You're the Sub

In a cognizant effort to focus on my writing, I purchased a Daily Spark book over the weekend from Barnes and Nobel.

I realize that I am not a traditional student who needs daily writing ideas at school.  However, I think I'll try out the topics when I'm feeling in the mood to write but have no clue where to start.

Today's topic: 
You're the Sub
Write a two-paragraph story about a day in class in the first person (using the pronoun "I) from the point of view of the last substitute teacher you had.

The moment I step inside Edward Snow Elementary School I am warmed by the familiar crayon/dirt/tempera paint smells permeating from the classrooms.  I am completely aware that I am in a state of nostalgia as I round the hallways plastered with student artwork and prose.  Oh!  There is the library!  Surrounded by that beautiful children's book mural.  Oh, I loved being a library helper; learning the card catalog and sorting in alphabetical and numeric order.  There is such organization and beauty in each shelf of books.  Turning the corner, I pause for a moment at the "Star of the Month" bulletin board, and grit my teeth together as I see an awkward picture of a little girl with permed hair and glasses.  I take a deep breath, fill my lungs, and hope that my exhale will drive out my ever increasing anxiety.

No matter how hard I try, I cannot stop my eyes from looking to the right and peering through the floor-to-ceiling glass windows at the one place I can never forget: the playground.  Such a happy name for such an evil place.  Girls, with perfect little figures, jumping rope or sharing a secret or smiling as they swing together.  Boys, with their goofy grins, playing ball or climbing the jungle gym or playing capture the flag.  But there she is: the little girl with the permed hair and glasses.  She is standing alone and looking hopeful at her watch.  Just waiting for the bell to ring and school to start.  Just waiting for the names to stop and the nasty words to be silenced.  Just waiting for her time to shine and for the dullness of her beauty to finally bloom.  Just waiting.  Just waiting.