a broken stage ( part 2 )

I thought it would be difficult. It was my first time failing on the stage. It was deliberate. And yet, I felt nothing. No one said a thing about it. Not even Miss Agnes. That, I found surprising.

Miss Agnes wasn't skimpy with her words when she was insisting I perform. It was my duty toward the school, she said. She was a good teacher, and I liked her. I thought she liked me too, even if I wasn't the best student. And so, even if it wasn't a great performance, I was sure she would tell me I was fine. I actually looked for her after leaving the stage. I didn't find her anywhere near.

That was the evening something cracked inside me. I believed teachers were better than that. Never could it occur to me that a teacher would use a student for her purpose and then discard him after. But that was exactly how I felt. Used and discarded. Not for a moment did I wonder if she would have acted different had my performance been better. That shouldn't matter. I realised two things that evening. I was a bad student. And Miss Agnes was a terrible teacher.

I swore that would be the last time I performed at school. I had no idea it would also be the last time anyone from school would hear me perform.