This short story is inspired by true events.
A StarI slip the yellow pencil between my thumb and index finger and coil my hand into a tight fist.
"Print your name in the right-hand corner," the teacher says.
My right hand is...? No, this one.
I push the tip of the pencil into the paper, carve an 'L', then a 'Y', then an 'N' and then I run out of room. I turn the paper sideways and add an 'I' and a 'D'.
I set the pencil on the desk and pick up the eraser. I press down hard and swing my arm back and forth, back and forth, back and forth. The marks are still there. I flip the paper over. This time I make the letters smaller but my name still doesn't fit. The eraser bites a hole in the paper.
"Now draw a line connecting the dots," the teacher says.
My best friend--Little Miss Pretty Face--connects dot after dot after dot and draws a star. I look down at my paper--the gray smudges, the hole.
"Please bring your papers to my desk," the teacher says.
No! I can't show My Teacher this. My stomach becomes a solid rock.
Though this story, I hope to promote awareness and understanding of dyslexia.
Recommended books that promote awareness and understanding of dyslexia.