I don’t know what I did. Everyday I came in and unlatched my briefcase,  I saw smiles and yet I felt something. I understand now that they despised me. Everything I did. I did it for them. Eight years with the same class. And now that I think about it, I spent eight years teaching to masks. Figures of my imaginations. A fantasy. Eight years I created a life for myself, trusting in the only thing I had, my students. I walk towards the chair, my name still etched on the back. It was sitting near the curb of the street. I sat in the chair and unlatched my briefcase, then I pulled my folder and took attendance. I took the attendance, just like I did for the past eight years.