The rhythmic ticking of an old clock is the only thing that fills this room, that annoying ticking. It's not loud, but it's distracting, making it hard to ignore the seconds passing by, instead it makes each passing second painfully known. I've taken the time to count the ticks, considering that's the only thing I can do. Just casually counting the only sound that exists within this empty void. My discomfort is obvious, there are a lot of things right now that I could complain about: these chairs, the evening light shining in my eye, the dull seconds passing by, and the fact that I'm pretty sure my time has already passed. Yet, the teacher here seems to just be savoring these moments of my silent torment. And people say that I'm sadistic.
I'm in a small classroom, the time is roughly around 4:30. I've been here for about an hour, having served my fifty-minute detention plus an additional ten minutes, yet the teacher has not yet given me the okay to leave. There are no rules within detention, at least that's how it's starting to feel like as of right now, I speak out of line, and then it's another ten minutes, I fidget even slightly it's another ten minutes. Heck if I were to even breathe loud enough I bet you I could get an extra ten minutes, point is, this place is the hell's hell. School's already hellish enough as it is, but the one redeeming thing that it has is that it can be over at a time I can expect, detention does not have that luxury. And because of that it's basically just a game of patience to see who can out-wait the other, the student or the teacher. One of which has the luxury and can actually afford to wait, having more than enough time to do so.
Tick, Tick, Tick, Tick, I wonder how many times I've heard that same tick today, subconsciously and consciously, it's probably enough to drive a man insane; yet I'm starting to find a weird solace within the empty spaces between the ticks. Least, the seconds end when I expect them to. Another minute past, we're now up to eleven, but I don't protest. I'm not going to give the teacher the sense of satisfaction of holding me in for another hour or so, just so she can send me home just as it starts to get dark. No, I'm smarter than that, despite what many people may say. So with that in mind, I continued to wait, my stare fixated on the teacher. An older lady, probably around forty or fifty, graying hair, blue glazed over eyes signifying a slow loss in vision, yet her pride gets in her way when it comes to glasses, and a few early signs of age on not only her face, but also her hands. I was idly tapping my finger against my cheek in rhythm to the clock's ticking. Another minute passed, time continued forward, the teacher at this point was well aware that my time was up, but she's still searching for a reason and her stare was now fixated towards me. With that in mind, I removed my hand from my check and instead folded them under my desk. She'd totally call me out on that and make up some bullshit reason to add some more time. I'm not giving her that satisfaction of that, she's gonna have to be real creative if she wants to continue to hold me in. Another minute passed and finally, she spoke,
"You know, I don't like holding you in here." Oh, really now? She continued,
"You think that I don't have better things I'd rather do than watch over a spoiled little brat? I have a home to get to, and a life outside of this school. I take no pleasure in keeping you here." Not from what I can see, but go on.
"And yet, it is every, singe, day, that I have to sit here and watch over you. Every single day that I have to stay in just so you can serve this pitiful punishment that the school thinks is actually doing something. Had it been up to me, you'd be expelled by now." Same here. She gritted her teeth,
"So what am I to do? Just accept the fact that this is going to continue day in and day out, just sitting here in silence, making sure you don't do anything stupid? Honestly, you're not even worth my time." I rolled my eyes, and then she snapped,
"That's it, another ten minutes." Really? Just for rolling my eyes? Whatever, it doesn't matter. I didn't show any signs of any displeasure from what she said, and instead continued to just stare forward. She started to get angry, here we go,
YOU ARE READING
Soulmates
FantasiaGolly, where do I even begin? My name is Dallas King, however you may address me by my first name. It just gives me the willies when people say my last name. So please stick with the first. And I'd say I'm a pretty fair guy. A lot of people say I ha...
