"Alright class, you may put your supplies away,"

I watched as she stood in front of the class to instruct everyone. I slightly smiled at her authority figure and watched as she looked around the room. When her eyes landed on me, I felt butterflies in my stomach as she smiled then turned to walk back to her desk.

I stood up to put my things away, and I made my way to the table and laid all my stuff down. I looked around and my eyes landed on Mrs. Shuler sitting at her desk. I took in her beauty as I was walking back to my chair and I ran into someone's canvas. It tumbled over and landed on the floor with a loud thud. I immediately felt my cheeks burn as I heard everyone start laughing.

Mrs. Shuler looked in my direction and I couldn't have been more embarrassed. I ignored her stares and whatever she was saying, and made my way back to my chair and sat down. I hid my face behind my canvas and waited until everyone stopped laughing.

I peeked my head from behind my canvas and looked around. Everyone wasn't paying attention to me anymore, which was a good thing. I looked over at Mrs. Shuler and she was helping one of the students pick up the canvas I knocked over. When she looked up, her eyes caught mine and I hid my face again.

Nice going, Sam.

After a minute or so, I decided to look at my painting. I couldn't help but wonder if it was good enough to turn in. I didn't really have anything to paint about today, so I just came up with something and threw it together. I wanted to trash it, but I needed a good grade, so hopefully it'll be good enough.

I looked over at Matt, who was sitting right next to me, and admired his art work. Matt was always the artistic kind, I was too, but he had a little more of an artistic bone in him than I did. He would sit for hours and draw and come up with the most amazing things. I loved watching him when he would have an idea and started painting.

I love drawing too, but I don't have time for it like he does. I have issues which restrain me from doing what I love.

Matt looks over at me and smiles. He leans to look at my art work and nods in agreement, "Looks good. I think the teacher will love it," he winks and I feel my face heat up.

Yes, Matt knows about my crush on Mrs. Shuler.

He's my best friend since elementry school, and I tell him everything. I couldn't resist not telling him about my crush on our teacher. He thinks it's cute and he's always telling me what I should do to try and get her attention, but he doesn't know that my whole being will not let me do that.

"If you weren't so clumsy when it comes to her, then maybe you'll stand a chance," he chuckled and I hid my face in my hands. He was always saying stuff to make me feel embarrassed when it comes to Mrs. Shuler.

Damn you, Matthew.

The bell rung and I couldn't have been more happier to get out of there. The embarrassment was killing me from Matt, and from everyone else. I don't know why I always act stupid around Mrs. Shuler.

I stood up with Matt and grabbed my painting to turn it in. I really hope I get a good grade on it, because I need to bring up my grades in every class. I've been slacking and it's killing me in all my classes.

I know what you're thinking; how can you fail art?

Well, it's possible, because I'm failing. I guess if you don't turn in anything, or if you don't meet the standards that it offers, then you'll get a bad grade. Art is more complicated than it seems because you have the shading, the outline, the contrast, colors, and blah blah blah.

I walk up to the front with Matt and wait until everyone is out of the way. I see Mrs. Shuler sitting at her desk, and I can feel my heart start hammering in my chest. Every time I'm near her, I get all nervous and my hands start sweating and my heart feels like it wants to beat out of my chest.

Matt shows her his canvas and she smiles at him, "That's great, Matthrew, wonderful work. You never disappoint," she smiles at him as he turns and makes his way to the table to lay his painting on. My eyes find a pair of blue eyes and I immediately feel everything in my body freeze. She smiles at me and I feel my face start burning.

"And what do you have, Samantha?" ugh. I hate my name. But somehow when she says it, it sounds so foreign.

I turn my canvas over and showed her my painting. I watch as her eyes landed on it and she smiles, which I take is a good sign, and I smile as I watch her eyes find mine. The way she looks at me, makes my whole body shut down and my heart skip a beat.

"Very good, Samantha," I smile as I make my way over to the table and lay my painting down. Matt stands there, smiling at me and I try my best to ignore him as I'm heading for the door, but he stops me. Instead, he pulls me back to Mrs. Shuler's desk and I look at him like he's the most craziest person on the earth.

"Mrs. Shuler," she looks up at us and I look at Matt as I'm trying to figure out the same thing Mrs. Shuler is probably thinking; what the hell are you doing?

"I wanted to know what our next project is going to be," I watch Mrs. Shuler as she smiles and takes out some pieces of paper. She flips through some pages and I feel like strangling Matt for dragging me into whatever he's up to.

"It looks like everyone will be doing a portrait," her eyes find mine and I look away. I can't look her in the eyes because every time I do, it feels like my heart is going to burst and I'll faint.

"A portrait of what?" I look at Matt and wonder how much trouble I would get into if I kill him in front of a teacher.

"A portrait of something or someone who inspires you," wow. Even those simple words that came out of her mouth seems so interesting, even though I could care less and why the hell was Matt so interested?

He smiles, "Thanks Mrs. Shuler," he grabs my hand and leads me out the door, but not before he screams, "Goodbye Mrs. Shuler!" as I make it out of the door. I hear him laugh as he tries to catch up with me. I ignore everyone in the hall, and try to get to my locker without getting pushed. As I make it to my locker, I look over at Matt and glare at him.

He smiles like an idiot and raises his hands up in defense, "What?" I roll my eyes and open my locker. I leave my backpack in there because it's too heavy to carry around and I don't like carrying it everywhere.

I look at Matt after I grab my backpack, "Can you not embarrass me for once?" I plead. I can't stand it when he makes me feel like an idiot around Mrs. Shuler, it's like he doesn't realize how nervous she makes me and with him constantly embarrassing me, it's adding more shit to the list.

"I'm sorry, but it's funny and cute to watch your face turn into a tomato," he chuckles and I want to hit my head on the locker multiple times until I lose conscienceness.

"It's not funny nor cute to me, so stop," I hear the whininess in my voice and it makes him chuckle more. I roll my eyes and proceed to walk down the hall, away from him. I hear his footsteps and I pray to God to give me one day without him irritating me.

We make it out the doors and it feels like I can breathe. Every time I'm in that building, it suffocates me and I don't realize how much I'm gasping for air until I step outside. I look around at everyone leaving, and think just how lucky they really are.

"Need a ride?" I look over at Matt who is staring at me, but I shake my head. He sighs and I know that he must wonder why I don't need a ride from or to school. I bet he wonders a lot about me, but I'd like to keep it that way because I couldn't risk him finding out anything. Even if he's my best friend.

"It's fine. See you tomorrow?" I ask as we stop and he nods. I watch him walk to his car and I turn in another direction to start walking. I walk through the parking lot when I hear him yell, "Hey, Sammy!" I turn to see him leaning over the top of his car, "Think about our next project, ok?" I could see the smile on his face and I ignore it. I nod, even though he probably can't see it, then head in the other direction.

The breeze is picking up, which is nice. At least it's not super hot like it's been for the last few days. It's nice for a change every now and then.

I watch as the cars go by on the road as I'm walking on the sidewalk. It's been a daily routine for me everyday after school for me to walk home. I can't remember the last time I actually had someone pick me up to take me home. It's been years. But I honestly don't mind, because I like the quietness and solitude that I get from walking alone.

I don't live far from the school. Maybe about two miles, but it's not far for me because I'm use to it. I've been use to it for three years. I've been walking home from school ever since I was a sophomore. I'm a senior now, so it's been three years.

I don't have a license because I never took my drivers test. I'm eighteen years old and don't own a car or a license, shitty right? I guess that's the disadvantage of being me. I never get what anyone else has, or anything like the other kids. I don't have a cellphone because I can't afford it, and I have no one else to get me one. I don't have the perfect life, or perfect clothes. The only thing perfect about me is my personality, I guess. I don't even think that's perfect.

I do what any other teenage girl does; come home from school, do my homework, do my chores, and etc. My chores include cleaning everything in the house because, well..

As I walk up the front porch, it makes that sqreak noise and I cringe as I try to step over the spots that are noisy. I take my key out of my bag and unlock the door. Once I step inside, I immediately wish I was back at school.

Everything is dirty like it hasn't been cleaned in years, which is a lie, because I cleaned it this morning before I left for school. It's ridiculous how a human can make such a huge mess and not clean up after theirselves. Looking around this place, you should think that it's been abadoned for years because of all the shit everywhere.

It pisses me off.

Knowing that I work my ass off on cleaning this house then having to go to school everyday just to come home and it being a complete mess again. I'm tired of it. I'm tired of everything. I'm sick and tired of living in my shitty life where nothing is perfect or nothing is like anyone else's.

I kick around a couple of cans and I feel my anger boil inside of me. There's trash everywhere, food left out, and everything is on the floor. I can't stand this shit! It takes me hours a day to clean this house, and when it's clean, it gets messy again because she doesn't fucking care enough to keep it clean.

Oh, no. She doesn't care about anything. Never had, never will. She's just a ghost in the wind because I never see her, and when I do see her, I wish I don't because she's either high or drunk. She leaves and doesn't come back until God knows when, and that's when she's the most fucked up. She can't do anything right, because she'll always choose drugs over anything else.

If you're wondering who I'm talking about, it's my sister.

I lived with her ever since I was fourteen. Our parents got a divorce when I was young, and my sister and I lived with our mom for a while until she died from cancer. Our dad moved back to Texas where his other family lives, but I guess he doesn't care enough about us to come back. I'm not even sure he knows mom died.

My mom died four years ago and I miss her everyday. She was the best and she was always supportive for my sister and I. But of course, my sister is the jealous type and she thought mom loved me more, which wasn't true. She loved both of us the same. It just seemed like she loved me more because of all the shit my sister was getting involved with.

My sister has been on drugs for years. I can't even remember when she started because I honestly think she's been doing it since she was a teenager. She's twenty five now, and she still doesn't have her life together. She never had her life together because like I said, she'll always choose drugs over anything else.

It's like drugs take over her mind, and she can't escape. She tried being sober, but she can never stay sober long enough. Drugs always find a way back into her mind and it hurts to sit back and watch her, because I know that I can't do or say anything to her or..

I decide to go ahead and clean up again. I know it won't help anything because she'll be back soon and it'll be a mess again, but I can't stand a dirty house, so I need to clean. It seems like that's all I do is clean up after my grown ass sister.

I grab a trash bag and start throwing everything away. It's ashamed to have to come home from school and do this shit. I never experienced having a normal life because I don't think I ever had one. I think up until my parents divorced, I had a some-what happy life, but it's been years and I can't remember.

As I'm cleaning up, I hear a car door slam and my heart immediately starts to race. I know that's her, because nobody else comes here. She brings her s0-called friends, but they never stay long enough. Which I'm glad of, because all of her friends are drug-heads also, and it pains me to see who she hangs out with.

I hear the front door open then shut as I'm stuffing the bag in the trash. I walk out of the kitchen and see her laying on the couch. I stand there and just watch her as I'm trying to figure out why she chooses this life. Why she chooses to be a fuck-up and not succeed. She never graduated high school, and she never went to college. She never actually held down a job. It's sad.

I ignore her then grab my backpack and run up the stairs. I know I'm making a lot of noise, but hopefully she won't be in the mood today for anything. I don't want to have to go through it everyday, because one of these days, I'm not going to be so lucky.

I shut my door as I get in and lock it. I grab a chair that I keep in my room, for this occasion, and lean it up against the doorknob. I step back and admire it for a second then walk to my bed and dump everything out of my backpack.

I examine all my junk and wonder where to start. I have so much homework, and I need to get it all done tonight. It might take me all night, but I don't care, I need all my grades to come up or else I'll fail everything. I can't have that happen.

I start on my math homework, since it's the most hated subject ever. I can't stand it, but I figure it needs to be done. I might as well get it out of the way. I open the book and grab a piece of paper out, and start doing the questions. It isn't all that hard if you pay attention, I mean math is just a bunch of numbers, of course, but it's not all that hard unless you put fractions in it then it becomes something else.

After about a minute, I hear noises and I stop what I'm doing to listen. I try to listen for anything, but I don't hear it anymore. I ignore it then go back to my work. Again, I hear it and I stop to listen. I hear footsteps and it sounds like they're on the other side of my door. I shut my book and sit there for a minute to listen. After a moment, I hear knocking on my door and my heart starts beating.

I stay where I am and listen again. The knocking turns to banging and I know it's her. I get up and walk to the door then move the chair out of the way. I take a deep breath then unlock the door and open it.

I see her standing on the other side, with half-closed eyes and she stares at me, "What are you doing?" I notice that she can barely talk and what she just asked me wasn't all that audible. I picked up bits and pieces but it was hard.

"I'm doing my homework," I really didn't want to do this right now. I had so much shit to do, and this is one of the reasons why I'm failing. She's always wanting to start something and I can never get anything done.

"I need you to do me a favor," she stood there but acted like she was about to fall over. She was so fucked up it wasn't funny, it was sad. I can't stand to see my own sister like this, but I can't do anything about it.

"I'm busy right now, Jessica," I crossed my arms and watched as she stared at me. I couldn't believe this was my own sister in front of me, it was crazy.

"What did you say?" she came closer but I backed up. "When I tell you to do something, you do it, got it?" she came into my room as I was backing up and I didn't know what to do. I knew what was about to happen, so I might as well prepare for it.

She pushed me and I fell up against my dresser. Pain shot through my back but I tried not to act like it hurt, that'll only make it worse.

She grabbed ahold of my shirt and was inches away from my face, "Do what I fucking say or I'll beat the shit out of you," ah, there it is. My honest sister. She's always so honest when it comes to this. Probably the only honest she'll be.

She leaned back to punch me in the stomach and I felt the wind get kicked out of me. I bent over and that gave her the opportunity to grab my hair and hit the back of my head against the dresser. I felt tears in my eyes as the pain was surfacing through my head. I thought I'd be used to all of this, but I guess not.

I feel onto the ground, bent over as she walked out. I leaned up and took a deep breath. It never gets any better. It's always like this and sometimes worse. I should be thankful she doesn't kill me. I keep that in mind when she's beating me so the pain isn't that bad. I'm pretty sure the pain would be ten times worse if she knew I was a lesbian.

She doesn't know, and she'll never know. I couldn't imagine what she'd do if she found out. I'm not sure if she supports gays or not, but I sure as hell don't want to find out.

I finally get the strength to stand up. I hold onto the dresser as I help myself up and to my bed. I lay there and try not to cry. I feel tears threatening to spill but I quickly wipe them away. I stare at my ceiling while trying to understand everything. Why my sister has to be that way, and why I have to live a shitty life.

I sit up and try to do the rest of my homework, while ignoring all the pain. It sucks to have to go to school like this, but I do it every time, so it's no big deal for me. It's not like I have to cover anything up, or lie about anything. Jessica usually hits me in the stomach, never the face because she knows what would happen if someone would see me. She only hits me in places that aren't visible to anyone else.

As I sit there, thinking about everything, I can't help but think about Mrs. Shuler. It seems like every time Jessica beats me, she comes to mind and it makes me feel better. She always makes me feel better even if she doesn't know it. Just her smile makes my day better, or her eyes, her lips..

I shake my thoughts away because they're going places that they shouldn't. I look down at my scattered papers on my bed and think back to when Matt asked Mrs. Shuler about our next project. She said that we'll be doing a portrait of something or someone who inspires us. I can't think of anyone who inspires me because I don't have anyone. It sure as hell isn't Jessica, if anything, she traumatizes me.

I think of Mrs. Shuler. She inspires me because she's always so loving, and caring. She has that authority figure but also that gentleness too. She has that image of a favorite teacher, because everyone in that school loves her. She's the best teacher there, and not only because she's the art teacher, because she's just fun. She's fun to be around, and she can brighten up any room she walks into.