No More

6• Pranks

A general comes into the classroom. I meant a teacher, not a general. I forget that we are at a school and not a military, but the uniform can be so deceiving sometimes. The first two words that come out of her mouth aren't even good morning. That only leaves one more choice of wordings.

"POP QUIZ!" the teacher yells enthusiastically. I am starting to have nightmares of a teacher and a wide smile. I have never seen a human being who smiles as much as she does. Perhaps it was when she was younger. She probably didn't listen to the myths which say do not leave your face in the same position for too because your face will only get stuck that way. It was her curse. This is what happens when someone doesn't listen to a myth. A bright red shirt, pale skin, and a smile so wide that it reaches either end of the classroom. This isn't a face of a teacher, this is a future murder attempt.

I almost jump out of my seat as she begins to speak again.
"Your quiz will be on the labeling of the heart and how air passes through it."

I used to enjoy biology at a time when it used to be about rabbits and butterflies. Now it has become technical and we must think if we want to chose the path of biology for our future.

I answer the test and complete it yet I stare at my answers for the rest of the class. I wait until most of the students have handed in their papers or until the bell has rung. This only gives me the assurance for a better grade. I finally decide to hand in my paper, but the teacher grabs my wrists instead and says, "Pull up your sleeves Verhan. What is this on your arms?"

Of course, another typical Emelian prank. She has written the most revolting words onto my wrists and some things might be distasteful to the biology teacher as well. She begins to read, "Mrs. Frown. It's more like Mrs. Frown Upside Down." I do not think she understood the meaning of that joke. I never realized I was such a heavy sleeper and it could reach to the extent where I couldn't feel words being written on my wrists. I can only look down shamefully.

"Verhan, I want you to go to the bathroom and take the writings off your hand. You are lucky that those weren't biology notes or I would have suspended you. Consider it a blessing."

Everything is a blessing to her; she has all the zeal of the whole state of Nevada combined into one figure.
She walks down with me to the bathroom sinks where I aggressively try to take the ink off. Scrub after scrub, she finally decides to leave me alone realizing I wasn't going to say anything back. I might be called the shy, quiet girl. I do have a voice I just haven't found it yet.

Next period is my test and I cannot be late for it. I pick my pencil from the top of the soap dispenser where I previously placed it before and I head to class. I sit in my usual spot where I cannot be seen by the rest of the class. It's a place that doesn't pull too much attention.

The teacher walks in with her hair down and make-up applied. A teacher who thinks she has just graduated high school. My eyes can't take the sight of this horrid scenery. It seems to me that not one teacher in this school can express the term 'good morning.' She tells the dog with the blonde hair to pass out the tests or are those not the correct words for the teacher's pet. I take a glance at the teacher and she has her chair reclined to get a better focus on her newly received text messages. A narcissistic, inane history teacher.

The first question on the history test what are the four climate zones of Africa? I probably should have continued reading the lesson. I silently weep over my failure to recognize.

Everyone has given their test paper to the teacher and I am left as the last one. I am starring at the first question of the test. The teacher glowers at me to tell me it's finally time to turn in my paper. I write down any four climate zones hoping at least two of them are right. Instead of grabbing my paper, she grabs my wrists. Why is everyone obsessed with my wrists today? I give her an evil glare, but her face is full of guilt.

"I am terribly sorry. I could have sworn I saw you looking at your wrists a minute ago. I just thought you were cheating." At least she has a bit of sense in her to apologize. It hurts to know that everyone thinks of you as the cheater when you haven't even cheated once. I nod and exit the classroom.

I walk into a noise filled room otherwise known as the lunchroom. Rather than seeing looks of euphoria, I see looks of repugnance all towards me. I turn around to look for a place to eat my lunch elsewhere. The only place left is Mrs. Frown's class. I only wish for her not to be there. Thankfully she isn't and I can eat my sandwich in a muffled surrounding.

The next few classes only give place to ennui in my life. I begin to count down the minutes to go home for yet another anticipated bus ride. If only I could drive myself around. My pout only deepens.