My Crazy Years

Just another day

   Note: Hey! Nice to meet you! I'm new around here so please excuse any mishaps... ok, so... I published this story on Quotev as well and someone asked me to post it here and I thought I'll give it a try, since they asked nicely. I'll just post a few chapters here to see how it goes, but... ugh! Whatever. Let's get to the story, shall we?

  No one dared make a sound, save for their strained breathing, as he walked through the rows of desks, with eyes looking at the numbers and letters that gave them a headache, the solution of the mystery being the key to their salvation. The silence was suffocating, the sound of pens writing on the white papers feeling like nails scratching on the blackboard. Not even flies could disturb the poor souls, desperately praying not to be the unlucky one. The trick was to not look up, avoid eye contact at any cost and write as if your life depended on it. Well, it did. Nobody wanted another 3 mark in the student register. They already had enough of those, and it wasn't even the middle of the semester. Like an animal hunting its prey, he stopped here and there, checking to see who actually wrote something or who just pretended to. In the beginning they only faked it, but they learned their lesson long ago. Here, there was no such thing as cheating. You could only work and pray to be spared.

   You looked at the exercise on the blackboard, making sure for the 5th time you wrote it correctly. Something didn't add up; the result wasn't alright. You were one of the lucky ones that still had somewhat decent marks for this class. Argh! The hair on the back of your neck was standing up, a cold shiver running down your spine. Oh, freak! You sighed, knowing that the inevitable was only seconds away from happening.

   "(L/N)!" the teacher said, and you let out a silent swear as you rose from your seat and went to take a piece of chalk.

   "Let the show begin!" as Grimm liked to say. And indeed, this was a show and you had the starring role, to make a fool of yourself. Well, here goes nothing.

   "How many of us are here?" you asked Anne, your desk mate and friend.

   The math class was over, and you somehow made it without receiving a bad mark in exchange for being screamed at and called stupid. Not that you complained. Mr. Gibson was really creative with his insults, to the point where they were actually funny, yet no one dared laugh at them. From your perspective, he could yell at you all day long if it meant you escaped the threat of failing his class.

   "28 now. Why?" Anne responded, looking at you and then at the clock on the wall in front of your desk.

   Two more hours left to suffer in that torture chamber the others dared call a classroom. Summers were way too hot and winters were so cold, not even the teachers could teach properly. The English and Physics teachers were the ones to voice their complains the loudest, encouraging the others to do the same. It was the middle of November, when the wind was already harsh and cold, the days barely blessed with the sun's bright light and the temperatures were already below zero Celsius degrees. Yet, the school refused to turn on the heating system, arguing that there was no need for it. Yeah, right! Tell that who someone who actually believes them.

   "28. Twenty-freaking-eight. Then why does he always, ALWAYS, have you or me solve the exercises!?" you yelled, startling Mallory, your other desk mate who had been too absorbed by the math homework to pay you any attention.

   "How should I know?! Ever since he learned our names, he only picks you or me! Does he like my last name that much? He can take it! I'll even wrap it up for him but leave me alone!" Anne said, smiling as she was gesturing with her hands. Even when she was mad, she still found the power to crack a joke.

   "Why do you guys complain? You are still safe!" Ella yelled at you from across the classroom.

   You looked at her and Ruth, sitting and eating some potato chips. You and Ruth used to go to the same kindergarten once, but your mind forgot everything about those times, apart from the embarrassing moments that you actually wanted to wipe away from your memory forever. You thought about asking the Radiance for help in that matter, but the others quickly opposed it. They weren't fond of the idea of the moth god wondering through your head and honestly, neither were you but, Dear Lord! were those memories embarrassing. Ella was an ok girl, a bit too self-absorbed and spoiled for you, but she wasn't mean or anything. Still, her comment slightly pissed you off.