I was in my first hour class of the day at CJHS, my old school in East Peoria. Which for me, by the way, would have been math. It was a Monday as well, which is most likely the worst possible day for bad news to occur. It was a normal day, with all going as routine. Miss Braker, my math teacher, walked into the room with her usual I-don’t-feel-like-being-nice-today face as the late bell rang. Miss Braker was probably one of my least favorite teachers there, especially since she started favoring students early on in the year. As she started taking attendance, I realized with a slight worriedness that we had had homework on Friday of the last week that was due today.
Miss Braker is very strict with homework, tests, and things of that nature in school so we rarely got away with anything. However, when I finally gave up trying to write down answers as she wasn’t looking, which by the way, would have taken forever because it was on angles and measurements, I realized that the layout of the practice sheet that we did together in class the other day looked exactly identical to that of the homework sheet. …show more content…
She simply went from desk to desk, and looked for the paper and some mathematical equations on it. If all of it was there, she marked you off as a one hundred and moved on, as long as it was for a completion grade that is. Quickly and silently, I replaced the blank homework paper with the completely filled out practice sheet and covered up the top of the paper which said the words “Practice Sheet”. As she approached my desk, I got nervous, but stayed casual as I tried to act as if I was working on something else or organizing my