Eight-thirty Aspiration

"Okay everyone, thank you." I point to my watch. It reads 8:30pm. "Good job today, have a good weekend!" "Thanks teacher, have good weekend!" I stand up from sitting in a very comfortable chair and walk to my desk. "Clang clang," the sounds of chairs being put on students' desks. I begin sorting out my papers. "Here teacher." He hands me his homework. "Thank you Jet."  We smile. I stack my papers and books together. I look up, "Bye bye everybody." "See you teacher," some students said waving goodbye to me. The door closes. Silence creeps in. All I hear is me putting students' homework papers in my bag, books thrown in another bag I leave at work, and chalk pieces falling on the floor. I finally look at my hands and they are full of bright orange, yellow and pink colors. I chuckle silently. I erase the board as chalk dust creates a cloud around me. I sneeze, and realize the cloud left its mark on my black vest. I don't mind. I walk back to the desk, take another gulp of, now cold, tea, hold the empty cup, grab my coat, bag of books, and strap my bag on my shoulder. I get to the door, place my hand on the handle, and suddenly feel the urge to stop. I look back at the desks, chairs, and board. "I want my own classroom," I said to myself. I smile, take a deep breath and turn off the lights. I close the door behind me, and walk down the school hallway emotionally in silence.