The Lost One's Weeping (Caitlin)

All Mindcrack teachers were given this article about me in the newspaper. The article called me "such an inspiration" for "aspiring to be a great musician." Well, I am aspiring to be a great musician . I am not truly "great" yet and am not sure if I ever well be. However, I read further and found lines that either baffled or disgusted me. The journalists never asked my students how they felt about having a disabled teacher. I'm sure Alex or even Adrian would have readily volunteered information! Even worse, they didn't even interview any people from Mindcrack. They just asked the Havencraft High School director for information about me. It's kind of like how Emmeline's chemistry teacher kept pronouncing her name as "Emma-lin" when she said her name is pronounced "Emma-leen". I can't believe the Minecraft Times would publish this unprofessional piece of Ender Dragon dung.

Meanwhile, Steve was laughing and facepalming at the article while pointing out absurdly-worded tidbits. The article used the word "inspiration" about 50 times. Some of the science teachers were shaking their heads. The English teachers were revolted and refused to read it after the first paragraph. A combat teacher pinned their copy to the wall and shot arrows through it. The only one who liked it was a math teacher who fake-congratulated me on getting a promotion in the orchestra.
 
Yep. It never ended. Even teachers were snotty high school girls. What kind of example does that set?  I felt sorry for Mrs. Platt's students to be honest, having their perspectives forcibly narrowed by an authority figure appointed for their intellectual edification. I saw how her students were after they left her class. Even those who loved math left disheartened and disappointed in their passion. Those who hated math were made to feel stupid and useless even though, if she had even bothered to notice that her students had lives outside of math class, that was far from true.

Fuming, I shifted my attention the meeting. Alisha took the time to point me out and asked for our opinions on the article. Mrs. Platt said it was good that inclusion was happening and that she didn't know how someone like me could do it. I could hear the saccharine undertones ringing in her voice. Steve and I exchanged a knowing glance. At this progress meeting, we had to state things such as our class averages and notable comments from student evaluations. Mrs. Platt volunteered to go after the English department presented their cases. Most of their students did not like essays. Others did. The third block classes wanted a snack time.
          "My class average is a 94%, but that's unacceptable because that puts us 4th from the top." Phooey. Who cares what your class average is? I want to know if your students feel fulfilled! The only comment that really stood out was from Kyle Escalona who said that the class gave him the final push to want to die, but she dismissed him as, and I quote, "a lazy, stupid good for nothing." NOT true. His gift for encouraging others is one Mindcrack needs. He aides for me. One of my sixth graders started crying in class and Kyle stepped in to offer his comfort.

This incident made me think of Lost One's Weeping. I saw the tears in Kyle's eyes as he was grading assignments for me. I should have said something. I was glad, however, that he was getting help. The meeting continued on with the fine arts department presentations. The orchestra recording of Rolling Girl was very violin-heavy; Lost One's Weeping lacked confidence in the percussion part.

And why was that? Because some people plug their ears at the lost one's weeping.

Caitlin's Student (Anna)

The town of Helgen was in pieces, I have heard.  Falkreath's graveyard was expanding more and more, especially due to the recent civil war. Crossing my fingers that the Last Dragonborn would defeat Alduin the World-Eater, I made my way through the Hold with a heavy heart and a contemplative conscience. Something told me this would be a rough era for everyone, disorderly and destructive. Then, a random guy in blue tore across the landscape, interrupting my thoughts. He was very tall and athletic and his full diamond armor went clank, clank, clank as he ran.

A red-haired girl of about eleven ran frantically over to me. A half-eaten baguette in one hand, she asked a question for me, something I never expected.
           "Vous connaissez Monsieur Velothi?" I did, as a matter of fact. He was one of my friends.
           "Oui. Porquoi?" I didn't know what this girl wanted with Valan. I looked at her carefully. She didn't look like a Breton or even like she was from our universe. However, her brilliant green eyes were anything but human. She looked excited and ready to explode.
           "Mon copain Adrian a besoin de parler avec Monsieur Velothi." She held out a notepad for me which had a neon purple gel pen attached. I handed it to Farkas. He was much better at exchanging information than I was. The little red-haired girl ran off thanking us. I just hoped the skeletons weren't hungry for bread. Juliette came up from behind me.
          "Was that Alex?"
          "No idea."
          "Yeah. This Caitlin keeps talking about her private student, Alex. To be honest, she fits the description to a T."
          "Lively, intelligent, and usually asking for random things?"
          "That's Alex!" How does Caitlin even put up with this little ball of energy? She must be a very good teacher if she can subdue Alex enough to hit a pitch...or two...or ten. That and she manages rooms full of sixth graders! I can barely keep my dragons under control sometimes.

(A/N: Alex is cute, isn't she?)

Why Not, I Don't Know (Steve)

Back with the band, things were just not the same. Andreas's flute playing was halfhearted. Without Mira, the flute section did not possess its natural life. Absent of Kyle's jokes and charming appeal, the band room was dismal and somber. Everyone else seemed to feel his absence like a black cloud looming overhead. I could tell their hearts just weren't in the music. They were troubled deeply as I was.

I told a doctor in the hospital how I feel worthless and useless and like I should die. He just said it was a "natural reaction to chronic illness" and that I should quit my job as a band director. Well, that was helpful! I can't quit on my band. The band was keeping me alive despite the fact that I wanted to do nothing else. I loved my kids and their sounds. My beginners' smiles knowing they just played their first scale was an anesthetic for my pain, but it faded quickly.

Our next concert was a vocaloid-themed concert. It was time that Mindcrack's students got some real musical challenges and vocaloid provided just that. The orchestra was playing Rolling Girl, the choir was performing World's End Dancehall, and the band was playing Lost One's Weeping. Dance, as far as I knew, was performing Outer Science. Austin had to cover Kyle's part for Lost One's Weeping and Rolling Girl. He was a good musician, but it just wasn't the same without Kyle. What Austin had in technique he lacked in passion. We might as well use a drum machine.

Not only did we lack an excellent musician, but Mindcrack lacked an excellent person. It was frequently that I saw him encouraging other students to do their best regardless of whether they were sixth graders or seniors. One of my seventh grade trumpeters, Alice, was upset because she didn't make it into youth orchestra. Though not especially talented, her work ethic was unrivaled among the middle school band. She lapsed into apathy and laziness after rejection. It was Kyle who helped her get back on her feet and back into music. He had a gift for encouraging others. I held back tears at the thought of him wanting to die. The band wasn't a band without him.

Havencraft High School drama students were performing Reboot using the band and orchestra as background music. Emmeline was one of the leads. She was playing the girl with green hair. Somehow, I did not think it suited her, but Emmeline is not one to play a part halfheartedly whether it's her volleyball kills, tenor sax music, running in track, or...acting?

The sort of a band played Lost One's Weeping apathetically and confusedly. The trumpets fracked a lot. The flutes were all out of tune. The percussion was way off. Everything fell apart in a matter of seconds. Maybe they didn't need me as I thought they did. Another director would be better for them, anyone but me.

When the high school students left, I listened to some vocaloid music. The song Abstract Nonsense came on. Rin's voice carried the feelings I was trying to hide. A sword would be in my chest if not for my fear of suffering. No one knew I felt this way, not even Caitlin. I feared what would happen to her if she found out. I found a list of names for next year's beginning band, the band I feared I wouldn't live to teach:

• Albright, Caitlyn
• Castellanos, Felix 
• Fessler, Zoie 
• Hiyashida, Kaito 
• Miller, Stephen
• Murakami, Kiyoshi
• Paik, Aisha
• Roth, Adrian 
• Rowe, Adrienne (This is going to get really confusing.)
• Soulard, Nathalie 
• Vincent-Dupont, Alexandria
• Yamamoto, Jiro

I skimmed through my other rosters. Seconds turned to minutes, minutes to hours, and hours to days. I turned to mending a trumpet's stuck valve, a flute's screw, and a guitar's string. Even hearing Emilia's progress did not brighten my heart. The leftover spaghetti from last night tasted like ashes mixed with glue.

I was indifferent to the sound of a trumpet fanfare, something that would ordinarily make me feel this transcendent euphoria unlike anything else. Everyone who expressed their concern I said I was fine although I wasn't. Why not, I don't know.