The Tale of Yaskara Camacho, An Atrocity This Time

This has only happened to me twice so far, so don't think I've got a bucketful of these tales. At least I only know of two (this one and the previous one about Erika).<!--break-->

Yaskara wasn't very smart. She struggled in all academic areas, but she was really sweet. She never caused any problems and she was nice to everybody. The memory I cling to is nice but it feels a bit odd relating it. I'm a male teacher and quite a manly man if I do say so myself. I remember riding back on the bus from our field trip and she fell asleep on my shoulder. I've got a pretty big shoulder so it must have been a nice pillow for her. That's what I hope, anyway.

She left my class at the end of the year and went on to fifth grade. I had little contact with her after that, but I had her cousin that following year. Her cousin was also very sweet and nice, but she was also brilliant. She manipulated the classroom economy with acumen and a certain ruthlessness that was fairly astounding. Anyway, the two of them were close as sisters.

A year after the cousin left the school, Yaskara's mother had an argument with the stepfather. He was drunk and being...well, you know. He ended up grabbing a knife and threatening Yaskara's mother. Yaskara jumped between them to protect her mother. The fimicolous coward stabbed them both. He tried, but could not find the wherewithal to off himself, though he did try. He lived. Yaskara and her mother did not.

You'd think that after students leave your charge, they'd fade from memory, decrease in importance. That's not true. I still mourn for Yaskara, may she (and her mother) rest in peace.