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Freedom MAG
I stared at the rain crashing against the huge, glass classroom windows. In front of the windows was a row of green, wilting plants greatly in need of a cold drink. I could almost hear them crying out, "Sarah! Sarah! We need water. Help us, please!" I needed to help them! I needed to open the windows to save those poor, dying plants! I wanted to be a hero.
"Sarah, are you listening to me?" Back to French extra help. Ms. Middleton glared at me and clicked her teeth with disgust. "Can you stay tuned in for just ten minutes?"
I studied the floor. The big, gray tiles were dirty and cracked. I imagined myself standing up and following those gray tiles out the classroom door, down the dimly lit corridor to freedom. I would sit at the bus stop across the street and be noticed by a tall, dark man taken aback by my stunning beauty. He would be a producer, and he'd make me a star in my first movie. I'd be rich and famous and write a hundred bestsellers. And I wouldn't speak a word of French.
"Miss Ryan, if you don't pass this final exam, I'll see you in summer school! This is very important. Where would we be without French?"
Did she want an answer? I imagined Ms. Middleton lying on a bench in front of CVS, trying to keep warm under a pile of newspapers. I searched through my bag for an aspirin.
"You can do this, Sarah. You are an intelligent girl. Don't you want to be somebody important someday?"
I did want to be somebody important. I swung my book bag over my shoulder and left Ms. Middleton and her French conjugations forever. I walked down the long corridor towards freedom. I wanted to be somebody important. I wanted to be discovered by a tall producer taken aback by my stunning beauty. So I headed across the street to the bus stop. n
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