1 - Contd.
Ignoring a chorus of acerbic, mocking comments that ran around my classroom, I finally found myself shaking her hand.
'N-nice to meet you, Miss Parker.'
Faith Parker.
She said nothing, only bobbing her head shyly in greeting.
She had wanted to be an astronaut. She had told me that once, as th esmoke of marujuana dragged in and out of her lips. She wanted to go up and touch every fucking star, just to make sure they were all still there,
By the time I had pulled myself from then, she was gone. Students were already packing away, eager to leave - eager to leave me, the normally far from extraordinary Mr Royce.
Mr Royce, the man who was safe in the knowledge that Faith Parker had absolutely no clue who I was.
***
I hated this dull, grey village in Wales. Every day the sky called misery - which is why I moved here from the bright, blinding lights of London. I could not be happy when I knew Faith Parker was dead.
Except she wasn't.
By seven p.m. the town was empty, silenced by winter's dark shroud. I was quite alone on the beach as I threw rocks away into the ocean and threw away my voice as I tried to scream my confusion out. It was somethingn I would have done back then, which was why the cries had a bitter edge to them. Eventually I sunk to my knees, my sobs pushing me to the pebbles and the dust as that night came back to me.
Ignoring a chorus of acerbic, mocking comments that ran around my classroom, I finally found myself shaking her hand.
'N-nice to meet you, Miss Parker.'
Faith Parker.
She said nothing, only bobbing her head shyly in greeting.
She had wanted to be an astronaut. She had told me that once, as th esmoke of marujuana dragged in and out of her lips. She wanted to go up and touch every fucking star, just to make sure they were all still there,
By the time I had pulled myself from then, she was gone. Students were already packing away, eager to leave - eager to leave me, the normally far from extraordinary Mr Royce.
Mr Royce, the man who was safe in the knowledge that Faith Parker had absolutely no clue who I was.
***
I hated this dull, grey village in Wales. Every day the sky called misery - which is why I moved here from the bright, blinding lights of London. I could not be happy when I knew Faith Parker was dead.
Except she wasn't.
By seven p.m. the town was empty, silenced by winter's dark shroud. I was quite alone on the beach as I threw rocks away into the ocean and threw away my voice as I tried to scream my confusion out. It was somethingn I would have done back then, which was why the cries had a bitter edge to them. Eventually I sunk to my knees, my sobs pushing me to the pebbles and the dust as that night came back to me.
