Sample Entry 1: ((Assuming she is a Spanish teacher at the high school for this))
[Phone - Unfiltered]
For those in my class, I just finished grading the papers from the last chapter. Did the person teaching this class before me even speak Spanish? Wait, no, don’t answer that. I don’t want to be told that I’ve always been the teacher. We’ll just pretend I have suddenly remembered how to speak Spanish.
Let’s cover a few things. First, if you’re saying ‘my spouse’, it’s ‘mi esposo’, not ‘mi esbozo’. Don’t think I didn’t catch that today. Clever, but you still got a point off.
Also, ‘bucket’ is ‘cubo’, not ‘culo’. That one is important. Very important. Do not say ‘¿Puede usted darme ese culo?’. Ever.
[Papers shuffle in the background.]
Finally, anyone more than three minutes late for class will be singing ‘I’m a Little Teapot’ for the rest of the group. With motions. Hopefully this will encourage everyone to show up on time. Complaints can be submitted in writing, in Spanish, on my desk.
Sample Entry 2:
[Action]
[It was the pictures on the walls that really creeped her out. The pictures showing her in this life that she had no memory of. This wasn’t her family, she didn’t know these people, but there was the evidence in adorable frames along the staircase. She stood in front of the picture of her wedding, studying the man across from her. In the picture, she was smiling. She looked happy.
She wanted to go home. She wanted to see her own family and not play pretend with these strangers any longer. Her grandmother’s cooking, her father’s booming laugh, even her younger brother storming up the stairs with all of his lacrosse gear banging against the wall. If she couldn’t have that, she would take her little speck of an apartment with her bike hanging from the ceiling and threatening to smack the unwary in the head. She wanted to see Brad sprawled on her couch with some incomprehensible math problem. She longed for James to drop in to check on her and share pizza while they gossiped about mutual friends and he nagged her about practice. Even his voice in her mind, warm and green while he commented on whatever she was doing.
Instead, she was here. She rubbed her temples, leaning against the staircase railing and closing her eyes so she didn’t have to see those pictures. Her life had been flipped upside down once before, leaving her to play pretend. She’d hated it then, and she hated it even more now. She was no longer a mage, her abilities stripped away, but this was still a lie. This was not her husband and these were not her children. No matter what anyone said, none of this was real.
A voice called from the back door.]
Caroline! Are you home?
[The young woman pulled herself back together, shaking out her shoulders and pushing the melancholy away. It didn’t change anything to dwell on things like this.]
I’m here! I’ll be right down, thanks for coming by. I really can’t figure out what’s wrong with the stove.
[She jogged down the staircase to greet her guest and get on with the act.]
Re: Caroline Martinez || OC || Not Reserved
((Assuming she is a Spanish teacher at the high school for this))
[Phone - Unfiltered]
For those in my class, I just finished grading the papers from the last chapter. Did the person teaching this class before me even speak Spanish? Wait, no, don’t answer that. I don’t want to be told that I’ve always been the teacher. We’ll just pretend I have suddenly remembered how to speak Spanish.
Let’s cover a few things. First, if you’re saying ‘my spouse’, it’s ‘mi esposo’, not ‘mi esbozo’. Don’t think I didn’t catch that today. Clever, but you still got a point off.
Also, ‘bucket’ is ‘cubo’, not ‘culo’. That one is important. Very important. Do not say ‘¿Puede usted darme ese culo?’. Ever.
[Papers shuffle in the background.]
Finally, anyone more than three minutes late for class will be singing ‘I’m a Little Teapot’ for the rest of the group. With motions. Hopefully this will encourage everyone to show up on time. Complaints can be submitted in writing, in Spanish, on my desk.
Sample Entry 2:
[Action]
[It was the pictures on the walls that really creeped her out. The pictures showing her in this life that she had no memory of. This wasn’t her family, she didn’t know these people, but there was the evidence in adorable frames along the staircase. She stood in front of the picture of her wedding, studying the man across from her. In the picture, she was smiling. She looked happy.
She wanted to go home. She wanted to see her own family and not play pretend with these strangers any longer. Her grandmother’s cooking, her father’s booming laugh, even her younger brother storming up the stairs with all of his lacrosse gear banging against the wall. If she couldn’t have that, she would take her little speck of an apartment with her bike hanging from the ceiling and threatening to smack the unwary in the head. She wanted to see Brad sprawled on her couch with some incomprehensible math problem. She longed for James to drop in to check on her and share pizza while they gossiped about mutual friends and he nagged her about practice. Even his voice in her mind, warm and green while he commented on whatever she was doing.
Instead, she was here. She rubbed her temples, leaning against the staircase railing and closing her eyes so she didn’t have to see those pictures. Her life had been flipped upside down once before, leaving her to play pretend. She’d hated it then, and she hated it even more now. She was no longer a mage, her abilities stripped away, but this was still a lie. This was not her husband and these were not her children. No matter what anyone said, none of this was real.
A voice called from the back door.]
Caroline! Are you home?
[The young woman pulled herself back together, shaking out her shoulders and pushing the melancholy away. It didn’t change anything to dwell on things like this.]
I’m here! I’ll be right down, thanks for coming by. I really can’t figure out what’s wrong with the stove.
[She jogged down the staircase to greet her guest and get on with the act.]