Freewrite Hosted by @mariannewest: Burning

Once upon a time I was a High School English Teacher.

I used to do anything to get my students to write.

Freewrites were included. And they were always labeled "fiction."

The freewrites did not have prompts like ours, the students simply had time, and paper, and a writing utensil. They wrote what came to mind. Sometimes they doodled, sometimes they wrote letters to their friends. Sometimes they told me stories.

One story that haunts me was about a student whose house burnt down. Her grandpa caught on fire. Her mom went back in to save him. They were both severely hurt. The grandpa died.

I remember that day. She insisted on reading the story out loud. I didn't know what the story contained, but the writer was excited so I let her.

As she was reading to the class, they were a bit in shock. A little quiet. Weird for the group. Here was this pierced, green haired, no shoe wearing girl, who liked to sing in the halls, baring her soul. I was still.

And then from the back of the classroom came howling laughter.

It was the girls niece. They had a large family and Auntie and Niece were the same age, and in the same classroom. Both my students, so different, but so close.

And the girl was laughing so hard she was crying.

"You are so stupid!" she shrieked.

And then the writer started laughing too.

And then we all started laughing. It must have been a joke or a something, because why would the niece laugh?

Months later I met the Mother.

She had burn marks on her arms.

Maybe its best I no longer teach.

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This was my response to @mariannewest's daily freewrite prompt. Thank you for stopping by.

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