Marcy's Vision

"Ring, Ring", rang the school bell. Some kids sighed, they knew class was about to start and today was testing day. The TACT test was to see if you were ready for the next grade. It was separated into three sections, Math, English, and a writing prompt. Hinesburg Elementary had grades first through sixth grade, and Marcy was in fifth grade moving on to sixth grade after the summer was over. She was talented in Math, knew her fractions and multiplication and division problems well, but she lacked focus in writing. It was something she never found joy in so most of her writing prompts were just a few quick paragraphs that seemed to sometimes go together. A tutor had been helping her to learn her verbs and adjectives, but if she could write the story in a mathematical code that would have been easier and more exciting for her.

Marcy did not speak much and her parents were worried because she seemed to have taken longer than most babies to utter her first word. But when she finally did it was, "fraction". Who or where she heard this word her parents had no clue.

Her chosen seat was always in the back, as it was the best spot to hide from the teachers asking questions and picking on kids. Today however no questions would be asked as the full day would be the TACT test. Relieved to know there would be no talking, she happily took the test as the teacher handed them out and began on the math section of the workbook.

"So easy", she thought in her head while her eyes seemed to sparkle from seeing all the numbers. Speaking in her head was no issue but forming the words seemed to be and it had been a topic in the meetings with her parents and teachers over the years. "Why do I need to speak when computers speak in binary code of one's and zero's' ', she had wondered during one of those boring meetings in the counselor's office.

Finishing up on the math part, hoping it had lasted longer she looked dreadfully at the writing prompt. English was not as tiresome but she thought better to get the writing over with. She glanced at the prompt topic.

"Write a four paragraph story about a time when you spent an exciting day with family."

"Ugh", she thought as her shoulders shrunk low. Mrs. Pating made a noise from her chair as she got up and Marcy looked up at her. She began to stare at her as if she was hooked on her movements. The teacher had walked over to the side of the room where they stored colorful papers for projects and was shuffling through some. Marcy began to see images of a young girl with her parents.

They had a basket and were filling it with sandwiches and fruit in the kitchen. It looked like they were going for a picnic. She then watched this vision go on as the little girl seemed to be happy spending the day with her parents and she began to feel those feelings and her hand began to tingle.

She picked up the pencil and began writing all of the words she felt were going through her head and instead of pouring them out of her mouth, it poured on paper. It came with such ease that she continued to let her pencil flow over the paper. Soon she had reached six paragraphs and the lead of her pencil broke.

"Crack".

She frowned, and the powerful feeling and emotions she had about this story vanished. The words on the paper seemed to be enough, so she took out her pencil sharpener and sharpened her pencil to finish the rest of the test. After finishing up the English part she raised her hand and the teacher came to pick up her test.

Mrs. Pating sat back down at her desk to look over Marcy's test to make sure it was all filled out and got to the writing part. Knowing Marcy was not a strong writer she was not expecting much from it. But as she began reading the story, tears began to roll down her cheeks.

Grabbing a tissue she blotted away the tears and looked up at Marcy. "Marcy dear could you come up here for a moment." Marcy furrowed her eyebrows wondering why she was being called and walked up to the desk.

"Dear, this was a wonderful story of an exciting day you shared with your parents. It brought me to tears. They are happy tears because I had such a similar day with my parents when I was your age." Marcy looked around wondering what she should say, but was proud that she was receiving a positive compliment on her story, she muttered, "Thank you", and smiled a small smile.

"Thank you Marcy, you may sit down now." It was beginning to be a weird day for Marcy, the visions and feelings she felt. How it seemed to flow from her pencil onto the paper. but she shrugged her shoulders as this could not ever be as cool as Math.