The Last One's

prologue

I'm in class. Staring blankly at the clock above the board. Despite the open windows, the classroom is incredulously hot and I feel a cold droplet of sweat creep up from the edge of my hairline and run down my face. I wipe it off with the sleeves of my T-shirt.

Our history teacher, Mr. Hendrick, walks slowly and calmly back and forth the front of the class. His low and tired voice hardly reaches my ears as he reads a passage from the English version of Mein Kampf by Adolf Hitler.

My eyes can't stay open and my head keeps bobbing up and down every minute or so. But my eyes never leave the clock.

I'm not the only one finding this lesson rather draining. When I look drunkenly around the classroom, all I see is two people. The ones that are asleep, and the ones who are about to fall asleep while fanning themselves with worksheets.

My eyes get back on the clock. It seems like the longer I stare at it, louder the ticking gets. It makes my heart beat faster. Like no matter how far the end of this torture may be, it's at least getting closer.

Time slows as I watch the short  hand of the clock go from 2 to 3. Finally, at that exact moment in time, the bell rings and the entire class stands up. Just then, as the guy who's always the last one in and first one out is about to leave, the door opens. The class freezes as the deputy principal strolls in, heels hitting the ground in a way that commanded power and attention in her every step.

She is tall, slim and clean. She wears a sleek black powersuit and has glasses perched at the edge of her perfect aquiline nose. She doesn't exactly look young and she's no supermodel but I admire her more than anyone else in the world. This is the woman that holds more power than the principal himself. When this woman threatens you, she promises you karma and consequence.

And you should believe me when I say, she keeps her promises.

She looks at us all one-by-one with an astonishingly straight face and a smile creeps up on her thin red lips as the old Mr. Hendrick stands by her side.

Then, calm as ever, as if she knows that none of us will dare complain, she says: "Detention until five. You are to write an essay about Mein Kampf by Mr. Adolf Hitler and you are to write it well. Your class rep will drop them off at my office at one minute past five and I expect you all to be gone by then."
The class remains frozen. Watching her every move until the door closes behind her. Then we all sigh in unison and silently begin our work. I feel sorry for Candice as I watch her skimming through each page as quickly as she can. She hadn't even begun to read the book we've been doing for the past two weeks.