Merci and I

The Unilian School

The Unilian School is defined as the school where 98% of the people are cracked, and only 2% are not, out of which only 50% of that meagre 2% is decent and studious.

I'm sorry if I confused you - I wanted to give an honest description of our students. Of the hundred people in Q-Venna, only twenty-six are students. And out of that twenty-six, only three, including me, are in my grade. I'm eleven, and currently in the sixth form, just in case you were wondering.

The Unilian School is the only study centre at the moment on this life-sustaining dwarf planet of ours, and hence the most chaotic too. The two kids in my class are Arthur and Aryana, the eldest son and daughter of Ryan and Diana Blackwood. 

Our teacher, Miss Elmwood, has a class today, first lesson. It's a Monday, and she'll be trying her hardest to convince us all out of our Monday blues.

"Good morning, Ryan's children and Leona," she greets us, walking in; much to the annoyance of my fellow classmates, at being merely dismissed as 'Ryan's children'.

"Today, we have a History lesson, first class. Then you'll have English, then Geography, then your favorite - lunch!" She laughed. "Then, kids, you have Math, then Chemistry, then playtime - again a favorite - then last you've double Biology. Then the best part of the day -"

"Dispersal," muttered Arthur, a little loudly. Miss Elmwood smiled and nodded. "Well then, let's begin without wasting further time. Take out your History books and notebooks, and open them to Chapter Two."

She waited half a minute for us to do the said. Then she continued, "My dears, today I won't teach you - not exactly, no."

She paused and let her statement sink in.

"What?" I spoke, dazed.

"I said, I won't teach you three today. But here's a task for you till I'm gone - erase the third page of the chapter in the book, and then - or wait, actually. Don't do anything, then, because if you have even accidently erased the page wrongly, it'll be dangerous to follow the instructions on that page. So wait for me after erasing it. Good bye, good luck!"

And she left.

"What a weirdo," I told Aryana, as soon as she was out of earshot. "Who erases good studying material for some random, untold reason?"

"I'm not even doing it. I'll just make up an excuse, maybe say I was rather tired to erase so much, or that the friction would make the page hot and spoil my eraser, or some random excuse like that when she comes," Ari said, further annoyed.

"I agree," I replied.

The minutes ticked by. I soon got bored, and finding nothing else better to do in that small room, decided to read the page and then erase it, so that I wouldn't be wasting precious knowledge because of my mad teacher's orders.

Soon, I had read it, and began to erase it. I used a regular eraser that I had with me, and scrubbed and scrubbed at the page until I no longer possessed the strength to do so. Then I called over the twins, who were also bored by now, and offered to help them with any one homework if they would finish erasing the page for me. Arthur started first, and went on and on, seeming to never fall short on patience and persistence. Then finally, twenty minutes later, he handed over the half-scrubbed, short eraser to his twin sister, and Aryana continued the task.

At the end, we were left with a perfectly white page, which I had touched up a bit, to make it look almost new. But we still didn't see the point of doing this. So, I called them over again and handed them colors and paints to color up the dull page a bit.

Fifteen minutes later, the hour-long History lesson was almost over, and Miss Elmwood had still not returned. I sighed and we went out of the classroom to take a short walk in the fresh May breeze meanwhile.

When we came back, she still hadn't returned, so we began packing up our things for the next lesson. As I reached for the open History book, I noticed that something was amiss.

There, right in the center of the page, all our prized paintings were no more, but had carved themselves into some strange, small shapes - wait - letters.

The paint on the page had shaped into the instructions... "The forbidden instructions!" I yelled, suddenly realizing. The twins jumped.

"Holy macaroni, Leona, what was that for?"

"The instructions, you two; the ones Miss Elmwood told us were forbidden!"

"So?"

"So what? So, they're here!" I screeched, in a mad excitement, hopping about the room like a bunny.

Both Arthur and Aryana rushed to see what was happening. I couldn't wait to read the instructions properly, for I had only allowed myself to see a word or two. Then, I had looked away forcibly, waiting for the others to come so we'd see the secret message together, and share the thrilling excitement.

"Guys, look," I told them. We all glanced down at the same time.

The words were written oddly, in improper grammar, but we could make out what it said.

A chill went down our spines, with dual feelings.

"I'm feeling excited," Aryana declared.

Arthur shivered. "Not me. I'm terrified."

They both looked at me.

I smiled and shuddered at the same time - "I'm both."

*