Post by MORGAN ANNABELLE HOLLOWAY on Jul 7, 2010 2:39:17 GMT -5
Her heart raced more as he told her she had to learnt he skills. Her eyes saddened and she inhaled, looking at the students before turning back. "No, no. I can talk... just fine to everyone. Just... I... I don't... " She looked down at her belly and sighed. "I don't... I mean... I'm not... able to..." She stuttered slightly. She felt herself beginning a minor panic attack. She couldn't do something like this. Not pregnant, at least. Had she been her normal thin self, she would be first to volunteer and she'd jump up and read pages and pages of her stories. But this was different.
People didn't see the real Morgan. People didn't look past her belly button.
She felt her hormones take over. Morgan looked at the ground, still leaning against the desk and breathed in deeply. She really didn't want to be in front of everyone. Of anyone, really. She closed her eyes and gathered herself for a moment before standing upright. "...Guess I should start, then..." Her voice was very low, and crushed. She knew she shouldn't argue with the teacher but talking in front of everyone who she knew had already spread rumors about her and her babies just got to her.
Morgan slowly turned and waddled over to her desk, pausing a moment and looking around anxiously. A couple of kids turned away and she looked down at her sketch. Slowly, she shut the sketch book and sat down, opening her spiral past the notes. Her notes were scribbled neatly in a format only she could really read. To anyone it would just look like she splattered them on a page.
But in reality, she was OCD about how she did her notes. She had to have them alphabetically by the rules, then alphabetically by the rules' rules.
Morgan looked over at one girl who had been staring at her the most. "Are you really pregnant?" The girl leaned closer. Morgan stared for a moment before glancing at the teacher, then back at her. Her mouth was slightly agape in disbelief. "Um... yes..." She looked back down at her paper before the girl spoke again. who is the father? does he go here?" Morgan paused her writing and looked back at the girl, her brows slightly furrowed. "Um, no... He's... He's graduated." She spoke quietly, but tended back to her work. What did your parents think?" The question made Morgan press her pencil so hard into the paper it snapped. She closed her eyes and sighed. "My parents are dead." Her voice was loud enough for almost everyone in the classroom to hear.
She looked at the stunned girl as she stood up, grabbing her things and walking to the other side of the room to the only other empty desk. Surprisingly, she could see the teacher much more clear. Morgan kind of liked doing that - switching seats and looking at the different angles of the classroom, differed perspectives.
[/size]People didn't see the real Morgan. People didn't look past her belly button.
She felt her hormones take over. Morgan looked at the ground, still leaning against the desk and breathed in deeply. She really didn't want to be in front of everyone. Of anyone, really. She closed her eyes and gathered herself for a moment before standing upright. "...Guess I should start, then..." Her voice was very low, and crushed. She knew she shouldn't argue with the teacher but talking in front of everyone who she knew had already spread rumors about her and her babies just got to her.
Morgan slowly turned and waddled over to her desk, pausing a moment and looking around anxiously. A couple of kids turned away and she looked down at her sketch. Slowly, she shut the sketch book and sat down, opening her spiral past the notes. Her notes were scribbled neatly in a format only she could really read. To anyone it would just look like she splattered them on a page.
But in reality, she was OCD about how she did her notes. She had to have them alphabetically by the rules, then alphabetically by the rules' rules.
Morgan looked over at one girl who had been staring at her the most. "Are you really pregnant?" The girl leaned closer. Morgan stared for a moment before glancing at the teacher, then back at her. Her mouth was slightly agape in disbelief. "Um... yes..." She looked back down at her paper before the girl spoke again. who is the father? does he go here?" Morgan paused her writing and looked back at the girl, her brows slightly furrowed. "Um, no... He's... He's graduated." She spoke quietly, but tended back to her work. What did your parents think?" The question made Morgan press her pencil so hard into the paper it snapped. She closed her eyes and sighed. "My parents are dead." Her voice was loud enough for almost everyone in the classroom to hear.
She looked at the stunned girl as she stood up, grabbing her things and walking to the other side of the room to the only other empty desk. Surprisingly, she could see the teacher much more clear. Morgan kind of liked doing that - switching seats and looking at the different angles of the classroom, differed perspectives.
