BEEP BEEP BEEP

I woke up to the blaring of my alarm clock. It was too early for it to be a monday, so I hit the snooze button and promptly fell back to sleep.

BEEP BEEP BEEP

The stupid thing went off again. One day I should take a hammer to it. Sunlight was now peeking in through my window.

“Shit!” I yelled, “Stupid alarm making me late for work, do your job like you are supposed to!”

Grumbling, I rolled out of bed and fumbled on my nightstand for my glasses, and groggily stumbled out of my bedroom into the kitchen. Just like it had every morning for the past two years what greeted me was my plain faded kitchen. I opened the fridge in an attempt to find something exciting, what I met was your typical bachelor fridge, a carton of milk, multiple twelve-packs of soda, orange juice, and random assorted lunch meats. I carefully checked to see if anything new had miraculously made its way into my fridge. No luck like usual. Sighing I grabbed the milk and promptly followed up by grabbing one of the twelve boxes of Fruit Loops I keep in my cabinets.

Pouring myself a bowl of cereal, I walked to the entrance of my apartment grabbed the newspaper sticking through the mail slot, and walked back into the kitchen. I read the front page of the Wall Street Journal, fruit loops mindlessly entered my mouth as I read the typical political shenanigans of both parties. I sat at the kitchen table reading for a good twenty minutes before I realized I was eating from an empty cereal bowl like an idiot.

I walked over to the sink and started to wash my bowl. I glanced out of the window, it was a beautiful September morning, and the cactus I kept on the windowsill had actually managed to die.

“How did it manage to die if I watered it once a week?”

I pondered to myself as I looked out the window. For a time I was lost in a world of thoughts about cacti, Fruit Loops, and rainbow colored balloons. Then the rainbow balloon popped and I snapped out of my reverie. I took a quick peek at the rickety old analog clock hanging above the calendar.

“Shit, gonna be late!”

In a rush I showered and quickly donned my charcoal grey suit and azure bow-tie. Duffle in hand, I took the stairs four at a time as I sprinted to my car. It was 6:30 am and hardly anyone was out yet. Noticing the relative lack of people I sighed in relief as I made my way to my car. I parked on the street. The lack of a parking garage was the only negative this apartment building had, the St. Louis area gets bad hailstorms in the spring occasionally.

My car is my pride and joy. A 1998 Toyota Camry I fixed myself, and thus that I own myself, no stupid car payments. I plugged my iPod into the cassette adapter I have in my car and twentyonepilots started playing through the speakers.

“I’m fallin’, so I’m takin’ my time on my ride.”

I always sing along, even if I’m really bad at singing. Unfortunately I was unable to take my time on this ride and drove as fast as I legally could to work. I pulled up into the teachers lot and parked. Stepping out of my car I smiled, another day of teaching ahead of me.

I was in work mode now, taking swift strides I walked to the staff entrance. I pulled my staff ID out of my wallet and checked it. Timothy J. Bailey followed by a bar code and a string of numbers.

“Well that checks out.”

Humming a different twentyonepilots song I touched my ID to the scanner and opened the door. The hallways were silent and devoid of noisy students, just the way I like them. It was only 6:55 so I leisurely walked to my office in the history department. Out of an eight period day, I only taught five classes, the first three and the last two periods. I taught AP Euro, World at War, and AP Human Geo. Today was test day for my classes. More like surprise Monday pop-quiz day but you get what I mean. I cracked my knuckles and sat down at my desk to check the tests I had prepared.

“Magna Carta.. Mhrm… ermm the Treaty of Versailles… Aviation in warfare…”

I sat there reading over my tests. The ticking of the clock and my disjointed mumbling was interrupted by the opening of the door to the history office.

“Dr. Bailey, administration wants to talk to you, are you busy?”

Ms. Patterson the secretary for the history department had come in. Sometimes she annoyed me. She looks like she is forty years passed retirement and reeks of cat piss. I quickly wrote the bonus question for each test.

Who is the best history teacher at Clayton High School?

A) Professor Bailey B) Dr. Bailey C) Mr. Bailey

I love adding fair bonus questions to my tests, especially when the bonus question pertains to some obscure reference that has no relation to what is being studied.

“I just finished Ms. Patterson, I will head over to administration in just one moment.”

I stored the tests in my duffle bag, stood up, and followed the smelly old cat lady to the meeting. She left me at the entrance to the building. ‘Coward!’ I thought, as I walked in. I gave a cordial ‘Hello’ to Sandra who sat behind the front desk, and took a right. Arriving in front of a door I stopped and took a deep breath. To the left of the door read a sign, 114 Head of Curriculum. I pulled open the door and stepped inside.

The office was neat and orderly, a few pictures hung on the walls, a potted plant stood in the corner of the room, on a elegant wooden desk were some random gee-gaws and a computer. There were two people in the room, one was sitting behind the desk the other in an IKEA chair adjacent to an empty one.

“So glad you could join us this morning Dr. Bailey.” The woman behind the desk greeted me.

“”No problem at all, thank you for meeting with me this early in the morning Ms. Deirhorn.” I replied.

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

The woman behind the desk was Ms. Deirhorn, head of curriculum in the school district, she was one of those middle-aged very nice, strict people. The person sitting in the chair had long black hair, and was female. That was all I could tell because she hadn’t turned around.

“Why don’t you grab a seat.”

Up until this point I was still standing. I had not been paying attention. Thanking Ms. Deirhorn, I sat down in the unoccupied chair.

“Before you two say anything or ask any questions, I have a few things I need to mention.” She cleared her throat a few times before continuing. “Dr. Bailey, the school board agreed to the implementation of your textbook in the curriculum, congratulations.” Ms. Deirhorn paused and took a deep breath before continuing again. “However this was thanks to Ms. Nelling volunteering to act as editor for the textbook you submitted. Without her your proposal would have been shot down.”

I turned to the person on my right. It was the school librarian Ms. Nelling. I offered my hand for a handshake.

“Ms. Nelling, I deeply appreciate the help you gave me. If I had known about this I would have prepared something to give you as thanks.”

“No need, it was an enjoyable experience.” She quietly responded as she shook my hand.

“Well if you need something just ask.”

She gave a faint nod in reply. I turned my attention back to Ms. Deirhorn.

“Well that is all I had to tell you,” she said turning her head to look at me, “You are free to go, I have a few more things to discuss with Ms. Nelling here.”

Hearing this I gave my goodbyes, turned, and left the office. I hurried out of the administration building at a brisk trot. Once I was outside I silently started celebrating. Having this textbook was important to being independent. I was buzzing with joy. The rest of the day passed by in a happy blur as I imagined my future. Even the idiot students who always complain about history and call it stupid were unable to bring me down.

I stayed after school had ended to grade the tests I had given. The quiz for AP Human Geo was literally a map quiz over the fifty states and someone had managed to get a zero. I don’t know how that is even possible to do. At 17:30 I finished grading and packed my bag. I tidied up my desk and shut off my computer. Finally I left the school and took my car back to my apartment. Along the way I stopped for a celebratory dinner at my favorite Chinese restaurant. Cheap delicious buffet food.

It was 18:57 when I finally entered my apartment. I threw my duffel on the kitchen table and changed out of my suit into pajamas. I grabbed a Mountain Dew from the fridge and took it into my office. I opened it and took a seat in front of my computer. It was time for another period of binge watching youtube videos.

The phone rang halfway through the third Northernlion video I was watching in a row. I ignored it. If they really wanted to reach me they could leave a message. A few seconds later it rang again.

“Damn idiots always interrupting my quiet time.” I grumbled as I paused the video and picked up the phone. “Hello, Bailey residence, Timothy speaking.”

“Pick up the phone when it rings you ungrateful brat!”

I quickly moved the phone away from my ear. It is my mother, here to yell at me for something else that I failed to do as her son.

“After all the things your father and I have done for you, you still treat us like this!”

The next ten minutes were spent listening to her usual tirade. Eventually she petered out.

“Mother what do you want?” I asked.

“Your father and I have agreed to let you be independent on one condition.”

I stopped. They were really going to let me go? This had to be a major condition.

“I’m listening.” I could hear my heart beating in my chest.

“We have arranged your marriage.” Mother said, “She is a very nice girl, from a very good family, and she works at your current school.”

Who was it? Another sheep like me at my job?

“We came to an arrangement with her family, and she will be moving in with you tonight. Don’t dissapoint us.”

She then hung up the phone. Silence filled the room, broken by the faint ticking from the clock in the kitchen. I am most likely in shock. Not really sure. I just sat there not moving, thinking, just doing nothing.

…

…

KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK

Someone was at my front door. Was it the mailman? At this hour? It’s a little late to be getting the mail, it’s probably just a solicitor. I walked out of my office and opened the front door.

“I’m not interested in whatever you are selling, please go away.”

I looked at the person standing there.

“Good evening, I am Diana Nelling, our parents arranged our marriage.” This was said by Ms. Nelling, standing in front of my door with a suitcase beside her.

I held the door open, mouth hanging open like an idiot.

“The rest of my belongings will arrive tomorrow.” She continued, “May I come inside?”

“Sure.” I mumbled.

I held the door open for her. She glanced around my apartment. It was kind of small, kitchen, bathroom, living room, bedroom… As I thought this Diana walked back to the door.

“Where should I put my bag?” She asked quietly.

“There is only one… bedroom…” I stammered.

“Oh.” She said. A few seconds later a look or realization appeared on her face, and then it turned red.

“So where should I sleep?” Diana said, her face tomato red.

I collapsed on the floor.