Wrath of Geography

I slumped against the back of a tree at the beach, blasting a million curses at the one who caused so much agony to me, and perhaps all the students, since the start of the year.

Geography.

I mean, seriously, who can squeeze out a 1000-word essay on water shortage? Essays were only part of the torture, though.

Map reading was world-class torture device. I was pretty sure my myopia would’ve worsened by at least five hundred degrees just by looking at the teeny-tiny features of the map. Thank goodness I didn’t, but if I did, I’d make sure Geography would pay for my new glasses.

Why should I pay for something I didn’t do?

The voice sounded in my head yet again, dripping with false innocence. It was like a monotonous lullaby sang by a rabid cat trying to cough up a fur ball. Hey, isn’t that the voice of my geography teacher? Didn’t know that she was telepathic.

Man, that was scary. The last thing I needed was that old hag rambling on and on about the latitudes and longitudes in my head while I was taking a shower.

You had better be glad she isn’t telepathic, because I’m pretty sure she wouldn’t like it. Show some manners!

I jumped. At least my geography teacher didn’t have any freaky super powers. I wouldn’t have to worry about drowning in flood waters every single time I cursed her in my mind.

She may not be able to do it, but I can and will.

Shit. Shouldn’t have said that.

A wall of sea water suddenly rose and smashed into me at full force. The air was ripped out of my lungs as my rib cage threatened to give in to the sheer force of the impact. For that one horrible moment, I was convinced I would die at the hands of… well, whoever this bitch is.

Almost as suddenly as it came, the sea receded, but not completely. The entire coast line was submerged in knee-deep water. I trudged forward... and something underfoot went squelch. The water around me turned a horrible shade of red tinged with green scum. Swallowing the bile rising in my throat, I plunged my hands into the water and tried to locate the source of nightmare.

Man… I wished I hadn’t.

I fingers closed around something slimy and I brought it out of the water. One look at the exposed insides of a fish was enough to make my insides come outside.

I was pretty sure I heard a certain bitch chuckling with satisfaction.

Not cool, bitch. Who are you anyway?

I thought the answer was obvious. Who taught you about floods?

Floods… Didn’t I learn about it in geography? Which meant… The lunatic yelling in my mind was… Geography? Wow. I never thought I’d find anyone worse that my geography teacher.

Looks like you haven’t learned your lesson about manners.

I snorted. Did you really think I’d be polite to some lunatic who just gave me the world’s worst shower?

Geography stayed silent, but I was pretty sure she was a step away from erupting like a volcano.

Volcanic eruption? Why didn’t I think about that before?

Something about her tone made my skin crawl. Ummm... What exactly are you planning?

Let’s revisit the topic on volcanoes, shall we? I’m pretty sure you’d like some first-hand experience.