Tardy

It's On My Birth Certificate and Everything

The school bell has always held different meanings for me. A year ago, I welcomed the soft ringing that signaled the change of the period. It brought around a new class. A new exploration of the principles of psychology, the basics of forensic science, the tales of some distinguished literary character, and conversations with friends. Friends.

Friends were scarce these days. After the incident, they just couldn't handle the emotional baggage that I now had to lug around. In the beginning, they tried to offer their best form of support. Knowing they could never understand what I was going through because they weren't in my shoes, and glad not to be, they offered their shoulder to cry on. But as time went on, that shoulder disappeared and so did the people attached to them.

So now, the bell was the audible embodiment of torture. It now brought around a new hellhole. A new exploration of repetitive lectures, the basics for faking an interest in class, and for today, an hour-long detention.

I had heard stories about detention before. Never once did I think that I was going to experience it for myself. Detention was the place where the headaches of the class go to repent for their crimes, receive their punishment, as well as providing the time for some much needed self-reflection. The punishment for the crime varied for each teacher. If you had detention with Ms. Johnson, you weren't in for much of retribution. She merely used her "detentees" for cleaning up her classroom. The most you had to worry about was getting chalk dust off your shirt or having to pick up a used tissue with your bare hands. But if you had Mr. Herbert for detention, you better run for cover.

He was a harsh man to have in the classroom. For one, he was a stickler for punctuality. Fifteen seconds late on a Monday, you were given detention for that whole week. Obviously, I wouldn't last five seconds with him. Second, he wasn't one for providing clarification on difficult topics, well, any topic really. Being a former military man, Mr. Herbert was a man of maximizing his time. He thoroughly plans his classes to cover the most amount of information within his time constraints. From the moment you step into class, his lesson has begun. If on that day the topic of his class was The World Wars, then best believe that by the end of the period he will have gotten through every battle, every commanding general, every treaty, every piece of technology, and every country involved. That meant, that if you had a question, comment or anything, you were to keep it to yourself and research it later. "Interruptions will not be tolerated" is what he told his students the first the day they stepped in his class. Tony Oliver thought it would be ok to challenge Mr. Herbert, and he has regretted it ever since.

But those were other teachers and they just stories. Before today, Mrs. Brady had never held afterschool detention. Based on what happened this morning, who knows what she'll do.

After last period was over, I grabbed my bag and made my way into the hallway. It's already filled with eager to leave students making their way to their lockers. It's like walking through the water with a tide that pushes you back and forth, not letting you reach your destination. I try to push through the crowd but then I'm pushed into the yellow sophomore lockers. I pull myself off of it to realize that the locker door has a dent in it. Not a dent made from a simple shove into the door but from something banging, hard against it. Then I'm reminded of what made that dent and the vivid memory returns to my head. The sudden thought overwhelms me. I touch my face to wipe away the sweat dropping down to realize that it was tears. Was I crying this whole time?

I look around and catch a glimpse of the passerby's staring. I can't take the staring; not right now. The next thing I know, my feet are taking me to the nearest bathroom stall. I enter the stall, close the door, climb on top of the grimy toilet, crotch down, and cry. Of all the lockers in the school, why did I have to slam into that locker?