The Teacher's Obsession

The Teacher's Obssession

I guess I'm starting fresh. I'm moving, I cant believe this, after so many years in this state. I'm leaving all I grew up on, all my friends, all my memories, everything.

Could I really do this? Could I ever make friends again like I have here? I'm shy and weird, but that's how my friends were too. Would people be different then I am? I hope I'm don't come off to reserved, or worse self-centered.

My jumbled thoughts were interrupted when my families' old car parked itself on the driveway of my new residence. I took my earphones out of my ears, pausing the piano music. Glancing to my left, I see my brother, not looking entirely happy. I mean it was his final year of high school when we moved, I wouldn't be happy either. Actually, I'm not happy either. I already miss my friends. At least for him though he has a better opportunity in getting a scholarship for his goalie skills. I have brought nothing with me, other than my mediocre knowledge of couple piano pieces.

I have played all my life, but I wasn't good enough to get a music scholarship, like my eldest brother, who was already in college. He was better at everything musically, playing several instruments and being the former drum major at his old high school. He goes to University of Florida, with a full ride scholarship for his abilities. It was a dream I could never obtain and I was secretly jealous. Who wouldn't be?

Now a few states away from my home, I now lived in North Carolina. It was a great state for soccer. I liked soccer, I played a little defense at my old school. It was entertaining and fun, but I was not amazing, therefore my skills did not compare to my other brother, the athletic one. I was just in the shadows of them, always have been.

I looked up at my new residence. It wasn't that glamorous, like a few houses we had passed on the way to our new home. But this is the type I prefer, simple and nice. It was a one story home that was painted a light yellow that seemed to highlight every aspect of the house. There was a bright green lawn in the front with a few flower beds that were growing the most brilliant colored flowers. Someone must have planted them just before they moved. There was a stone pathway that led to a few steps, which led to a greyish-purple porch. I noticed a swinging seat. I've always wanted one of those, they were perfect for reading outside when it was nice outside.

When I walked up to the flower beds, I noticed a few Ziena flowers. I choked back a sob. No, I wouldn't think about that right now. Turning away from the flowers that brought so many memories, I made my way up the steps and turned to look at the yard. I had a different perspective. The sun shone on the grass, giving off the appearance that the grass was even greener than I knew it actually was. I couldn't see the flowers because of the railing on the porch, but I didn't mind. I didn't want to see them. Looking towards the driveway, I saw the car my family drove with my father unloading a few things that didn't have to be loading on the moving truck. I noticed then that the moving truck was pulling in our driveway also.

"Mom, the truck is here" I called through the doorway.

" Be right there" she said back.

All of a sudden there was a blur in front of my face. I saw my mother walking her little steps toward the moving truck. My mom was an odd figure. With a short frame and average weight, she looked normal and even had a short brown bob on top of her small head. But I knew better then anyone, that she was very weird...and very smart, another thing I couldn't be. She got a good deal on a Job at a college nearby here. This was mostly the reason why we moved. I knew she wanted the best for me and that she loved me, but I wouldn't blame her if she blamed me. I blamed and hated myself too, for what I had done to our family.

My father was also extremely smart too. He was going to work also as a professor at the college near us. With peppered grey hair and a goofy grin, he always tried to make me laugh with his corny jokes, of which I rolled my eyes and smiled, a very small smile.

And then there was my brothers. Both good towards me but very sarcastic, of which I learned techniques from. My baby sister.... I stopped myself mid- thought.

She is gone now.

Tearing up, I turned to go inside the house, providing a distraction for my thoughts. Observing the inside of the house, I decided it was nice too. I sighed. I walked down a long hallway and entered to the first door on my right. It was a small white room that would do perfectly for me. Something would have to be done about the walls though, maybe a soft lavender. Putting down my spotted suitcase, I looked in the closet and was surprised to find it was actually pretty big. Not that it matters, I didn't have many clothes that needed to be put in the closet.

There was a week before I would start at my new school and being nervous was an understatement. I have anxiety issues, mostly social. I'm shy, and never have been good at talking to boys. I ended up always getting red in the face anytime a boy approached me, making him assume I liked him. Even if I hated his guts, this would happen. I could not get over myself. Hating this trait about me, I sighed. How would I make new friends? This is exactly why I didn't want to move away from my friends, the ones I got to know all through my life. My brother was the opposite from me, he would probably have a girlfriend by the end of the first week. I had to admit, my brothers were better looking than me also.

I walked over the a mirror that was left in the room. Brown eyes, brown hair, pale skin, normal body shape. The description of average. I had dark circles, a big nose, with small lips. Plain with a twist.

"An Ugly twist" I said out loud as I watched my face turn into a scowl.

I followed my eyes to my wrist. 5 pink scars found their way across my arm. Every mistake I made was put into the effort of creating the embarrassing lines on my wrist. I hated myself. I hated how weak I was, how plain and shy I was, I hated how I did this even with a perfect family Well almost perfect. My family. They could never know about this. Ever. I'm selfish and pity myself too much. I'm stupid for even creating those stupid marks, but I cant take what I have done away. My family would be crushed if they found out. I needed to stop, but it was an addiction. It didn't solve any of my problems and I felt guilty every time I did it, but I couldn't stop when I was mad at myself, especially when I thought of that fatal night.

People have worst lives. Mine is perfect.

I know. I can't help it though. I'm a selfish person.

When the movers came into my room to deliver the furniture, I put my suitcase in the closet and walked out of the room, so I wouldn't be in the way.

Always in the way. Always in the shadow of someone else.

" Taylor, lunch is ready" I sighed. I really did have a perfect life, didn't I? Stupid.

" Coming mother" I said.

I went into the kitchen and sat down to have a good meal.

" I noticed the Zienas out in front" I heard my mom say, trying to start a conversation.

"Mom, no, just don't" I said. I heard my mom sigh and turn her back on me, continuing to make sandwiches.

All my fault.

I held in a sob.

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When everything was settled, I laid on my bed and closed my eyes. I imagined the accident and then opened my eyes again. I couldn't think about that right now.

All my fault

I know, I know it was.

I plugged in my earphones and began to be carried away in the flowing music of the piano. Soon, I feel asleep.

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