Chapter 2









Chapter 2


 


The school was alive with sights and sounds, though none of
them were pleasing. The resounding shudder of locker doors echoed through the
hall, and the dim florescent lights burned my eyes horribly. Students called to
one another from across the crowded corridor, almost unable to move in the busy
area. Tired, I shuffled my feet over the dirty, scuffed gray tile, weaving my
way slowly through the multitude.


 


In a bit, the halls began to thin out. The bell would ring
soon. Students were speeding up the pace, and there was an air of impatience
hanging in the air. The voices rang out as the clock slowly…ticked…


 


I slammed my locker door shut and bolted for my classroom.
DING! DING! DING! DI- The bell gave its usual three and a half rings before shutting
off. But I was happy. I had avoided being late.


 


“Sit down, Robin,” the teacher said in a bored voice.
Absentmindedly, she shuffled the papers on her desk. “Alright, who has their
reduced lunch forms?”


 


I got up with three other students and made my way up to her
desk. She took the paper from my hand, eyeing me suspiciously as I walked back
to my seat. I don’t know what her problem is, she’s just always STARING at me.
And I have no idea why.


 


“Take out your math books and turn to page 216,” she instructed.
First zippers were heard, and then came the all-too-familiar sound of flipping
pages. I lowered my eyes to the book.


 


“Okay, today’s lesson is about powers of monomials,” she
droned. I tuned her out, thinking about what I could do today. Mom said she was
going to the store. And when Mom said she was going to the store, that always
meant she was going to her date’s house and getting in bed. As sadistic as I
may be, I always enjoyed it when she went out afterwards and got drunk. It
meant an entire day for me to go out into the woods and have some fun. Well, at
least as much fun as someone can have in the woods.


 


“…And that’s what happens when you add the binomials,” the
teacher finished. “Robin, are you paying attention?” she snapped.


 


“Uh, yeah,” I said.


 


“Then tell me what two to the fourth, b to the second is!”


 


“Uh…32?” Childish snickers were heard throughout the room.


 


“No, it’s a trick question, stupid,” she announced bitterly.
“I hope you fail that test.”


 


She was, of course, referring to the TCAP test, which we
took every year in March. I didn’t really care. There was no way I would ever
make it into college. Heck, as soon as graduated I was going to be a trainer.


 


“Anyway, for those of you who are listening, the next thing
we do is take four and solve it for y,” she spat. I tuned her out again.


 


I took my pencil and drew little designs on my desk; hearts,
circles, and flowers. I then erased them. I needed something a bit more
challenging to draw. I picked up my pencil again and started on a detailed
picture of a Vulpix, completely oblivious to the impact this tiny drawing would
have on the rest of my life.


 


DING! DING! DING! DI- The bell sounded again. Everyone
jumped up and grabbed their backpacks, eager to be the first one on the bus. I
hefted my own backpack over my shoulder, and started to leave when I felt a
cold hand on my shoulder. “Robin, you stay here,” the teacher stated angrily.


 


She gripped my hand roughly and led me over to her desk. “I
don’t care who you think you are,” she said through gritted teeth. “When you
are in my class, you are my slave. When you are in my class, you will do what I
tell you to. When you are in my class, you will OBEY ME!” she screeched. By
now, I thought she had a serious mental problem. “WHEN YOU ARE IN MY CLASS, YOU
BELONG TO ME!” she laughed hysterically. “SO I’M NOT LETTING YOU OUT OF MY
CLASS!”


 


“Umm…why?” I asked. In all my life, I had never seen her act
this crazy before.


 


“SO I CAN MAKE YOU SERVE ME!” she was still holding my
wrist, and was now squeezing it much tighter than before. “And now…you are
going to take this gun,” she giggled, “and shoot it.”


 


I raised my eyebrows. “What gun?”


 


“THE GUN IN MY HAND!” she screamed, jabbing her finger in my
face. “TAKE IT!”


 


I looked in her hand. No gun. She had definitely lost it.
Even so, I figured maybe I could outsmart her. “I can’t do that unless you drop
my hand.”


 


She looked down at my hand, then at my eyes, then back down
again. “Well…alright,” she agreed, and released me.


 


I reached out as if to take an imaginary gun, but instead I
pulled her head down and gave her a forceful kick to the face. She staggered
back, moaning in pain before she collapsed on the floor, unconscious. I seized
the opportunity and bolted.


 


I didn’t stop until I was in front of the bus, which had
just pulled up. I scooted into a place in line, nervously looking back, almost
expecting the psycho teacher to come running out the doors. But she never came.
I hopped onto the bus, and took my place near the middle.


 


The doors closed with a squeak, and the bus started forward
with a jolt. It turned out of the school parking lot, and slowly began to pick
up speed. The bus driver turned on the radio. A soft, relaxing song was
playing, so I just sat back leisurely, and quickly drifted off to sleep.


 


Half an hour later, the bus was nearing the end of its
route. I’m the last one off, so I stood up and headed towards the front. My
blue mailbox was growing closer, closer…


 


And then we passed it.


 


“Umm, you passed my house,” I pointed out politely.


 


The driver gave me a strange grin. “I know.”