Neemah had gotten very good at tying knots, A few weeks ago she had used a bundle of brightly colored yarn balls to teach the children arts and crafts. Soon, she had started going back to the supply cupboard to cut bits and pieces of the last unused ball of yarn. She absent mindedly tied knots when the children were having nap time or engaged in some other activity that didnt require her attention.
Two days ago; as she was leaving her classroom after the kids had been picked up, Neemah passed by the supply cupboard and thought of the now quickly diminishing ball of yarn, she took it. It had been in her bag ever since, the drawer beside her bed was even now littered with little knots. They were starting to look like nooses.
She was tying them now as Dalton walked to her on his small, chubby legs
She looked up. Her dark, almost black eyes were a sharp contrast to his blue, almost gray ones. His voice was small and quiet even for a child
‘Yes Dalton?’ she said gently ruffling the boy’s wispy blond hair ‘Have you finished your story book?’
‘Yes miss, can i have another one?’
Neemah smiled and handed the boy a book from the stack on her desk. He waddled away.
Sighing, she glanced at the other children who were studiously sounding out four letter words off colored pages about mice and dogs and imaginary cherubic little boys and girls.
The children adored her and she them, but not enough for them to give her hope, true hope. Her heart was heavy and empty all at once, it would never be enough.
Later that night, Neemah’s landlord found her limp and swinging from the ceiling fan.
She had gotten quite good at tying the knots.