The closest thing you can call an inciting incident happened during second period in the worst possible class with the worst possible teacher, Dr. Thompson. He had the personality of someone who tried to become a cop ten years ago but failed and was still bitter about it. He was strict, loud, rude and egotistical beyond measure. He was a balding middle aged white guy who always came to class dressed in a crisp white shirt and black dress pants, like he was a somebody. He was obsessed with people referring to him as “Dr”, a lesson we were all quick to learn because although he never said it outright, the students who didn't refer to him by his preferred title were definitely being penalized on the tests.
Personally, I think it’s a great thing to put yourself through university, that’s the whole reason I stopped talking to the others. I just don’t think that a doctorate in history gives you a right to act like you’re better than the rest of us, when you're teaching a grade eleven math class. His opinion of himself was as high as his opinion of us was low. He absolutely despised us. It wouldn’t surprise me if it turned out that he actually enjoyed the sound of students crying. He did not trust any student as far as he could throw them, always thinking that we were up to no good doing drugs or stealing. To the point where we're not even allowed to bring the textbooks home with us, instead we have to take photos of the homework pages and return the textbooks to the shelf, at the end of class.
I was sitting at the back of the class when it happened. I remember staring at the clock that hung over the door waiting for the moment that I could pack up and leave. I had my textbook open on a random page and my head resting on my hand to give the idea that I was paying attention. It wasn’t hard, since his attention was almost always divided among some of the other more troublemaker students. Like Neil, who was the only relief from the doctor's mind-numbing lectures with his half decent jokes. Or Brad who usually was half asleep, leaning back in his chair during his lectures. To Amanda and her gaggle of faceless friends who had my respect for never once even pretending to pay attention to his lecture and instead just texting their fling of the week. I would never have enough confidence to do something like that, either disrespecting the doctor right in front of his face or dating. So needless to say, I never drew that much attention, since the worst I've ever do is impatiently count down the seconds before I could do anything other than be in his class.
I remember trying to think of something to do after school, looking around at my classmates thinking that I could try to hang out with one of them. Maybe David, he was usually doing something interesting and trying to get other people to join him. Or maybe Jeffery, he's always inviting people to his house to play videogames with him. I took a glance at the middle of the class where I saw Tyrone, Gumas and Antonio, I immediately diverted my gaze, the sight of them making me sick. Deciding that when class ended, I would just go home and work on my sculpture like i always did, the deadline was coming up and I was going to be damned if those sorry excuses for human beings were going to ruin my life and take away my chance at success.
I started to stare at the clock again hoping that an hour had magically passed in the last five minutes I looked. When I noticed the oddest thing smoke was rising from my textbook. I waved my hand through it so I could feel the heat, telling me there’s no way it could be a trick. Taking a quick glance around the classroom showed smoke coming out of some of the other textbooks, but it seemed like my classmates hadn’t noticed yet. Wanting to be sure that what I was seeing was real and not just some weird delusion of my mind, I had decided to place my hand on the book because if smoke was coming off it then there must be something inside of the textbook creating heat. But as I was about to press my hand against the textbook when I heard the nagging voice of my mother in the back of my head.
“If it’s hot enough to create smoke then it's hot enough to burn you! Use the back of your hand! It’s safer that way.” Listening to the words in the back of my head I gently placed the back of my left hand onto the textbook. Only to immediately be met with sharp blistering pain, as if I had just placed my hand onto a searing hot frying pan.
“AUGHHHH!!!!” I cried out in pain, nearly falling out of my seat in the process.
“Mr. Yang” Dr. Thompson disapproved as he continued to write some meaningless equation on the whiteboard. “I would think that you would know by now that I do not appreciate these kinds of outbursts during my lessons, please keep that in mind unless you would like to be speaking to the principal in the next few minutes.” He threatened still not taking his eyes off the whiteboard as the rest of the class looked at me in confusion, only a few noticing my hand.
“It's not my fault! The textbook burnt my hand!” I protested, every word a struggle to get out.
The doctor let out a long and exaggerated sigh pausing his writing only briefly before continuing. “Mr. Yang while I'm sure that your classmates appreciate your jokes, but I think you will be disappointed with how your life progresses if you continue to mimic Neils behavior!”
“IM NOT JOKING LOOK AT MY GODAMN HAND!” I screamed stumbling out of my chair holding my hand high up for the whole class to see. At this remark Dr. Thompson spun around to yell but fell silent as he saw what later be would later identify as second-degree burns. My hand was bright red with white blisters starting to form. He and the rest of my classmates looked at my hand in stunned and horrified silence, before some of the other classmates started to notice that their textbooks were acting strangely too.
“Uh sir my textbook is making smoke? Informed Tulip.
“Yeah, my pen’s melted to my book” a concerned classmate brought up.
“Well, it seems that you were indeed telling the truth Mr. Yang I would suggest going to the nurse's office immediately, and for the rest of you please stay in your seats until I can figure out what is going on.”
“YEAH OBVIOUSLY!” I yelled, holding my arm in pain as I slowly started to hobble towards the front of the room, it was slow going because due to the burns every step was agony. The room was quickly filled with the concerned cries and outbursts of various students over the strange textbooks. Dr. Thompson looked around concerned unsure what to do, and although the textbooks were quickly growing hotter and hotter by the second it wasn’t until I think August yell out, “I think they're starting to burn!” when every textbook, including the spares at the back, ignited in a roiling flame.
I was lucky that I was already a couple desks away as if I stayed, I would have been burned much worse. As the flames grew panicked screams erupted from every direction. Not knowing what was going on, but knowing that I needed to get out, I continued to make my way towards the door. As I did, I saw the various reactions of my other classmates.
One had taken his sweater off and was trying to use it to put the fire out, which only helped to spread it as it quickly caught fire. Turning into what was essentially now a flaming Morningstar. Amanda was letting loose a bloodcurdling scream as some of her hair had caught fire. Brad ran forward weaving through our horrified classmates and through the door into the hallway.
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Some students were trying to get as far away from the fire as possible by pressing themselves against the walls so hard that for a second you would've thought that they were going to turn into a painting. The doctor stood there in stunned silence looking more scared than some of the students who were on fire. I had managed to get about to the middle of the classroom, my hand still in a deep pain that would only grow greater in the coming weeks.
At this point Brad had come back now brandishing a fire extinguisher that he used on the desk closet to him, quickly stopping and moving to the next desk after a few seconds, only for the fire that was thought to be quenched to erupt in flame again with the same if not more intensity. Brad tried repeatably in vain to put out the fires only for them to erupt in flamer each time.
By the time I managed to get to the front of the classroom I heard someone yell out, I think Alex. “WHERE IN THE HELL ARE THE SPRINKLERS!” As if on cue every sprinkler shot off like a rocket forming ice cold beams of water that went off in a dozen different directions hitting each and every fire, until all that was left of the textbooks were damp ash. After the smoke cleared you could see clearly that at every desk was a decent size indent with a pool of ashy water lying in it.
Some days I wished I died in that fire, that I had just accepted my fate and let myself be consumed by the flames. Because although their dance would've hurt like hell when it ran across my skin it still would've been a mercy compared to the pain I have had to experience, and the memories and sins I am forced to live with.
The whole room stood silent unsure of what had just happened or what to do. All I could do was stare at my classmates. Some looked like they might faint, others looked like they were on the verge of tears. A jolt of pain brought me back to my senses and remembering years' worth of lectures from mom about proper first aid I hobbled to one of the indented desks and placed my hand into the cooling water reliving me of some of the pain.
Seeing me, several of my classmates followed suit. Some had easier times than others since there's burns were only on their hands while some managed to scorch there entire arm burned in the inciting madness. I think I saw someone dipping their entire face in the pool, the extent of the injuries I do not remember. No words were spoken, only sighs of relief and the quiet dripping of tears as we washed away some of the pain. The thing to finally break the silence was the befuddled Dr. Thompsons attempt at a sentence.
“Uh...um...I’m...wha...children stay here?” was all he was able to muster out before he turned to the door and left. After a few moments of stunned silence over the fact that our teacher would just abandon us, everyone quickly started to congregate into groups. The girls gathered into two groups, one led by Amanda and the other led by Tulip and Alex. Most of the guys started to form around Brad talking about how brave he was for trying to get a fire extinguisher. Antonio Tyrone and Guams stayed at their desks in the middle just keeping to themselves. My remaining classmates formed a small clique. Leaving me alone silently drenching my hand in water not bothering to make useless idle chatter.
Amandas flock, the shallow farts that they are, were all comforting her over her burnt hair. Brad's friends were treating him like some kind of hero as if one small, good deed made up for a giant bad one. Tulip and Alex looked like they were gossiping with the rest of their group. I think I saw Tulip make a couple of odd glances at me and Tyrone. Me with genuine concern and him with confusion. Tyrone and Guams were laughing their butts off probably because it looked like Dr. Thompson was about to cry when he walked out of the room. While Antonio just looked pissed, he never was one for taking joy from others misery.
After maybe ten or so minutes Dr. Thompson returned alongside our principal Ms. Shepard. She wore a plain brown suit and heels with her quickly graying hair tied up in a bun. She was by far the most hated member of faculty with her strict no slack attitude, not to mention the rumors of her implementing a uniform policy next year. The room fell silent as she looked around at the destruction, in quiet calculation she turned to Dr. Thompson and spoke in poorly conceived whisper. “You weren't lying!” She closed her eyes, for a few seconds before clasping her hands together and speaking in her usual authoritative voice.
“Children please pack your bags. You will all be let out early, so we can figure out what caused this. Your education may temporarily be postponed for a couple days. We are unsure specifically as of right now, but we will be emailing you more specifics in the coming days. Anyone who has been injured due to this event can head to the nurse's office for proper treatment.”
“Wait does that mean that the buses will also be coming early?” Questioned Sylvester.
“No, I don’t believe so, the bus will be showing up at their normally schedule tim--But they don’t get here for like three hours!” protested Sam.
“You can either wait or figure something out!” Ms. Shepard snapped before walking out the door with Dr. Thompson following quickly behind.
“No wonder she's single at forty-eight Guams joked, causing the rest of the class to erupt in laughter. Except for me since I have heard this joke way too many times for it to still be funny.
Deciding that I was more impatient than I was in pain, I quickly started to pack my bag, making sure to only use my right hand so as not to hurt myself anymore. As I was trying to wipe the wet ash off my stuff the intercom turned on with the voice of the principal.
“School is cancelled for the rest of the day effective immediately as we investigate an incident. Please pack your bags and make arrangements to get home safely. Buses will be arriving at their normally scheduled time. We will be in touch with your parents if there will be class tomorrow.” The announcement was met with instant cheers and celebration from the part of the school who didn’t receive second degree burns a couple minutes ago.
As I finished packing my bag Antonio and Tyrone approached me. Something odd that I didn’t notice up until that point was the fact that Tyrone was gripping a strange book rather tightly. It was an old leather-bound tome with four bindings on the spine. Each one was a different colour red, blue, brown and white. I looked at the two of them with cold uncaring eyes, for there was no love or compassion for them anymore, not after what they did. “What do you want?” I asked dryly.
“We wanna show you something we found a couple days ago, it's pretty cool and I think you'll get a kick out of it.” Tyrone exclaimed excitedly, wonder in his voice.
“Unless it’s a way to get my future back then I'm not interested.” I spat zipping up my bag.
“Oh, come on that was months ago.” Antonio whined.
“Yeah, how can you still be upset about a stupid statu— Oh I don't know maybe it's because you imbeciles ruined my life!” I yelled, silencing the rest of the class as they eagerly started to watch a show.
Now noticing the rest of the class getting some twisted pleasure out of this, adrenaline started to flood our brains and get the better of all of us. “Oh calm down Ink he's trying to be nice! Maybe you could learn a thing or two.” Antonio spat.
“Yeah, and maybe while I'm at it you can go to your mother and have her remove the textbook, I'm about to shove down your throat! You incompetent excuse for a human being!” I snapped.
“You were never going to win anyways your just upset because we just sped up the process.” Guams mocked now coming over to the rest of us.
“Oh, so now you decide to stand up for yourself! Last time I checked you were running away tail behind your legs.” I retorted causing a cacophony of “Oooos” to echo throughout the classroom.
“Jeezs I always knew you were a sensitive little snowflake, but this, this is really something! Tyrone Jeered.
I stared at him knowing he had a point but not wanting to give him any satisfaction, I decided to dig the knife far too deep. “You know Tyrone I think I know why you did it's so you wouldn't be alone, so that when the years go by and everyone has left and forgotten about you, you wouldn't be alone. Because at least by destroying the thing most precious to me you would still have one person in the same boat as you, stuck living in their parents shop with no room to expand or escape, forced to watch as everyone gets to live their happy life without you anywhere near it.” The room fell to a dealing silence, taking the opportunity, I grabbed my stuff and left.