The Teacher // Josh Dun

.:twenty eight:..

"We're not." The principal replied, then said something into his walkie talkie.

Josh tugged on Devon's hand, trying to get her as far away from the building as possible.

"Josh," Devon slowed, her voice quiet as she stared at the school. "T-That's-" her breath was caught in her throat at the thoughts that were running through her head. "That's my classroom." The glass window popped to the art room, sending smoke through the opening.

"Come on, Dev." Josh urged her.

However, she broke her hand from his and started running. Towards the school.

All she could think about was all of the art that was probably already lost to the fire. She ran as fast as she could, ignoring numerous calls from Josh, who followed closely behind her.

The principal tried to stop her, but she simply pushed through him.

Once she reached the set of double doors that were located in the same hallway as her classroom, she swiped her key card and pulled it open.

"The portfolios," she whispered to herself as she quickly unlocked her door, ignoring the warmth from the metal knob as she swung it open.

She stood and stared at the blaze for a few seconds, amazed by how much it had already stolen from her.

She went to her desk and quickly pulled the top drawer open, grabbing two thick manila folders. She coughed into her arm before she went to turn out of the classroom, but something caught her eye.

Then she saw the stack of papers that she had put off on grading. She assigned her classes to make pictures that had to do with their parents. However, she assigned that just after her mother died. She tried, but she couldn't handle the memories that would flood back as she graded them.

Though dangerously close to the fire, Devon quickly made her way to the cabinet and gathered the papers, ignoring the burning she felt on her right arm, which was closest to the fire.

As she was about to run out, she dropped one of the files.

"Dammit." She whispered as she crouched down and collected all the papers that had fell out, haphazardly shoving them back into folder.

As soon as she stood up, a piece of the ceiling fell and landed right next to her. She watched through the fire for a few seconds at the all the art projects that were disintegrating away on the walls.

"Devon!" Josh called from the doorway as he heard a loud crack from the ceiling.

Devon turned and ran towards the doorway, just before another tile came tumbling down. If Devon hadn't moved as quickly as she did, it would've landed on her.

"Why would you do that?!" Josh yelled as he pushed her outside. It wasn't because he was upset, but because he wanted her to safety.

Devon fell to the ground on her hands and knees, coughing as if she was choking on everything she had every swallowed. She made sure to set the work down gently before she began coughing.

Sirens from approaching fire trucks and ambulances echoed in her ears as she ignored Josh's remarks.

The principal was evacuating everyone into the parking lot, then he joined Devon and Josh.

"The ambulances are on their way." He told Devon, noticing the burn lingering on her arm. "They'll fix you up."

"I'm not worried about that," Devon said as she eased herself up with the help of Josh. "Just my baby."

There was another crash from inside the building as Devon was gathering the papers.

"These were that important?" Josh asked as he assisted her with carrying the projects.

"Yes," Devon nodded, tucking her hand into Josh's since she finally had an excuse to hold his hand. "Do you know how crushed some of these kids would be if they found out their stuff was destroyed?"

"But your baby," Josh had to refrain from saying our. "It could've gotten hurt."

Devon ignored his remark as she began coughing again. Just then, the emergency vehicles pulled into the parking lot.

Josh was quick as he rushed his girlfriend to the ambulance, the firefighters immediately tending to the fire.

"She's hurt?" An emt said as he hopped out of the back of the ambulance.

"She ran back in after it started," Josh took the papers from her. "She got burnt a-and she breathed in a lot of smoke and she's pregnant."

So, Devon being the most affected by the fire, she was taken to the hospital in the ambulance for treatment, mostly for the baby. Josh, of course, rode in the back.

***

Devon was hooked up to a breathing machine. She inhaled so much smoke that had transferred to the baby, so she had to be put on a breathing treatment. The arm was wrapped in gauze, burn cream slathered under it.

"How're you feeling?" Josh asked her.

Devon didn't respond as she went through the art.

"Devon." Josh shook her shoulder.

She lifted the mask off of her face. "I'm fine." She replied with a hoarse voice. She set the mask back into place, going back to looking at the pictures.

She flipped through the paper that had warped due to paint, admiring every single picture, regardless of artistic ability. The kids had an outlet, and that was all that mattered to Devon.

***

The day after the fire, the school was closed due to hazardous conditions. Devon, however, wanted to see what remained from her classroom, if anything did.

She was notified that the fire had started due to the oven that was in the back room with the clay in it. She had turned it up too high, and she completely took the blame for the happening.

She swiped her key card and enter the school, ducking under the yellow tape that warned of hazards. Then it was her class room.

Various ceiling tiles were scattered about what remained of her classroom. The fire hadn't gotten to her desk, but there was still debris on it.

Glass crunched under her feet as she made her way over to her desk, covering her hand with her coat and wiping off what fell onto it.

She still had her stacks of construction paper to be cut into stencils. The macaroni necklace that Josh had made her back when her mother died still hung on the wall. The ultrasound picture that she had framed and sat next to her computer and fallen down, so she picked it up, only to discover that the glass had broken.

Her paint brushes and bottles turn to ash. The crayons melted into wax.

The fire practically destroyed her whole life, which was teaching the value of art to students.