The Walking Temptation
(Part i)
Friday evening, stacks of papers occupied most space of the dining table with dysfunctional pens scattered around – they are useless and their place is in the bottom of the bin not on top of the table messed around but as a person who over values things so much you decided to still keep them – even sometimes forgetting that they are completely futile and a waste of space.
It would be another long night before jumping into the void for the next two days of your life. Sadly, you have nothing lined up for the weekend unlike any other human being who's in deep longing for the weekend to finally overtake.
Oh yeah, the reason why you couldn't wait to finish them up is because you hate procrastinating. A short break from work or an hour of doing nothing you would feel sickly uncomfortable, it was as if the energy in your body to do things are doubled compare to a normal human being.
You always wanted to be as productive as possible. Getting things done way ahead of the due date earning praises from people who are yet to do their responsibilities at least a day before the deadline.
Maybe that is the main reason teaching fits you perfectly. You are well organized in most things, very diligent and passionate for what you do.
You let out a short breathy laugh, amused of what you seven year old student wrote at the end of the test paper. Shaking your head tenderly, you drew a smiley face before marking the paper with an A-
That was definitely another reason why you couldn't wait to have those papers checked. The kids' ability to make you smile even from just a small gesture is too powerful, it makes your stomach tingle and heart flutter.
The papers are arranged alphabetically with the last name basis and A to G are all done, stacking on the left side of the table while the unchecked papers remained on the opposite side. Nikkie. The paper was crisp in your hands, taking the sweet time for your gazes to sweep over the test paper. You spotted the wrong answers immediately. Carefully flipping it, there is a short moment where her breathing was cut short, an eyebrow raising up to your hairline.
Nikkie Howard is the type of kid who acts like a grown up; even speaks like one nevertheless he was a lovely kid who stood up for others. You recalled the day Nikkie got into a fight for defending the new girl in the class who was getting bullied for being the only one who has a brown skin, the girl was Asian. You adored him for that but still had to set things right.
At the back you instructed for the kids to draw their family with a short description and what the young boy drew isn't a stick figure of a perfect family like what the others did, adding magical colours, hearts with rainbows and their pets.
The boy drew a figure of her mom hugging him while on the other side are two stick figures but she couldn't quite put a finger on the idea – the image rather – of what is Nikkie trying to tell with those shaky outlines.
Then you read the short message written underneath the distorted image with an arrow pointing at it. This is Andrew and I don't like him. He hurts my mom so I decided that he isn't my dad anymore.
You gulp down hard, wetting your lips as you continue to read. I don't have the perfect family so I feel different because everyone has one maybe not perfect but still they are all together. Im still glad though because I have my mom. I will beat whoever hurts my mom.
Feeling the dryness of your mouth you freed one hand reaching out for the cup of tea that has grown cold over the time. The alignment of your thoughts faltered. Trying to ease out your mind, refocusing on grading the papers but unable to stop yourself from thinking too much about the kid's situation.
