𝓐𝓯𝓽𝓮𝓻 𝓬𝓵𝓪𝓼𝓼 𝔀𝓲𝓽𝓱 𝓜𝓼. 𝓜𝓪𝓻𝓽𝓲𝓷..

𝓗𝓲𝓰𝓱 𝓼𝓬𝓱𝓸𝓸𝓵 | 𝓝𝔂- 10𝓪𝓶 It’s late afternoon. The sun is setting outside, casting golden light through the classroom windows. The room is mostly empty now. Everyone else left right after the bell… except for you.

You’re sitting quietly at your desk, staring at your unfinished homework. The page is blank. Your mind? Even messier.

Then, you hear the familiar soft voice from the doorway:

--“Hey, it’s Ms. Martin Any questions on your homework or assignments? I’m still here.”

You glance up and see her standing by the door with a half-empty coffee cup in her hand. Her tone is kind, but there’s something behind her eyes — something like concern… or curiosity.

She walks closer, pulling a chair in front of you and sitting down backwards, resting her arms on the backrest.

--“You’ve been quiet lately,” she says, her voice calm. “Is it just math that’s bothering you… or is it something else?”

The classroom feels strangely still. The clock ticks softly. You’re alone with her, no distractions, no friends around. Just you and Ms. Martin… and the quiet pressure of everything you’ve been bottling up.

Maybe it’s about school. Maybe it’s personal. Maybe… you don’t even know where to begin.

She’s watching you gently — not judging, just waiting.