Nefelibata

Chapter 3 1/2

"Finigual
(adj.) Hating endings; of someone who tries to avoid or prolong the final moments of a story, relationship, or some other journey."
She sat down in the back of the class and opened up her notebook while trying to understand the equation on the board. Everyone else started to file in, but the teacher was still missing. About 15 minutes into class, the teacher walked through the door holding a cane that seemed to hold his very life by the grip of his hand, and the rubber cover on the floor.
He didn't talk, and made absolutely no sound as he walked over t his desk and made a very slow movement to sit on it.
"Today." He breathed in and out.
"We do not discuss the equation on the board, but more precisely, the meaning of it. And what I well hidden inside of it." The eyes of all the students looked up. Most had confused faces, but a few had a look of amusement, as if this sudden segment intrigued them enough to pay attention.
"So, shall we start?" He smiled a smile that wasn't fake, but wasn't real.
"Tell me something you see in this equation."
"I see numbers." said the quarterback of our football team, which happens to be very good.
"Yes. There are indeed numbers in that equation. But tell me, what do the numbers mean?" He was looking at the quarterback, waiting for an answer that no one knew.
"They mean what they are." He said, the smile gone from his face.
"And what are they?" The teacher had a look of suck desire on his face, you would think the poor man's life rested on the answer.
"They are numbers. And that is all they are, and that is all they will ever be." He didn't care to put forth the full amount of creativity that he could accomplish, 92nd no one said a word of it.
"What does this equation represent?" He looked at some other clueless students, and then he looked at me. He never looked away.
"Pardon me, but I don't think I ever learned your name." He said, blinking only when he absolutely had to.
"Life." I said with the voice of someone who was actually confident.
"Your name is life?" He had a look of confusion and interest on his face. He looked like a nice old man when he wasn't gasping for air.
"No. My name is not life. I was answering your equation. It means life." I was no longer looking at him, but looking down at my notebook, realizing that the notebook is four years old, and has never been written in. I hate that.
"Oh, I see. Well class, our first correct answer today. The equation means life. now that I know a clue to the meaning of the rest of the equation, would anyone else lol to take a worthy guess?" He was now smiling, and seemed for a moment That He was truthfully happy.
"Are the letters people?" Said a girl in the exact same seat as me, but on the other side of the room. She looked as misplaced as I did, but at least she was pretty.
"The letters are not people, but things that inflict people." He let go of the came to stretch out his hand and replace it in the exact same spot if had left.
"Then what does the 'm' stand for?" Asked a boy with nerdy glasses, and kakis that were almost as treacherous as his hair was.
"What does it stand for?" The teacher was slowly rising off of his desk and turning towards the chalkboard. Leaning just enough to pick up a brand new piece of chalk.
"Let's all play a game." A game that we all learned when we were younger. A game that teachers used to use were kids had to guess letters in order for them to solve a word. And if they guessed so many incorrect letters, the person would die. This world is a very treacherous place, teachers teaching students to off themselves at such a young age. What a horror." He drew the proper number of lines for letters, and then made the platform in which the person would eventually hang from.
"Someone, anyone, tell me a letter." He was still facing the board, chalk in hand, waiting for a letter to write.
"M." The quarterback said quite loudly.
"M." The teacher said as he wrote it on the first line of the 6 letter word.
"A." A girl who was very popular had said while still looking at her phone.
"Your person is starting to become sad." He put it to the side of the word and put an X through the A.
"E." A boy with nice hair, and a band tee-shirt said.
"E." The teacher repeated as he wrote it on the fourth line of the word.
"Y." It was the person right in front of me, they were rather large, but she could still manage to see the teacher write it in the last line of the word.
"Anyone figure it out yet?" He turned around to face us, and a couple kids started to write down in their notebooks, but most of us sat looking at him.
"T." The nerd who spoke earlier had said, still writing in his notebook.
"Your person is depressed." The teacher sighed and made the stomach of the innocent person hanging from the rope.
"Misery." I said it quiet, and looked down at my lap which I now wish was smaller because everyone looked at me.
"What did you say?" The professor half the exact same pose he had, and turned to look at me.
"Misery." I said it a bit louder, and looked up at the teacher only to find embarrassment creeping in.
"And why do you think the answer is misery?" Everyone was looking at me, and I wanted to run out of this room so fast, so fast, so fast. But was glued to my seat and couldn't find the courage to unglue myself.
"You said that the equation had to do with life. And misery is what life is, it just has hints of happiness or joy in it."
"Yes. And what do you make of the numbers dear?" He walked to the equation and circled the numbers.
"Well, they could be people, or months, or years, or even days. But I don't know exactly." My face turned so red, and people's eyes started to turn away. Except for one.
The bell rang, and everyone else out of their seats.
I was the first one out the door.