Persepolis Project
Storyboard Text
- All the other kids knew exactly what to say. I knew the answer but didn't know where to begin. I remember this one know it all in my class who always had something to say.
- The moment I had long been dreading arrived.
- OF COURSE!
-
- Do you have any idea what to say?
- My anxiety began to consume me. I didn't know what to do. What would the other children think of me? The girl who couldn't even write about a war her Dad died in. What would my Dad think?
- As hard as I tried, I couldn't focus in class. I tried writing about planes and tanks at home but every time I touched my pencil to paper, I wept...
- and Wept
- and Wept
- 50% of all pilots burned to death in their crash they are the true hero's of Iran.
- The next day in class everyone shared perfect reports. I never wished to know the things they said I was horrified.
- SHAHKnows Best
- Decent. Now Perdisse, come to the blackboard
- I would later find out, after talks with my mother, this was my Father's touch.
- Until I felt a hand reach out and guide me.
- The Hand led me to my diary where, as if under divine influence, I ripped out a letter I had written to my father and shared it with the class.
- Many were brought to tears and I was given a good grade. I didn't desire their pity... all I wanted was to hold that hand one more time.
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