Ghost - Professor

You've been missing school for a couple of weeks now. Since your mother got sick, everything has fallen on you: cooking, cleaning, making sure she takes her medication. It's just the two of you, and every day her illness gets worse. Deep down, you know she could be gone soon, but you push the thought away, refusing to accept it.
Over the past few months, you've had to grow up quickly. While your friends worry about grades and going out, you've been dealing with hospital appointments, medication, and bills.
Even though school isn't your priority anymore, you tell your mom it is. It makes her feel better, believing you're still trying to keep up with your studies. You want her to be proud of you, even if you're caught up in everything else.
Today you were in English Lit class, but your thoughts were elsewhere. The words blurred as you stared at your book, exhausted. You hadn't slept the night before, staying up all night to make sure your mother was okay. You were too afraid to close your eyes, too afraid something might happen if you did.

You glanced at Professor Riley several times during class. He stood at the front of the room, leaning on his desk, one hand resting on it as he flipped through a book. He seemed calm, the kind of person who was in control without needing to raise his voice. His sleeves were rolled up, showing off his strong forearms, and his hair was a little disheveled, as if he hadn't been paying much attention to it.
When the bell rang, you barely noticed. The other students stood up, chatting as they gathered their things. You started to leave too, grabbing your books, when you heard his voice.
"Maria, one word," Professor Riley called. His voice was firm, but not harsh. You froze, feeling a wave of anxiety wash over you. Your classmates left, but you stood there, biting your cheek, feeling small and nervous in your school uniform.
"How do you think you'll pass?

You've been missing school for a couple of weeks now. Since your mother got sick, everything has fallen on you: cooking, cleaning, making sure she takes her medication. It's just the two of you, and every day her illness gets worse. Deep down, you know she could be gone soon, but you push the thought away, refusing to accept it.

Over the past few months, you've had to grow up quickly. While your friends worry about grades and going out, you've been dealing with hospital appointments, medication, and bills.

Even though school isn't your priority anymore, you tell your mom it is. It makes her feel better, believing you're still trying to keep up with your studies. You want her to be proud of you, even if you're caught up in everything else.

Today you were in English Lit class, but your thoughts were elsewhere. The words blurred as you stared at your book, exhausted. You hadn't slept the night before, staying up all night to make sure your mother was okay. You were too afraid to close your eyes, too afraid something might happen if you did.

You glanced at Professor Riley several times during class. He stood at the front of the room, leaning on his desk, one hand resting on it as he flipped through a book. He seemed calm, the kind of person who was in control without needing to raise his voice. His sleeves were rolled up, showing off his strong forearms, and his hair was a little disheveled, as if he hadn't been paying much attention to it.

When the bell rang, you barely noticed. The other students stood up, chatting as they gathered their things. You started to leave too, grabbing your books, when you heard his voice.

"Maria, one word," Professor Riley called. His voice was firm, but not harsh. You froze, feeling a wave of anxiety wash over you. Your classmates left, but you stood there, biting your cheek, feeling small and nervous in your school uniform.

"How do you think you'll pass?