It Isn't Infinite

Chapter 1: The New Kid

I'm walking down the street to the high school and a bus passes by me.

Some kids are whistling at me, but I ignore them as the school looms up in front of me, appearing from the smog so suddenly like it was a ghost.

And it sort of was, I guess.

With its pale blue walls and large black windows, it did look kind of like a ghost. The black windows were many eyes, and the pale blue walls were like the body.

And the dark roof and dark door.

Well, you get the idea.

So the bright yellow school bus kind of ruins the effect.

I hold back a smile. Ah, this is a strange school.

The kids file out if the bus. I remember my first day here...

[INITIATE FLASHBACK]

I walked to the office, awestruck by the largeness of the school. The kids were very obedient, which I wasn't expecting from a secondary school (what they call a high school in England).

When I walked in, the principal got right to the chase. I was handed a pamphlet, a key ring, and the room I taught in. CH345.

As I went off to try and find the room, students - especially the guys - turned to look at me in curiosity.

When I found my way into the choir room, there is a class in there and a teacher is watching them write stuff on a piece of paper. I let myself into the room, and the teacher and students look up.

"May I help you, miss?" The teacher asks coldly.

"I'm the new choir teacher," I say, equally as coldly. The teacher immediately scrambles up and sighs in relief.

"Thank you!" He exclaims. "These children are absolutely horrid, and-"

"Excuse me," I say, my voice as cold as ice. "Maybe it isn't the children who are horrid, but you yourself. Now, if you please...?" I gesture at the door. He looks speechless as he walks out.

The class bursts into cheers and laughter. I turn to them, blinking in surprise.

"Thank you!" They yell. "He's been so mean to us!"

I smile at them kindly. "Now, who's ready to sing?"

[END FLASHBACK]

I haven't seen that man since. I don't even know what happened to him.

The kids all wave at me. I wave back.

The kids in my choir class seem to like me, I guess. Well, I'm not going to make their life miserable just because they're in such a strange school. I teach them notes and I'm patient with them, and they know me as Ms. Farla.

I don't give out punishments unless the kid has done something that really annoys me, like talking while we're supposed to be singing or starting a verbal fight in class.

Then I notice a kid getting off the bus that I've never seen before. I walk up to her and say, "Hello there. What's your name?"

"Um... I'm Eliza Green," she stammers.

"Nice to meet you, Eliza," I say, smiling warmly at her. "I'm the choir teacher here, and I'm Ms. Farla. I'll see you whenever I see you!" I shake her hand and then walk into the building.

When I get to my classroom, there are kids in there, huddling around something or someone. I walk straight through them, and they part for me like the Red Sea parted to Moses.

And I gasp at the sight.

The man convulses, blood pouring out of the open wound in his chest. A glint of silver catches my eye. I look a little closer, and I see a knife.

"Have any of you called the emergency number?" I say, turning away from the horrible sight. They shake their heads.

"We're supposed to call for a teacher," a Jordan says. "We knew you'd be here, but we weren't expecting you to be so late."

I snap my phone out of my purse and dial the number.

"Hello?" A pleasant female voice says.

"Yes. I am Riley Farla, and I would like to report a suicidal attempt by a man."

--------------------------------------------------------------

The next few hours are spent answering questions from the press, for students, from teachers.

The paramedics are rolling the man out, covered in a black trash bag. The man is being taken into the hospital to see if anything can be done to save him, but the paramedics don't think there'a any chance of survival because he'd already lost so much blood.

The kids who found the man are in shock right now. I'm being strong for them, trying to tell them that it's okay, and they listen. But they still look a little haunted.