Ms. WhiteRuby Sycamore, from my understanding, was a nice young girl with morals. One look at her, with her dark skin and big, curly dark hair and chocolate eyes, and you’d automatically feel at home. Not only that, but she was great in all of her classes (which, may I add, were all advanced classes). Yes, she was every teacher’s dream, including mine.Ms. White20 hours ago in Short Stories
It was sad that she was mute, though. In a way, though, it helped us get closer; I’m the sign language teacher at the school and she was enrolled in my class early. Now, during her free periods, she helps me teach the class.
At the same time, I wish I hadn’t gotten closer to her.
Toward the end of her stay at our school- Er, I’d say around a month or so before she departed- her grades had been dropping from solid 100’s to 90’s, and then to 80’s, and gradually to 70’s. The discussion during the parent-teacher conference wasn’t entirely positive.
“Mrs. Sycamore,” I started.