This school is crazy.
I mean, I never expected such an action packed first day.
Oh, no, I don't mean the content of the lessons, the insane witch villain or anything. I mean, like, this school is cray cray big; it's giving me a real workout. It took me about half an hour just to walk to Theatre class. No wonder the lessons themselves are so short.
Anyway, I'm here now, and that's even more tiring, because we had to drag chairs into a circle so we could all see each other. What kind of school makes you arrange your own seating? Not to mention this room is dark and humid...
The teacher in the middle of the circle is getting a little irritated with my internal monologuing, so... whatever, he can't drag me down! I hold onto the hopes that someone, somewhere is reading these very thoughts. Silly, right? Well, if there's anyone there to answer this question, clearly it isn't.
"Sunita, when you're quite finished..." my teacher, who looks like he recently escaped from a bad place, mutters. I pretend to stop monologuing to put his mind at ease.
"Okay, so today, we're going to look at lighting techniques."
Great. It's one of those lessons. The teacher walks into a cupboard and returns with a lamp.
"This. Is a lamp."
He disappears back into storage and pulls out a lightbulb. He holds it up to the class once he has taken his place in the middle again.
"This. Is a lightbulb."
A boy on the other side of the group raises his hand. "Sorry to interrupt, but... where is Mr Ingram?"
"M-m-my dear b-boy," the man stutters. "Whatever are you t-talking about?"
"It says on my timetable that we're meant to have Mr Ingram. I was in his class last year too, and you are not him."
The "teacher" locks eyes with the boy for a moment before launching himself out the window. The glass shatters and he plummets to the ground due to this crazy little thing called gravity. We're on the third floor so we all rush over to the window to see the body and the pool of blood. However, he has completely disappeared.
For the remainder of the lesson, we discuss what happened to our real teacher. Who knows? Maybe he's dead in a box in San Francisco. But while it's fun to speculate, it's now time for my last class of the day. Considering the adventures I've had today, I await the lesson with dread but cautious optimism.
Hey, reader, I have a question.
Do you think spiders can dream?
YOU ARE READING
Once Upon a Girl
Short StoryShe was just a small town girl... After randomly finding herself displaced from her normal life and into a midwestern family, Sunita is trying to adjust to a brand new high school. Can she survive the dramas of teenage life? Note: this book is a par...
