Mending Emerald

Preface

Note: May contain swearing and cussing!

Brandon groaned as he glared at all of his 'students'. He loved art but hated teaching these stupid camp classes. He wasn't even a real teacher! Watching a kid throw a wad of gum across the room, he grumbled, "Can you believe I volunteer my time for these worthless runts?" He crossed his arms over his chest, thinking, 'I'm no older than them. Just a year or two; I shouldn't be wasting my time here trying to teach them art. I should be training or hanging out somewhere.'
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Emerald was sitting in her summer camp art class, going through one of her favorite books. There was a lot of noise and disturbance in the class. Ignorant people were laughing and throwing papers at each other without a care in the world.

"What the hell? Why is everyone so happy about this new class?" Emerald was talking to herself while trying to read people's emotion. She knew she couldn't hear what they were actually saying because all she could hear was noises of laughter. All of the other students looked like a bunch of idiots to her.

"Idiots surround me!" she muttered, slightly lifting her book's pages. Her mind was on something else; wondering who her art teacher would be. One of the best things about art is that you can portray anything on your mind and people can't say shit about it.

Suddenly everything seemed quiet and there was complete silence. She slowly lifted her head to see what was going on.

'Shit!' She cursed herself in her head. Everyone was looking at her if as she were a criminal. She looked around to see what was going on but now those hawk eyes were glaring at her more. Suddenly she saw a man standing in front of her. Not knowing that everyone was standing to pay their wish to their art teacher, she was the only one sitting. She quickly got up, seeing that the man looked familiar.

'He's the same asshole I met a couple of days ago! Fuck no! He can't be my art teacher! He's an insane, bloody idiot!' She was still staring at him while thinking this.

Unfortunately, he seemed to hear her muttering. "Sounds like you have no manners young woman. Wait, manners? There is something called mannerism? I've never heard of such a thing. Well, it mustn't exist." He said in a rude and cold voice. His eyes were gazing into her and she was not happy to see this idiotic man again. She was only able to hear a few words because the mic in her ear wasn't loud enough.

"I am sorry, Sir," she apologized and a wave of hatred ran through her eyes. They were like sworn enemies and hatred was the only thing that could exist between them.

***

"What are your thoughts about the arts? Miss day dreamer?" Brandon asked her as if she was the only in the classroom.

"Fuck this guy! Why is he after me?" she murmured and got up from the seat. Brandon didn't like her attitude. She was like a spoiled daddy's daughter.

She stood up, clearing her throat, and faced him, "For me art is like putting image to your personality. Art is not a passion, it's your own world through which you can make anything possible." She defined it deeply as everyone began to laugh and grin at each other. The whole class looked at her like she was a psycho.

'Wow! She's actually kind of cool,' Brandon thought as he listened to what she just said. "Do you think that kind of bloody definition explains art? Are you fucking kidding me? That was total rubbish! The world is the only reality and reality doesn't exist in art." He mocked her as the classroom filled with ugly gestures and snickering.

"Empty headed people like you can only understand the simple words because deep words can't pass through to their thick-headed brain." She smiled smugly and yet again Brandon was shocked to hear an insulting answer.

Their eyes met and this was the beginning of a passionate hatred war.