I sat on the black Spinny chair, idly strumming my guitar and laughing. Sat in the middle of the classroom on those uncomfortable red stools were Tract, with her clarinet, and Duncan, with his euphonium. Chen was to my right at one of the many keyboards that lined the edge of the music classroom. Miss Talbot, the music teacher, stood by Tracy and Duncan as she looked over their shoulders at their music. It was 20 past 3 on a Monday, and to say this club was called Big Band, it was tiny. Saying that, we were missing a few members since Tia and Jay weren't there.
"Everyone who plays in part A, we needto go through it." Miss Talbot announced, and everyone got ready to play. Everyone except me.
"Since you don't need me for this bit, I'm going to pop to the loo" I put down my guitar and walked out of the door, into the mini corridor leading to all of the music practice rooms.
The first thing that hit me was the smell. It smelt like something had died. No, scratch that, it smelt like everything had died. Waving my hand in front of my face I walked down the mini walkway and turned left into the proper corridor.
I jogged down the 5 step staircase and carried on walking. Just before i hit the turn in the corridor, I realised the smell had gotten even worse, if that was even possible. As I was rifling through my pockets to try and find some perfume or something to make it smell better, I stopped. I could hear a noise. It sounded like... Voices. But not ordinary voices. It was like a constant droning, getting louder and louder but not saying anything. Just making noise. I peered around the corridor and before I even had a chance to release the breath I'd sucked in I slammed against the wall, praying I hadn't been seen.
Praying they hadn't seen me.
I breathed in and out slowly, trying to lower my hummingbird heart rate. Staying flat against the dirty white wall I slowly peered around the corner again.
I couldn't believe it, but there was no denying my own eyes.
Coming down the corridor were the teachers. Only, not the teachers. Their feet were drwosily dragging across the blue linoleum and their arms flapped in front of them like they were trying to feel their way forward. Their skin looked pale though some of them looked slightly bruised. I saw my mentor near the front of the small throng, his bald head turning purple. They were quite clearly the cause of the droning and the ever growing smell.
What was wrong with them? And what was I supposed to do? They were still heading towards me, so I knew I had to get out of there. Perhaps they were all just sick, but the tingling on the back of my neck told me otherwise.
They we're getting closer; I had to move quickly. I could step out into the next corridor and go right, towards the teachers. Never going to happen. The only doors around me were the ones to the staff toilet and the anti-bullying office - and both were locked. I could run back to music and pray they don't see or hear me, or I could step out into the corridor and go left into the art department. That was the closest and there were plenty of places to hide as well as a staircase that led downstairs and to an outside door
I made a split second decision, and darted out. Praying to God they weren't close enough to grab me I pushed open the door to the art department and sprinted inside. Through the door's glass panel, the last thing I saw before sliding down the wall were the faces of the front teachers.
Their eyes were completely white.
