*You don't need to Bother..
I don't need to be,
I'll keep slipping further..
But once I hold on,
I won't let go till it bleeds..*
Something was up with her. He had noticed something about her before, but had never really thought about it. His class had ended only 15 minutes later and the kids had piled out of the room with the bell. He hadn't expected them at all to wait that long. Harry sat on the stairwell. After making the mistake of going up to 'ground level' and running into Steven Harper. Boy did that man get on his nerves sometimes. It was never a personal thing, however. But their work relationship sure suffered sometimes. He had gotten the famous Harper lecture and had been ordered back to his classroom, all the while Scott Goober, *the* most annoying man, nearly busting his face - he wanted to say something. Harper had silenced the short man though and Harry had been grateful for that. He would have sworn if Scott would have piped in one word, he would have shot him on directly to the mouth.
The class walked down the hall towards him, taking notice that he was there, sitting on the 3rd stair to the bottom, now dress shirt sleeves rolled up to his elbows, his jacket and briefcase now absent. They hadn't said anything though as they filed up the stairs on his right side, one by one. A few embarrassed looks were turned his way but he didn't look back. Instead he noticed her.
Her name was Ashley Whitmore. She was a 'loner' if one wanted to put labels on people, and hardly ever talked. She was in his class, and throughout the year of teaching her, he could hardly remember if she had said one word.
She was the last one out of the classroom, and upon leaving, she seemed to debate in her mind whether to shut the classroom door ot not, but then she spotted him sitting on the stairs and opted to leave it open. Ashley's warm eyes were hidden by light framed glasses and her fine brown hair hung down on her shoulders. She didn't seem to look different from the other kids, which was why he could never understand why they didn't seem to like her. She always gave insightful answers on tests and exams but he noticed lately that her once high scores had drastically slipped to a below passing mark.
She walked towards him then, about to head up the stairs to most likely her locker, and her eyes were on the floor. Her shoulders were slumped more than usual, her face in a low frown. She neared him, eyes still glued to the floor. Ashley started up the stairs and Harry, on impulse, touched her arm, and she flinched and looked at him with big brown eyes. The sorrow swam in them.
"Are you okay?" He asked, seeing the saddness in her eyes and hoping for an honest response, but she nodded quickly and hurried away from him before the tears could spill down her cheeks.
Harry clasped his hands with his arms draped over hi knees. She wasn't okay was the only thing he could onclude, and finding out why and helpin Ashley seemed like something burned into his mind and heart that he had to do.
Thoughts ran through his head. When he had touched her arm, she had flinched, in pain perhaps? Was she being abused? By parents? By peers? Or was she just taken by alarm? He suddenly wanted to go after her but knew there was no point.
His headache was more noticeable now and he rubbed his eyes with both of his hands feeling the darkness good for those few seconds. How he wished he could just go home and fall into bed. But it was only lunchtime and he regretfully had one more class in the afternoon. His anger had been calmed by those 15 quiet minutes in the hallway however, and he thought that he could probably last the rest of the school day without swearing at anyone.
If he was lucky.
I don't need to be,
I'll keep slipping further..
But once I hold on,
I won't let go till it bleeds..*
Something was up with her. He had noticed something about her before, but had never really thought about it. His class had ended only 15 minutes later and the kids had piled out of the room with the bell. He hadn't expected them at all to wait that long. Harry sat on the stairwell. After making the mistake of going up to 'ground level' and running into Steven Harper. Boy did that man get on his nerves sometimes. It was never a personal thing, however. But their work relationship sure suffered sometimes. He had gotten the famous Harper lecture and had been ordered back to his classroom, all the while Scott Goober, *the* most annoying man, nearly busting his face - he wanted to say something. Harper had silenced the short man though and Harry had been grateful for that. He would have sworn if Scott would have piped in one word, he would have shot him on directly to the mouth.
The class walked down the hall towards him, taking notice that he was there, sitting on the 3rd stair to the bottom, now dress shirt sleeves rolled up to his elbows, his jacket and briefcase now absent. They hadn't said anything though as they filed up the stairs on his right side, one by one. A few embarrassed looks were turned his way but he didn't look back. Instead he noticed her.
Her name was Ashley Whitmore. She was a 'loner' if one wanted to put labels on people, and hardly ever talked. She was in his class, and throughout the year of teaching her, he could hardly remember if she had said one word.
She was the last one out of the classroom, and upon leaving, she seemed to debate in her mind whether to shut the classroom door ot not, but then she spotted him sitting on the stairs and opted to leave it open. Ashley's warm eyes were hidden by light framed glasses and her fine brown hair hung down on her shoulders. She didn't seem to look different from the other kids, which was why he could never understand why they didn't seem to like her. She always gave insightful answers on tests and exams but he noticed lately that her once high scores had drastically slipped to a below passing mark.
She walked towards him then, about to head up the stairs to most likely her locker, and her eyes were on the floor. Her shoulders were slumped more than usual, her face in a low frown. She neared him, eyes still glued to the floor. Ashley started up the stairs and Harry, on impulse, touched her arm, and she flinched and looked at him with big brown eyes. The sorrow swam in them.
"Are you okay?" He asked, seeing the saddness in her eyes and hoping for an honest response, but she nodded quickly and hurried away from him before the tears could spill down her cheeks.
Harry clasped his hands with his arms draped over hi knees. She wasn't okay was the only thing he could onclude, and finding out why and helpin Ashley seemed like something burned into his mind and heart that he had to do.
Thoughts ran through his head. When he had touched her arm, she had flinched, in pain perhaps? Was she being abused? By parents? By peers? Or was she just taken by alarm? He suddenly wanted to go after her but knew there was no point.
His headache was more noticeable now and he rubbed his eyes with both of his hands feeling the darkness good for those few seconds. How he wished he could just go home and fall into bed. But it was only lunchtime and he regretfully had one more class in the afternoon. His anger had been calmed by those 15 quiet minutes in the hallway however, and he thought that he could probably last the rest of the school day without swearing at anyone.
If he was lucky.