The time writing failed me

When I was in third grade, I wasn't a very good writer. I wasn't a very good reader either. You see, in Denmark, children do not really learn to read and write before the first grade. That is obviously very different compared to the U.S where kids can read the Gettysburg Address flawlessly before reaching preschool. Anyway, I was a late bloomer. I loved being a kid, and I didn't like things I wasn't good at. I was not good at sitting down and focusing. I was good a running around and being funny. However, by third grade I was required to know how to write, except I didn't.. Not really. So we had this assignment where we had to write a fairytale, and the day it was due we had to read it out loud to our class mates. I was really nervous about the assignment, and I was too scared to ask anyone for help. I had a really good story in my head, I just didn't know how to put it on paper. The day it was due, I still had nothing. Just a piece of paper with lots of doodles. One by one, each of my classmates went up, in front of everyone and read their fairy tale. It was almost mine turn. Two more students ahead of me: Peter Jakobsen and Josephine Hansen. They made me nervous. I was shaking in my little seat. What was I supposed to do when it was my turn? Just go up there and say "I didn't do it because I suck and I don't know how to write"? God, why did stupid little Josephine have to be the best writer and reader in our class? and WHY was I, of course, right after her? No one could top her fairytale, not even Hans Christan Andersen himself. Sh&*%4#* it was my turn. I slowly walked up to the front of the class with my notebook. I saw my teacher smiling at me from across the room. I saw my classmates eagerly staring at me with their big judgemental eyes. I saw Josephine smirking her little stupid mouth, as she gave me a look of "Ha, I'm better than you." Suddenly I knew what to do. I was not going to let anyone think that I didn't know how to read or write. I looked at the bedoodled page and I started to pretend to read. I "read" my fairytale as if it was actually on the page. I got so into it, I acted out every word, and I felt everything I said. It was like a one person show! My classmates laughed and hauled and cried! (well maybe not cried). When I was finished with my story, everyone stood up and clapped. It was amazing! Until...My teacher said "Thank you Ida! that was wonderful. May I see your fairytale?" I stood still. I didn't know what to do. Should I run? should I refuse, should I spill milk on it? Apparently I thought about this way too long, so my teacher got up from her chair, walked over to me and yanked the notebook out of my hand. She flipped through the pages of the notebook that had no writing. The classroom was silent. The teacher looked at me with a disappointed expression. "Have a seat Ida.. And your parents can expect a phone call from me later." I sat down amongst my speechless classmates. I caught myself smiling a little, as the next person went up to read their story.