Chapter Eleven

In the next class math, I took out my study guide and wrote down some notes on different parts of it. The test was tomorrow and I had been distracted lately causing me to forget to study at home.

Luckily, the teacher exclaimed that it was a work or study day. She provided some practice sheets for us, hoping we would use them.

My pencil slowly writes out the equation, but drifts off creating a little squiggly line as I remember a distant memory.

Mother was teaching me adding and subtracting. And one day when she came home from work there was some light purple on some areas of her forehead. I remember touching the area and feeling her wince a bit.

"Momma, are you hurt?" I asked with worry in my eyes.

"Mommy just hit her head. Nothing to worry about suger." She patted my head with a gentle smile.

"Then let me make it better. It needs a kiss."

Momma let me kiss it better with some kisses along her forehead.

"It feels better already," she said with a wide smile and gave me a peck on the forehead.

"Ok, so what four plus four?"

"Eight."

"That's right, now what's eight minus five?"

"Three." I held up three fingers as well.

"I see you been studying the sheet I gave you. Momma's so proud." She moved my bangs aside with a proud smile.

I let out a giggle before going quiet as we both hear the front door open. Father is home early.

Momma instructed softly for me to work on this workbook she took out from her purse.

"Thank you, momma," I whispered quickly and retreated to my room.

Opening the large book filled with adding and subtracting as well as multipcation and division equations. I start with some adding, immersing myself into it.

Many days and many nights I spend in my room working on the problems while mom and dad always talk in the living room.

I finished earlier than expected, my mother told to to doodle till she brought me a new one. Weeks pasted by and I doodled patently. Her hair had more stands sticking out and her clothes became more stained.

I broke from the memory when the teacher spoke about a handout we'd need to finish for tomorrow.

Moving my pencil to the paper handout, I quickly scribbled my name and began the first problem. Throughout a few more problems I find myself remembering a different memory.

My father was speaking to my mother in the living room. I could hear them through my door as I flip through my math book full of doodles in the margins.

"Why spend money on this?" My father spoke.

"So our daughter can learn."

"Bahh! Learn? All she needs to learn is to be pretty." There is a thud that hits the floor making me jump.

Sighing he spoke, "Nevermind, a few books wouldn't hurt."

My mother came into my room after, handing me a new math book. I smiled and thanked her before she left.

I stared down at my new math book with a frown, wondering why father disliked it.