The last day of school was half-way over now. I was sitting with Orleans as our teacher assigned fun activities, and we had a fun little party. As all of the other kids, including me, danced around to the music, Orleans just sat there, her face red and scrunched. I continued dancing, but never took my eyes off her. Why would she be like that on the last day of school? I felt sorrow for her, and soon I started crying. I didn't know why, for I didn't feel sadness for her at this moment, but just plain sadness. I walked over to her and sat next to her.
She looked like she was about to wail at any second. My tears worsened.
"Are you alright?" I croaked through my sad-struck voice. I looked at the rest of the crowd in the classroom. Some of the other students looked a little teary. "Why are you crying?" I asked again. "Why is everyone crying?" Orleans wiped her face, dripping with tears.
" It's just that time of day." She sniffled. When I noticed her tears, they weren't clear, like normal tears. They were a gorgeous shade of blue. Everyone else in the room was really close to balling their eyes out.
Orleans' cheeks turned red. Her face was dry like there were no tears at all. She smiled at me with the most cheerful expression on her face. She was back to her old self. I looked at the other students in the classroom and they seemed fine, like the crying never happened.
"What was that?" I asked, "Why was everyone crying?" Orleans' smile became her normal expression.
"It's out my control." She said, and walked into the crowd of students and started dancing.
I wondered what that was, why everyone was crying, and why a cheerful person like Orleans would be crying in the first place. I shrugged it off and continued dancing in the center of the room. In a few minutes, the dance party ended, and we just had a free time. I decided to ask the teacher if I could go to the bathroom, but I was actually planning on walking around the school, because none of the activities interested me.
As I turned around the corner from the sixth-grade wing, I saw the empty wall near the hallway to the gym. Before the holiday break, there was a mural with stuff about no bullying, respecting others, always take care of yourself, eat healthy and stuff that a school would usually have, and stuff that Wyatt would definitely disobey to. But after the break it was blank, empty with a thick coat of beige paint. The school walls were already bland enough. I stared at the wall and images of my own mural were flooding my head. I imagined a mural with all colors, spreading like wines across the wall. I closed my eyes and imagined motion. I stroked my hand across the wall and imagined myself painting my mural. I opened my eyes and there was nothing but a blank wall. I leaned against the wall in annoyance. The artistic vision was still running through my mind as I walked back to my classroom.
1:30, 1:45, 1:50.
The school day was almost over. 2:00 was so close.
1:55. Summer was so close!!!
1:57. At two of, everyone gathered outside in the sixth grade wing around the main clock near the open area in the center. When there were twenty seconds left, everyone was prepared to start counting down, like winter had returned and the new year was close.
"Ten! Nine! Eight! Seven! Six! FIVE! FOUR! THREE! TWO! ONE! SCHOOL'S OUT!!!!!!!!" Everyone screamed and cheered. Orleans and I were jumping around with joy.
Everyone charged out the school before the teachers could yell "No running!"
I waited in the pick-up line as I watched Orleans board the bus. I got into the car as it pulled up. Flower was driving it, as usual. She had light blonde hair, grey eyes and rosy cheeks. I got in and sat in the back.
"How was your last day of school?" She asked
"Good," I said. We drove away from the school as I looked out the window and pondered the the tears at school today. And I had the entire summer to ponder.
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