ten

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10


VIOLA ANONYMOUS

why can't i know who you are?[2:32pm]

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why can't i know who you are?
[2:32pm]

now what's the fun in that? live a little viola
[2:33pm]

VIOLA GROANS QUIETLY, RESTING her head atop the hard wood of her desk as the listens to the monotone voice of her English teacher drone on stiffly in the back of her mind. It's a sunny afternoon, the warm heat piercing through the thin glass of the classroom and past that black blinds that offer a fine barrier between the external and artificial light.

Her phone buzzes softly in her hands and she peers down at her lap, eyebrows furrowing frustratingly as she rolls her eyes at the message that pops up on the lock screen of her mobile.

are you ignoring me buttercup?
[2:38pm]

"Viola, would you care to share why you find your lap far more interesting than my lesson?" Viola whips her head up, her face reddening in embarrassment as Ms. Walker stares menacingly in her direction. The unruly style of her black perm falls over her forehead and the slight quiver of her lower lip seems infinitely unfit for the intimidating posture she poses herself with.

"Nothing at all, sorry miss." She quietly says with a sigh, leaning her chin on her palm and cautiously passing the phone to under her thigh as students who stopped to look at her resumed listening to the awful recount of the novel they were currently studying. Viola traces the graffitied markings on her desk, some squiggles, some sketches and some things inappropriate, her teachers voice drowning out once again.

that is the world's worst nickname
[2:41pm]

well that's a little rude don't you think
[2:42pm]

it's funny that you expect more
[2:44pm]

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