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[Mia Thompson]

Mia was tired. That seemed to be the story of her life so far. She knew why she was tired. After all, staying up late at night doesn’t help with the sleep issues. Neither did arriving early in the morning to sort out papers she had left for today. In fact, she wasn’t sure how she had in fact gotten through the day. Even for her students she hadn’t been as energetic as normal. She had received a few questions concerning her health, but had dismissed them with a wave of her hand. She was perfectly healthy.

At least, she thought she was. She just couldn’t get to sleep sometimes. There wasn’t anything life threatening about that. She usually just lay in bed all night until she finally managed to get her restless mind to sleep. By the time she would fall asleep, however, she would only have maybe two, three hours of sleep before awakening to get to school early. She hadn’t been doing this for long though, only since the day before yesterday. Now it seemed it was all catching up with her making her slow down. That was never good in Mia’s mind.

Now, it was her off period. Something she normally took to play the piano, or simply go to the faculty lounge and get some more coffee (oh how she loved coffee.) Today, however, she would use the small mat in the music library. In actual reality, it was more of a closet with shelves and just enough room to place a small mat similar to the ones used in day cares. With her petite height, she was able to lie down comfortably on the mat and get at least a thirty-minute nap. It all worked out. She quickly opened the door to the small closet keeping it open in case a student decided to come in. She always accepted students in her room. She didn’t care if they were even in her class. If someone needed a place to stay during this period, they could rest assured this was a safe place to be. Besides, it was nice to have someone to talk to sometimes.

Now, was not one of those times as she managed to unroll the mat. It was light blue in color, and a pillow was stuffed haphazardly under a stack of music that someone had left out. She groaned, moving the music onto the appropriate shelf. She plopped down onto the mat, knowing that this was going to be one awkward nap. She tried to rest her head against the pillow without messing up her hair placed in a messy bun for simplicities sake. She sighed, taking out the clip allowing long strands of red hair to splay about the pillow. She shut her eyes, hoping to sleep but doubting even the possibility just in case something came up like it always seemed to.

[Angela DeWinter]

Kat came down the hall towards the choir room her 3 inch heels clicking softly against the tiled floors as she grew closer. She had decided to hang around the choir room instead of the lunchroom. She had gained a half a pound since last week so she put herself on a regulatory diet, and being around food honestly woulnd't help the situation at all. She always liked going in the choir room anyway this class was one of her favorites. She loved to sing, and made sure that showed in the classroom.

Though lately Miss Thompson had been a bit out of it, but no one knew why. It was like something just sucked the spark out of her, but she said she was okay each time. She only half believed that, but shrugged it off as none of her concern. If she didn't want to tell then she wouldn't ask as long as she got an A she didn't care either way. Miss Thompson was well enough to teach, and that's all that really mattered to Angel.

She went inside moving over to the front of the class looking at the board though there was nothing much on it. She made her way slowly over to the piano her heels making soft clicks as she went. She sat down at it, and pulled her long black curls over her left shoulder looking down at the keys. she figured Miss Thompson was somewhere drinking coffee, grading papers, or whatever it was teachers did on their break. She ran her fingers lightly across the keys in one direction then the other the same way a child usually does.

She knew how to play, but unless there was a true need she just played on the keys. She continued to run her fingers back, and forth idly before letting out a sigh, and stretching her fingers before playing Beethoven's Moonlight sonata. It was her mother's favorite song, and she always played it to put Angel to sleep as a child. She kept playing thesong idly with a small smile on her face as her thought drifted to her mother's beutiful smiling face.

[Mia Thompson]

Mia tossed. Mia turned. Even in the most comfortable of positions it never seemed to last very long. She had done seemingly everything her mind could think of and yet she had yet to reap the results. She pulled the pillow over her face screaming softly into it. It wasn’t a loud scream to begin with, and with the pillow it was even softer but she shouldn’t have been concerned. She could do whatever she wanted. She was a teacher. The feeling of power settled in but it didn’t last quite so long as her body screamed for rest. She shut her eyes again just as she heard the piano start to play.

The thought of how the piano was being played did not register in her mind. In fact, it seemed her mind was started to drift off on it’s own. She was happy to let it do so, even as Beethoven’s Moonlight sonata started playing. That only seemed to make her mind go further back until she was on the verge of sleep. Still, she hated this point of unconsciousness for she was still fully aware of the piano playing gently in the background lulling her into said sleep. With this to concentrate on, her mind quickly wondered who was in the room playing her piano? She knew she should let it lull her into a nice deep sleep, but the teacher side of her (the side that quite frankly would be the death of her some day) insisted upon getting up off the floor and walking out into the room.

She wasn’t exactly looking completely professional. Somewhere along the line, her shoes had been taken off, and her hair was an uncombed mess after stuffing her face in the pillow to scream earlier. She rubbed her eyes in an attempt to see who was playing but she didn’t want to interrupt the beautiful song. Instead, she pulled up the three-legged stool that was always located near the door and walked up to the piano placing it next to the girl playing the piano whom she recognized as Angela DeWinter, one of her newer students despite her being a senior. She sat, watching the girl’s fingers move delicately across the piano with ease that seemingly came with practice. “You’re very good,” she commented softly with a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes.

[Angela DeWinter]

She thought she heard something, but didn't pay it any mind till she saw out of the corner of her eye a stool being pulled up by the piano. She hadn't known Ms. Thompson was in here today. Usually Angel was in, and out before she was seen, but today didn't seem to be that way. She heard her comment on the piano playing, and gave a small shrug, "I'm okay at it I guess I hate the darn thing," she said mildly.

She didn't exactly hate it though, but simply hated the thought of having to play it like she used to. Her piano teacher always used to hit her fingers with a ruler when she played a sour note, and her father would just laugh it off so whenever she played the piano after she was done she would subconciously rub her knuckles even though she didn't realise she was doing it.

Just like clockwork she started rubbing her knuckles, and fingers then glanced over at Ms. Thompson. She actually looked disheveled, and though she couldn't tell exactly from the angle she was sitting at it looked as if she didn't have any shoes on her feet. She raised an eyebrow, and tapped her index fingernail on the piano, "Umm Ms. Thompson are you sure you're okay? You look a bit.... out of it," she said for lack of a more polite word. She knew better than to be rude to her teachers if she knew nothing else.

[Mia Thompson]

She nodded at the response she got, wondering why exactly she would hate the piano. “Do you hate playing it or just hate it in general, as an instrument I mean,” she offered trying to keep with her motto of getting to know her students. This way, she felt she could pick things to the students liking, not just say you’re going to sing this whether you like it or not.

She liked input and opinions. They were good in her mind. If she hated it as an instrument, really she could do nothing to convince her otherwise. Personally, Mia thought the piano was one of the most beautiful instruments aside from the violin. She couldn’t play the violin though, which put it a step below the piano. Not a big step, but a step nonetheless.

Mia ran a hand through her hair at the comment about her health. At least, it seemed like that to her. Another concerned student was not good. True, it wasn’t good not to sleep but lately it was hard to actually do the deed. Mia sighed deciding she didn’t need to dump her problems on her student. What would she care if she wasn’t sleeping well? “I’m sure. Just a tad bit tired is all,” she waved off the question shaking her head. She briefly wondered if she had done a good enough job at covering the dark circles beneath her eyes and quickly pushed that to the back of her mind. She could worry about that later. Besides, right now she needed to cover up her tiredness with energy yet, she still couldn’t find enough of that within her. ‘I should go home,’ the thought went through her mind wondering if the principal could find a sub short notice. Her classes would understand right?

[Angela DeWinter]

Angela thought a minute on how to phrase her dislike for the piano, and couldn't think of a proper way to put it so she simply shrugged waiting a moment before she answered, "I just hate instruments in general I suppose. I had to take lessons for this, harp, and flute," she said ticking off the instruments on her fingers, "it gets rather irritating to the point where any instrument makes you wnat to hit something."

The main one Angel did like out of the three though was the harp. She loved that one because when she played that it was of her own free will. Her father never liked it saying it was an out of date instrument, but since Angela really did percieve herself as an Angel she found the harp fitting.

She really didn't believe the comment on her being fine, and simply blinked pursing her lips a bit. She had done a good job of covering the dark circles, but Angel could tell from being around teh people who did make-up on her father that she had the concealer or which meant two thing she either got hit, or she's having an insomnia attack, and Ms. Thompson didn't seem like the type to take a hit.

She turned back to hte piano playing a few notes, and said absently, "You know when I have trouble sleeping I get one of those tapes that sound like the ocean it's very calming," she didn't want to seem as if she was blatantly mentioning her sleeping problem, but rather hedged around it similar to the way her father used to do to her mom when he wanted her to change clothes.