The rest of the class was unremarkably silent. Though the rumor had sprouted, cracking the ground open with its roots, it had initially been met with laughter, disbelief. Their attitudes hadn't changed, as a silence settled on their vocal chords as they spotted Marik through the glass in the door, the bandage on his neck seeming to sew their lips shut. As I sat there I could feel their eyes on me, packed with judgment of a new kind. They racked their brains, I could hear the gears inside their small minds whirring around as they tried to determine if I really had done what they had seen.
Their silence was deafeningly loud, and even the teacher was unnerved by the instance. I clicked my pen, the scribbling of my notes being the only sound in the class. Their attitudes confused me, and even as I turned around to look at them, their silence persisted. A creak of the walls peaked my interest, the trees outside bending to the will of the wind. It pierces through their branches, wishing to knock them down. Their silence was broken with the trill of the phone. The teacher jumped at the noise and he crossed to the wall near the door, picking the receiver off of the hook. His shoes clacked on the tile, feeling as though his steps were loud enough to crack it.
He held the plastic to his ear while looking at the students he was teaching. They stared back at him, their eyes piercing right through the thin veil of confidence he held over himself. He visibly cowered, turning his head the other way. He leaned against the door jam, listening to the voice speaking into his ear. I listened to the tapping of his leather shoe, his anxious motions guiding a smirk to many classmates faces. As I watch him, I see a flash of her hair pass the door and I feel myself sink back into my chair. The confidence I had gained seeping down into the floor. My chest squeezes, as if the wind had burst through the windows and wrapped my lungs in its tornado. I tried to shake it off, and the slam of the phone back onto its hook snaps me back to reality. I watched the teacher, who looked more than normal as he returned to his desk.
His glasses slide down on his nose, and he reaches his aged hand up to push them back. His hand then flows into his hair, which is thinning at the front. He clears his throat, and holds up his hand nonchalantly.
"There is a severe weather warning for tonight. High winds and heavy rain. So the curfew is being pulled back to five pm." A range of groans echo throughout the room, his voice was smooth, though every once in a while it cracks like that of a teenagers. Everytime earning antagonizing chuckles from the boys in the classroom. He sighs, facing the brunt for a message he is simply relaying. I tuned my ears into the conversations that had finally resumed, looking down and to the side as if I could hear their words more clearly. There had been several hangouts planned for later tonight, and then I heard it. The sickening crack of an insult that snaps past my ears, reaching everyone in the room. It feels as though it pricks at my ear drums, tugs on my lobes.
"We shoulda made scary over here climb tonight I guess." My hand paused, it had been swirling the ink around the page as I waited for the class to end. My eyes flick straight forward, listening intently as the conversations die around me. I feel their eyes, and the light chuckle from them feels like it's slicing the sides of my neck open. My chair creaks as I grab onto the back of it, twisting my waist around to look at him. I remember his name from the weekly posting of grades. His school photo posed alongside his sickeningly pompous name. I stare at him, the curly hair that just grazed the tops of his ears, the crook in his nose from a previous break, the sharp jawline that made his whole face seem on edge. Crawlin Moukelow. It was the name of a nice company, and his clear skin and untattered uniform oozed wealth, even if he was dressed just like the rest of us. "Oh? Does she speak?" He added as my mouth creaked open. A rattle flowed through my skin as my tongue licked my canine tooth. My anger was evident, and the teacher was looking at me through his eyebrows. He had been trying to find the spot where he left off.
YOU ARE READING
Blood Stained Floors - wlw
Romance"Their laughter had filled my ears, the slick edge of doubt and pity draped other their hollow chuckles. Every noise emitted from their sorry cores was something that could be trapped in a specimen jar. Their words were phantasmal, their taunts morb...
