An Attempt at Narration

Before I begin, I want to thank Mr/Ms. Anonymous, Inspector Sahab and of course Haasvany whose kind words in my previous posts inspired me to keep writing. It meant a lot to me. I'm touched, honored and humbled all at once, if that were possible. So, this is for you guys... 

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She was an awkward girl, to say the least. Smart, you can give her that, but they said it was because of her Asian genes. She was painfully Asian in a very white part of Liverpool. She never really noticed she was different. She knew she did not belong in that part of the world... she was well aware of that. She had only just picked up the language the year before. She remembered that too...

"16 take away 5" the teacher had said during the oral maths quiz.
She blinked. Hard. She knew "add" and she knew "subtract" but "take away" was an alien word.
"Got it? OK, next one: 9 take away 4" the teacher continued.
"6 take away 2... 8 take away 3... 11 take away 9..."
She blinked again. Harder this time. It was her second week in Perivale Primary. Everyone had been so nice, and no one seemed to notice her lack of vocabularies... or maybe they did, but in a school dominated by sons and daughters of immigrants, no one seemed to mind.
"You, little girl, are you all right?"
As the teacher's gentle hands wrapped itself around her shoulder, only then did she realize with shame and horror that she had burst into tears. The other students were staring at her and all hopes of blending in disappeared with the tears that streamed down her face. This could not be happening, she thought. She was not a cry-baby, but now everybody will know her as the girl who cried during the maths quiz. Maths! She was going to fail maths! What will her parents think? She was top of the class in her old school, but here she was a failure!
"Are you OK?" the teacher asked again.
She shook her head profusely, still blinking hard and blindly wiping her eyes and nose. Oh, this was embarrassing!
"What's wrong then, sweetie?"
The teacher was very kind, she thought to herself. Teachers were not known to be kind where she came from. At least, she did not know any kind teachers yet. She had only been to school a few months before moving to the UK. Her old teacher was nice, but she had never put an arm around her... or tried to calm her when she cried. Her old teacher had barked for a reason the last time she cried. Maybe she could tell this teacher what was bothering her.
The teacher pulled her aside from the rest of the class. This teacher knew she would never be able to admit what was making her cry.
"I don't understand" she sobbed.
"What don't you understand, honey?" the teacher asked, her big blue eyes shining with concern.
"Maths" she said.
"You don't know how to do maths?"
"No. I don't understand. Math word"
"You don't understand what I said?"
"Yes."
"Do you know Math symbols?"
"Symbols? I... I... " she burst into tears again. What on earth was symbols?
"Oh...no... Don't cry... Here let me show you..."
The teacher then started drawing these symbols she had mentioned.
"OK... 3 plus 4" she said as she wrote '3+4' on the board.
The girl nodded. She already knew what 'plus' was. She had heard her friends use it before, so she could cope with 'plusses'
"Now 11 take away 9" she said writing '11-9' on the board.
Take away was minus! The revelation came to her like a smack on the forehead. She cried over that? Take aways were as simple as plusses, and she cried because of that? Oh! She almost failed because of that? A smile slowly creeped on her face.
"You understand now?" the teacher asked smiling back at her.
The girl nodded.
"Lets see your answers"
The girl proudly handed her work. She knew all the answers. She had been doing simple equations since she knew numbers. Her father had always insisted that his children be a whizz at maths.
"You got all the answers right! You are so clever! Why did you cry then? Waste of tears wasn't it?" the teacher exclaimed hugging her. The hug felt awkward, as was the teacher's kindness, but it was a welcomed awkwardness.

But that was Perivale Primary. Now she was in Hunts Cross, Liverpool. Here, she stuck out like a sore thumb. Everything seemed to be a subject of ridicule. It did not help that she was good at maths. If anything, it made things worst...
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OK. That's all for now. Hahahahaha. Painful childhood memories actually suck the souls out of you! Who knew? Errors are abundant here. It is my first attempt after all... so forgive me. Comments are most welcomed. Thanks. :)