Hello, my old and new readers!
The story you are about to read tells of a very important chapter of my life: my Italian teacher. The scenes narrated will be inspired by reality, but often wander in the imagination. The story is translated by ltalian, so please, be kind, if you'll find mistakes.

I hope that my story, my experience and my past will be liked by you all, and intrigue you. Enjoy reading. 🫶🏻💜

<<Look beyond what
you see. >>

I’m Charlotte, I’m 13 years old and I’m about to start high school, finally I would say! Middle school was literally as bad as hell, especially for the bad friendships I had, but now I can finally turn the page and start a new chapter in my life, armed with optimism and good intentions.

The entrance to school is at 09:00 am, but in the morning I preceded the alarm clock opening my eyes and jumping out of bed at 7:15 am, with about three hours of sleep.
I made my usual skin care, brushed my teeth, had breakfast and wore the outfit decided a month before.

I have not yet told you the most important thing: which school I will go to.
I chose language school.
In middle school, I’ve always done pretty well in languages, but the thing that made me choose this as high school, are the rumors about how good teachers are in this institution.

In the three previous years I haven’t been very lucky, so I just need professors that know how to do their job, that they make us laugh and, if possible, that they have a minimum of humanity. Most of all, I need teachers who don’t consider us numbers and and do not stress us more than necessary, but that they do everything possible to help us in this fateful adolescent period, which is already quite difficult as it is.

They’re finally done 08:30 am, and my mom and I are leaving the house to head to my new school.
I've been living woth her for two and a half years, since my parents abruptly separated.
The relationship with my "father" is not exactly one of the best: I spend very little time with him, and in those few moments, all he does is talking on the phone to his new girlfriend, which is kind of nerve-wracking. The thing is: I can’t do anything about it, so I try to live it without too much emotional involvement, even if my psyche suffers. Mostly because he’s just slowly pulling away from me, always hurting me a little bit more.

I am a person who is always happy, helps and listens to everyone,but my things I prefer to keep to myself; I love being a positive person in other people’s lives, it makes me happy and that’s enough for me. No one knows how much I actually suffer from this separation, as no one knows how much I felt forcef to mature not to show myself "small" or "weak" in front of people who asked me how I was, how I took this separation...
I’ve always told everyone that I’m fine, that it doesn’t do anything, but it’s always been a big lie, I just wanted a family "like everyone else".
A family with a mother and a father who love each other and who love me, but unfortunately in life not everything goes as you wish.

Fortunately, l have a mother who would do anything for me and who has always been there in moments of happiness, but above all there was in dark moments.

Now stop talking about me, excuse me for boring you.

I have been in the car for about minutes and I should arrive at moments; to alleviate the slight anxiety I feel, I listened to music and I began to imagine the teachers, the class mates, and the class. Dreaming about things before they happen is one of my favorite things to do, and it’s also a great way to make time pass faster.

As I get to school, the anxiety level is rising higher and higher, but I have to keep my emotions in check.

C'mon, Charlotte, you can do it!

When the bell rings I see quite a few students heading towards the entrance and this confusion does not allow me to orient easily, so I try to make my way among the guys going in their direction. As I wander around the classroom looking for mine, I see a woman turned around and I decide to ask her if she knows where l could find my class: the 1stD.

I guess she’s a teacher, so, with a bit of embarrassment, I say:

<<ehm... Teacher, excuse me...>>

She turns instantly and I am literally struck by her beauty.
Long hair over the shoulders brown and wavy, honey-colored eyes surrounded by a light layer of mascara and brown pencil on the eyelid, slightly large nose, but perfectly proportioned to everything else, fleshy lips covered with a nude lipstick. She has a rather slender body, she's wearing red floral pattern trousers and a white shirt.

I’ve never seen such a beautiful woman, really.

I stay about 10 seconds staring at her from bottom to top without being able to take my eyes off her, but the final blow comes when I hear her voice.

<<Tell me, Miss. >>

She tells me with all the tranquility of the world, totally confident.

I try to get a hold of myself, swallow the lump of saliva in my throat and return the wonderful smile that just made me.

Having found the calm, at least enough to talk, I finally open my mouth:

<<I wanted to ask if she...>>

Come straight from heaven!

<<If you...>>

What the hell is wrong with me?! I’m a person who talks all the time, why am I doing this now? I tell myself to take a deep breath and talk.

<<Sorry, I wanted to ask you if you knew where it is... the 1D. >>

She looks back for a moment: the corridor is empty because all the guys have disappeared in different in different directions. She lowers his torso towards me and a wave of perfume runs over me, this is where I feel faint.

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• ✒️✍️💜

Hi! This is the first story that I try to write in  and I really hope you enjoyed this first chapter. I love to read with all my heart, I do it constantly, and as a sort of due effect, I feel the need to get the words out. What better way to tell the story than between me and someone so important to me? I don’t know how many people will read this story, but I hope that at least one of these people will like what I write. Let me know what you think with a comment, if you like. ❤️💜