An Interesting Interuption

I usually enjoy Mrs. Kleen’s lessons but today she was different. Her long, dark brown hair was pulled back into a neat ponytail; she always kept her fringe down. It was too short to do anything with it and you’d often find it tickling the tip of her nose while she spoke.  Perched on her computer chair she spoke clearly and precise; a hint of sarcasm never far from her tone.

“Today we’re going to start to read the book ‘Lord of the Flies.’ This book is about taking away the laws that we live with and how it can effectively change a society. ” She said. While people flicked through the pages of their books indifferently, I had already read through the first couple of pages. I already liked the sound of this book when a sharp knock on the door had thirty pairs of eyes sweep the classroom, all of them staring at the ruby red door that shielded our visitor from being seen.

Without looking up from her work Mrs. Kleen’s firm voice called "Come in."

As the door opened and the visitor stepped inside, he began to speak. His voice travelled across the classroom and I whipped my head up from my book. That's the same voice I had heard this morning. A man in his early twenties with short, mousey brown, loosely curled hair stood at the back of the classroom, a table away from mine. His eyes swept each person in turn as if to observe their reactions while he spoke. When it got to me I tried to avoid eye contact. There's nothing worse than having to look anyone straight in the eye, it feels like they're probing your soul, finding out who you really are. So instead I looked him up and down, observing his appearance. Today, he was wearing a crisp white shirt that fit snug on his athletic body. He wore smart black trousers that emphasized his figure. A black tie hung neatly on his chest completing this somber yet handsome look. I felt embarrassed that he was staring at me. I kept telling myself that he’s staring because he knows how clumsy I’d been this morning.

Annoyed by my own assumption I muttered “Damn teachers.”

“Do you have something to share with the class?” Mrs. Kleen was clearly not amused.

I looked up and realized I’d made myself heard. I replied “No. Sorry.”

 “Please, can you step outside a moment?” She said. She wasn’t asking. She was telling.

I couldn’t believe it. Unintentionally and irrationally my anger boiled to the surface as I replied with venom.

“What? Why? I didn’t do anything.”

“Go now! Do not make me drag you out by your ear.” She replied still humoring the rest of the class.

Scowling, I got up and noticed Mr. Hugh was staring at me. I swore a small smile flickered across his face. My eyes narrowed as I glared hatefully at him. Slamming the door behind me I sat on the steps that I’d previously fallen up earlier that day. As cool air drifted through the white washed corridor I felt my face cool and guilt washed over me. I really shouldn’t have been rude but it irritated me that she was so harsh about a minute comment. Trying to postpone my thoughts I stared at the corridor that stretched out ahead of me. At the end of this corridor, a set of double doors separated the English corridor from ICT. To the left, next to these doors, was a flight of stone steps leading up to Math. The carpet on the floors was a filthy grey stained with the chewing gum and DNA of thousands. Staring out of the clean window that enhanced the corridors light, I heard the door opened and someone step outside. This is it I thought. She’s ready to shriek at me for whatever is bothering her at the moment.   

“Zora, Can I speak to you a moment?” a calm, semi – deep male voice spoke.

I spun around to find Mr. Hugh stood with his back against the closed door. He watched me with no emotion shown behind his aqua veil. Great. I’m getting double the yelling. It makes it worse when a teacher shows no emotion. It usually hurts more.

“Depends, are you going to shout at me?” I replied.

Not quite the respond I should have come out with following the given events.

 “No I’m not. Although I will mention this, when she asked you to leave, I don’t think it was to do with your response to her question.” He responded.

I stood processing my thoughts. So maybe, she really wasn’t mad at me? I was so blind, I never thought.

“Oh right…well maybe I should apologize. What did you want to speak to me about?” I asked, curiosity snaking its way into my mind like ivy vines.

“A bit of advice…don’t expect an answer to every question you ask. There’s always time to learn. Rush your life and you’ll regret what you didn’t take a second to cherish. Not everything is around forever, you’ll learn soon enough.” He said.

With that he walked away swiftly and disappeared into the second ruby door along this plain corridor. Staring after him, his words swimming like poison in my mind. What was he on about? How is this relevant to me? His last words rung in my mind, ‘Not everything is around forever, you’ll learn soon enough.’ I sighed and sunk onto the tiled icy steps. Could this day get any weirder?

Shaking my head I turned around to find Mrs. Kleen staring at me with curiosity.

“Oh err, Hey Miss.” I said hoping to divert her curious stare elsewhere.

“Zora, I will not tolerate cheekiness in my class. You of all people should know this. Now help me with some books out of the English cupboard down the hall.” She said.

No question in her voice, just commands. With this she walked briskly to the English store cupboard at the end of same hallway I’d glanced up merely 5 minutes ago. Instead of going through the double doors we took a sharp right and two doors were visible, One to the left, One in front. Before we reached this turning I glanced into the classroom next door to Mrs. Kleen’s. A window next to the door gave me a perfect view of the room. Inside all the blinds were closed and a silhouette was leant over a piece of paper, writing. I couldn’t believe how dark it was considering how beautiful the weather was today.  Producing her keys she selected the right one and unlocked the dingy cupboard door. Inside was just as dirty as the door. Two shelves on each side reached up to the ceiling carrying a wide selection of novels, plays and poems. I followed her lead as she began removing copies of ‘Romeo and Juliet’ from the shelves.

“So what are these for?” I asked.

“Reading?” she replied, her sarcastic nature surfacing.

“Well yes, I know that but I meant what year, why?” I replied.

“Year 10, Romeo and Juliet coursework,” Her replies were stiff and limited, “Back to the classroom then.”

In a hurry I turned around to leave this claustrophobic space and crashed into something. Twelve copies of Romeo and Juliet scattered all over the floor and an angry tut escaped from Mrs. Kleen’s lips. Irritated she stepped over me and walked off with her dozen copies, leaving me to pick up my share that I’d so carelessly dropped. Sighing, I dropped to my knees to collect the books and my dignity.

“Here let me help you.” That same semi deep voice whispered in my ear.

He was there again. This is awkward; twice I’ve embarrassed myself in front of him. They say everything comes in threes. I was praying that this wasn’t one of those things. Without saying a word we gathered up the spilt books and on the last one our hands brushed against each other. His pale white hand was ice cold. I jumped as if I got a static shock and stood up. Taking the books from him, I nodded my appreciation and walked off quickly, my mind racing. He was like a corpse, cool to the touch.

            By now it was the end of the lesson and I left the books on Miss’ oak desk, grabbed my coat and bag. Without looking at her I hurried from the classroom. Standing outside her room I Slipped on my black hooded jacket, glancing up the hallway making sure no one was around. I swung my bag over my shoulder and made my way back towards the store cupboard. Instead of turning right, I took a left and made my way up the cold, yellow steps. Pausing on the landing that rested in between the two levels, I stared at the store cupboard. Shaking my head I walked up the steps in front of me.

The End

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