Last Note

• Isabella Nguyen, Grade 6
• Short Story
• 2020

Based on the real-life story of my year 4 teacher
As I walk across the schoolyard with the leaves rustling in my wake, I hear the ever echoing sound of tears in the hall. I grasp open the door knob and I can see, through the miniature crack, my relief teacher’s face. It hosts a pale, ghost-like complexion and a red nose. Walking through the door, I can see that my classroom is bearing a funeral. Easily, with its amount of tissues and the red face bearing droplets of water, I could have just walked into a funeral. I sit down on the mat and just as I place my bottom down, two students, also with teary eyed faces, hand me a formal looking note. The note is addressed to my parents so I decide against opening it. I ask one of my friends what has happened but all she does is start crying. I’m about to go up and ask the teacher but since the bell rings, it’s too late. Dismissing us, my relief teacher goes to grab her bag, and almost simultaneously, I haul mine onto my back and jog off to the car.
As I get into the car my note goes flying into the bin, and I run off to retrieve it. Today, the round metal cylinder has a bucket load of spew and too many tissues to count. As soon as I hop into the back seat of our (positively ancient) Sedan, I’m too glad that I didn’t lose the note to ask my mum about it. Busily texting when we get home I decide to leave it on the kitchen table and ask her about it during our dinner. Immediately, when I get home I decide to play some video games with my brother and just chill out! During our dinner my brother has some exciting news to share and I have homework to do after, so I forget all about today’s big news. But then when I go into bed my mind wanders off with all these over the top suggestions of what was on the note.
When I wake up in the morning it takes me about five seconds to remember what happened yesterday. My mum looks like a mess when I go out to get some breakfast so I try to avoid her, but as fate would have it, she ask for me to come to her bedroom after I finish eating. As I go and sit on her velvety duvet a shiver comes down my spine. When she comes in she makes her words short, but fatal…
“Your teacher died yesterday of a heart attack,” Mum says, as her face pours down with tears.