip, not from sadness but from Joy. The Joy he had brought to her was special and perhaps she too brought Joy to him. She lay back and stared at the ceiling, for once, she wouldn't wake from her perfect dream, it had become reality.
The end.
She sat wearily at the desk, eyes drooping from lack of sleep. Her hair now lay in her face after escaping her tight bun and her glasses lay crooked at the end of her nose. Lips slightly parted a yawn escaped the teachers mouth, overcome by fatigue from the absence of peaceful slumber. Looking towards the stack of uncorrected copies with a frown she took hold of another and began to read an attempt at an essay. The more she read, the more her weakness set in and eventually she succumbed to slumber.
Jessica woke a few hours later, a creak in her neck and sleep in her eyes, all the same she felt better. The dreaded copies still lay waiting, untouched and isolated. They reflect me, she thought with a yawn as she resumed the reading of this essay. Hands quivering as she turned the pages, she shook herself and blinked for a few moments in a futile attempt to focus her brain. Taking her red pen into her hand she wrote, poor attempt and flung the copy onto the floor. She worked her way through the pile until only one copy remained. More tattered than the others but the owner had made an attempt to hold it together and cover up the stains.
Opened it revealed neat handwriting with tidy margins and perfect paragraphs, her dreams come true, she was already impressed. The title read " What I want most of all," by Zeke. He never used his last name, there was no need, everyone knew who he was. Flicking absentmindedly through the pages she realised it was by far a lot longer than any of the others she had read, and the author had taken great care to make sure each page was immaculate and as perfect in appearance as the last. Jessica began to read, her eyes following the words in a linear pattern, her eyes lighting up and a smile creeping across her face.
"Often I have pondered this question, would it be world peace, lots of money or to wipe out famine. But after much consideration I have realised that what I crave for more than anything is a person." How sweet, she thought sarcastically, he has a crush on a girl. She read on. "I have watched and admired from afar, but as of yet she has shown no interest in me. Perhaps I am too naïve to think that she could ever love me, but a sign just to know she feels the same way would make me happier than ever before." Unrequited, she thought sadly, poor guy he seams to have got it bad. Her eyes spied a break in the regular writing as she realised he had included a poem, perhaps he had an interest in English after all.
Why is it you hate me so,
When all I want is for you to know.
Why is it you loathe my name,
When all it brings is hurt and pain.
Why is it you hate my presence,
When all I want is to remain resident,
In your arms for eternity,
Just you and me.
Why is it you hate my eyes,
When all I want is for you to realise.
Why is it you hate me so,
When all I want is for you to know,
I'm in love.
That is real sweet, she thought sadly, if only someone would write a poem like that for me. She was still young and yet she had never had a proper boyfriend, she hadn't even attended her prom content to stay at home and read poems by Roger Mc Gough. Staring at the poem again, a drip of water escaped her eyes and splashed onto the dry page, the ink smearing the neat handwriting. It had been years since she had cried; so long, in fact that she couldn't remember the last time she had allowed this to happen. Jessica had kept everything inside, and now as she read this poem about a students crush the memories came flooding back, the rejection and the pain, never even talking to her high school sweet heart.
Shaking her head and rubbing her eyes she corrected the copy and placed it upon the pile. Standing up to leave, she pushed her chair back and gathered her things, she'd done enough tonight. As she turned out the light and went to shut the door the moonlight fell upon the copy, she shook her head in amusement as she ran back quickly, picked it up and left the building. Being a proper teacher meant correcting copies properly. Driving fast down the road, she thought back over her non-existent love life. In reality, she had never had much contact with other people outside of her family. Her only perceptions of romance were in her beloved books, but they in no way could compare to what real love was like, or so she thought. Slamming on the brakes she got out of the car and went into her house, her mind filling with increasingly dubious thoughts about her life, had she wasted it?
Lying back in her bed she opened the copy and continued where she had left off. "I've never felt this way before, it's so different to the sensation of isolation and when I see her a warm feeling wells up in my stomach and for once I am speechless." How she wished someone loved her that much, so much it made them ache and lost for words. Wouldn't it be wonderful for someone to show you that much attention and gratitude simply for you being. To feel needed and wanted and you could do no wrong. "Ever since I first saw you I knew it was love, and to this day I know its love I feel." Her eyebrows furrowed in a questioning manner as she reread the line again, it was obvious he had simply made a mistake. Jessica resumed reading. "I know it sounds strange but I do care for you, and I've decided not to waste one more precious moment with you, without you knowing how I feel, it's not right and I feel like I'm lying." So she was right, he had written this for her, Zeke!
Her heart began to prance in her chest as the realisation sunk in, he wanted her. The more she thought the more the pieces of the puzzle fell into place, the way he had looked at her and always so eager to please. Zeke, his hair so wispy and yet so thick, clinging to his scalp when wet. His eye's the window into his soul, that brilliant blue; the colour of the sky and his clothes the colour of his beloved car, the flames representing his wicked streak. At each sensation and dream she realised she too loved him, and perhaps always had, it gave her a reason to go on.
Jessica wrote at the end of his homework, good work Zeke, see me after class. A grin spread across her face and her eyes began to drip, not from sadness but from Joy. The Joy he had brought to her was special and perhaps she too brought Joy to him. She lay back and stared at the ceiling, for once, she wouldn't wake from her perfect dream, it had become reality.
The end.