The Girl In The Back Of My French Class | Teen Ink

The Girl In The Back Of My French Class

February 7, 2011
By kcaramagno BRONZE, East Greenwich, Rhode Island
kcaramagno BRONZE, East Greenwich, Rhode Island
4 articles 0 photos 0 comments

The sun beams across the room. I am twiddling my pencil around in my
clammy hand. In the back of my mind I can hear my french teacher speaking.
Probably something important but unfortunately, I have already checked out for the
day. I placed my pencil down and glanced at the clock. Wonderful, 20 minutes left I
thought to myself. As I settled back to face the front of the room, a burst of flaming
red popped into my eye. Sitting there was someone unfamiliar. I couldn’t help but
glance again.
She sat in the corner of the room. Isolated and alone. The flowers printed on
her rain boots matched with the green cashmere sweater placed on her torso. Her hair
was tied back perfectly in a pony tail topped of with a green ribbon. Her green
sweater clashed with the red in her hair. The pearls that hung from her ears brought
her outfit together. Casual but ready for the rain. She was put together. Not a wrinkle
in her shirt nor a piece of hair wandering in a different direction. Her eyes never left
those of the teacher. All that was moving was the pencil in her
Caramagno 2
hand. Not one word was missed. She adjusted her glasses that rested on the tip of her
nose and rose her hand while she was shaking in her seat. "Um.. Excuse me.. I was
wondering what we had for homework?" The whole class turned. Who had just said
that? She was so quite that noone knew she was there. With everyone staring and
muttering around her, she wrote down the assignment. Not lifting her eyes once.
Everyone was wondering the same thing. Who was the girl in the back of the french
The bell was about to ring. She packed up her belongings in her Vera Bradley
backpack and placed it on her desk. Almost as if she was hiding behind it. Afraid to
come out. She hugged her pink binder close to her chest just waiting for the bell to
ring. Waiting and waiting and waiting. She was off. She speed walks down the
hallway not making any eye contact with her peers. Just hugging her pink binder and
looking down. I stand in the hallway with the busy rush of students around me. It is
now to late to make out what was a girl that sits in the back of my french class. The
flaming red that was once in the corner of my eye was gone.

The author's comments:
I was assigned to write a character analysis.

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This article has 1 comment.

picasso said...
on Feb. 9 2011 at 12:26 pm
Wow, left me breathless!

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