It was a groggy Monday morning when the first bell rang for classes to commence at Post Pacific High. The students stopped mid-conversation with their friends and slowly made their way down the uniform halls to attend to their educational responsibilities.
When they entered, the seats were filled and books were brought down on desks loudly in a way that clearly stated that the students would have rather been anywhere else but school. Then the teachers began their lectures and lessons in monotonous tones, making half the class fall asleep within the first few minutes of the endless period.
And despite the total "non-fun" that occurred during the day at Post Pacific High School, the facility ran pretty smoothly, and the students, on average, received good grades. But, as always, there was an exception.
Sixth period Geometry in room 605 was this exception. This class did not seem to want to get with the program. All the other periods of the class were fine, but something about this particular period was just...unruly. They talked too loud, never did their homework, and just disregarded all that was decent. The administrative staff was baffled at the fact that all the children in the class behaved so badly. There was not one good seed among them. Student schedules were randomly created by computers, so no one knew how the worst students in school could have been all brought together into one class. Some thought the class was purposely set up, but most agreed it was just freaky randomness.
And when the principal had tried to split them up, it was already two weeks after school had started, and schedules were now final and could not be changed. After three weeks had passed, their teacher, Mrs. Wheeler, was completely fed up. She refused to teach sixth period geometry for even one more day. The principal was running out of options quickly, and needed to find a solution to the madness. And it just so happens that on his way home, he met someone he knew could take care of the problem perfectly.
TUESDAY MORNING, 8:05 AM
The school bell echoed through the campus of Post Pacific High. Through the corridors and halls, students filed once again into their classes, and all the doors slammed shut as teachers began their lessons. The day went well, with no fights or school rules broken. The periods hopped by, and no one fell out of line, that is, until the bell rang for sixth period.
The students of sixth period Geometry congregated in front of room 605 and were surprised to find a sticky note attached to their door.
Mrs. Wheeler will not be teaching sixth period.
The students didn't know what to do. If their teacher wasn't going to be here, then how would they have class?
"I say we ditch," suggested Ryan, a gothic looking boy with dark black hair. The rest of them murmured their agreement, not at all worried about the consequences of skipping school.
"I say we don't," said a voice from behind them. The whole class was startled to find a tall woman with red hair and glasses waiting beside them. But her features weren't what startled them. What startled them was what the woman was wearing. In addition to her white shirt and red skirt, around the woman's neck was a very large, and very frightening, red snake.
The entire class froze as they stared at the serpent that was wrapped around the woman's body. She simply smiled warmly at their shocked expressions, and gestured toward the door.
"Isn't anyone going to open it?" she asked, her smile widening. After a few moments, a student dressed in what looked like rags was suddenly brought back to reality.
"Uh, it's locked," he said nervously, jiggling the door slightly to show it wouldn't budge.
"Oh, that's right," she said, pulling out a key from her pocket, "I have to unlock it." All the students quickly backed away from the red haired woman as she made her way towards the door, keeping their eyes on the snake around her. They were all afraid that it could somehow grasp them with its enormous tail, and all preferred to stay well away. It wasn't until the woman had entered the classroom completely when the students slowly stepped inside and found their regular seats.
By the time they had all been seated the woman had finished scribbling something on the white board.
Mrs. Dane
Then she turned back to face the students, and smiled warmly again, the snakes own head only inches from hers, its tongue flitting around it's mouth.
"Hello class, I'm your new teacher, Mrs. Dane," she said, looking over her new students, "and from now on I'm going to be teaching sixth period geometry."
The class nodded their heads in agreement, and did not start to throw paper airplanes, talk on their cellphones, or any of the other things that they usually did at the beginning of class. The bright red snake at the front of the room was holding firm the attention of the classroom. Even as Mrs. Dane began writing on the board and explaining some math problems, they stayed faced forward and did not start conversing with each other and ignoring her, like they did with Mrs. Wheeler on a regular basis. They continued to nod and nod, not really paying attention to what Mrs. Dane was actually saying.
"You see, the area of triangle is one half base time the height," Mrs. Dane explained, drawing a simple triangle on the board.
The class nodded once again, watching the red snake wrap around Mrs. Dane's neck. She seemed completely unaware of this, though, and just when a girl in the front row was about to yell for Mrs. Dane to stop the snake from strangling her, it loosened its grip. The whole class heaved a sigh of relief as Mrs. Dane turned to face them again.
"Now, who wants to volunteer to do this problem?" Said Mrs. Dane, pointing to an equation she had written down next to her drawing of the triangle.
Everyone remained silent. No matter what bizarre thing was at the front of the class, they would never actually participate in any learning.
Mrs. Dane smiled her wonderful smile again.
"No volunteers?," she said, scanning the room for a raised hand, "well, in that case, I'll use Walter."
Every one of the students were looking around, confused. There was no one named Walter in their classroom. They looked back to the front of the class and waited for Mrs. Dane to realize her mistake.
But almost immediately, the class realized who Walter was. The red snake around Mrs. Dane's neck began to slowly make it's way down her body and onto the carpeted floor. The students all watched in utter terror as it slithered between the aisles of seats, sometimes disappearing under cabinets and desks. After a while, the class lost sight of it, despite it's length.
Then someone in the back row of seats let out a horrified scream. The whole class spun around to find that it had been Katie, a tall blond haired girl in the very back seat. The snake was now crawling up her leg, but she was too afraid to move a muscle. The class then turned back to Mrs. Dane, but she was only smiling again. She didn't even offer to help Katie in any way. All she did was watch her snake work its way up the length of Katie's body, until its tongue flicked near her nose. Katie trembled slightly, not able to grasp what was happening to her.
"Thank you, Walter, for choosing our first volunteer," said Mrs. Dane clapping her hands. No one followed her example. Mrs. Dane pretended not to notice. "Now Katie," said Mrs. Dane, referring to her seating chart,"What is the answer to the equation?"
All eyes rested upon Katie. She was still trembling, and the class wasn't sure if she had even heard Mrs. Dane's question. Sweat began to form at Katie's forehead, and no one dared to make a move. And as if Walter was growing impatient, he licked the inside of Katie's ear, which caused her to jump.
She blinked her eyes rapidly, and quickly tried to focus on the equation on the board. After several moments, her mouth opened. But it wasn't until another several moments until she actually said something.
"t-twelve?" she said desperately, as if her very life depended on it.
"Correct," said Mrs. Dane, and Walter retreated back to her in an instant. Katie still shook even after the serpent had left her, and could not take her eyes off the board.
Then Mrs. Dane proceeded to write another equation on the board, and before she finished she said, "any volunteers for this one?"
When Mrs. Dane turned back from the board there was not a single student in the room who did not have their hand raised to its full extent.
I really liked the title. Nice job, I have no complaints.
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