"Sure is nice down there." Matt sighed… “Them and their ball...”
The hours went ticking by, slowly tiptoeing along their white plane of existence, and leaving everyone in the room hanging off the cliff… under pressure to let go and make it end. Their hands stiffened and went sore, one clenching a piece of paper and the other writing in a very constant, and… a tid bit too stressful pace. Not to mention the cold air beginning to flow inside the room, and believe me, it’s colder than the poles.
Matt wriggled on his desk, trying to find a comfortable position to sit in. He first tried a position of leaning himself against the window, which was comfortable for the most part. He looked down towards the ground, a bit bored. There were multiple people there, apparently playing football, the ball kind. What, did you think that we're on the other side of the pond?!
"Yo! Don't drool on the window, Matt." Otto snapped.
"H-huh, what the..."
Matt then subsequently hunched back down to his desk, took a deep sigh, and came face to face towards his notebook. The least he could do is to write down everything the teacher was explaining…
Speaking of which…
“Anyways, can anybody explain the meaning of competition?.. I can tell from the looks of your faces that none of you may enjoy what I’m explaining. Yes? Now all I am asking is to answer my question.”
The teacher was met with silence, that disrespectful kind of silence. Oooh, they really are the worst. Well at least there were some takers. That kid with dyed white hair and that brooding girl with the beanie. Might as well pick one of ‘em.
“Hmmm… You, Ms. Nantes. You look more dejected than usual. Why don’t you come up here and answer my question.”
“Well, thank you.” Moraine noted, “Err.... I kinda forgot about it. But, I do remember that it was the interaction of two parties and everybody will be hurt in the process.”
“You are kind of right with that.” Ms. Lynde said. “But, the point is that competition is crucial in order for both species, or parties as you said, to survive. Maybe because of limited resources, or something like a mate, but either way everyone gets hurt as you said.”
“So, what you are saying is that trying to survive is a fight?” Connor spoke out. “If that’s the case… then,
Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
“Lee! Forgot something important, I see...” Ms. Lynde snapped. “Raise your damn hand if you want to say something… Don’t want to talk? Then, whisper to yourself. Pro tip from someone like you.”
“Gee thanks for the tip…” Connor replied, although a bit sour.
Throughout the whole exchange, Matt went on in his constant stare of a brooding silent boredom. There was something in his eyes that really sold that look, probably the grey eyes. Most definitely. Though, he then looked down towards his notebook and stared at the writings he’d made. The pencil he'd pick up using Levitation earlier, it looked cool. The handwriting though.
…
Legible at best.
'Very nice handwriting if I do say so myself, that hit too close to home. Just like Nifa’s...'
Matt grumbled and dropped the pencil.
“NOW THEN!” Ms. Lynde shouted, waking everyone up. “I heard from the higher-ups that all of you, including the other class, will be going on a field trip. And it will be at the place where I used to work at.”
“Yeah, that’s right.” Twintails responded.
“Here’s a bit of advice, and also please put down your pens. Hands must be super, super tender now. When you get there, don’t stray away from the path the guide shows you. Mark my words on your hearts, or they’ll be broken by what you see.”
"Like the sight of you naked?" Connor smugly replied.
‘Uh oh… You shouldn’t have done that Connor.’
It just so happens a stock of masks were laying by, and it had just sold out. Nearly everyone in the class had put them on, save for a few souls. The masks had a very what the fuck have you done feel to it. Matt glanced his view towards Ms. Lynde. Ms. Lynde looked flushed, and probably pissed, she clenched her fists and scratched her scalp a ton.
"...I'll put it under maybe." She replied, trying her best not to harm Connor. "I’ll also give you the honor of being on my hitlist, Lee. You’ve pulled a straw and be happy it wasn’t the last. I’ve got a bone to pick with Petra and Harris first."
Connor sighed in relief. He stood up from his seat, quickly, and rushed to the entrance of the room. Snatching the hall pass, he slammed the door open. But he turned his now swirling red face towards Ms. Lynde, a middle-aged ginger.
“Can I go to the bathroom, butterflies are in me again.” He said, concerned.
“Meh, yes you can go. Class is about to end anyways so just make it quick.”
The boy smiled in relief, a creepy relief. He closed the door slowly, and pulled out a thumbs up and then a V sign. But the teacher just shook it off, no need to worry about this little thing.
But...
rumble...rumble...