Somehow I went back to teaching. I was standing at the middle of the classroom, looking at my students. They were paired together on an assignment, and while I saw their faces, I thought I did not want to be there. It was only for the weekends, but those 2 days were the only off time I had at my other job, so why did I make the stupid decision to come back and do the job I hated the most? Well, It was not that bad, I always felt happiness when they thanked me for teaching them something new, but I didn’t like to be around stupid people, and boy they were stupid. So, as I walked around the room, peeking at their notebooks when I passed by their side, I wished I could be home instead of there.
I saw myself reflected on the mirror. I saw a tall woman with curly long hair, too messy to play with, who was neither fat nor thin. She was wearing formal clothing, high heeled shoes, all black, and there was discomfort in her face. Of course, she didn’t want to be there, and she was still wondering what the hell was she doing there when she should be resting the 40 hours she pulled every week on her ass, working a job she actually liked. Instead finding an answer to those questions, I found myself paired up with another student. I took a seat next to him, he showed me the activity we had to solve, and suddenly we were at it, looking at the pages and working on the assignment I had instructed us to do.
I had no time to complain about the weirdness of it all. I was doing what I should have done while I was still a student; studying with my partner, then there was somebody standing next to me, looking down on me as she tapped her foot on the floor. I looked at her. “That’s my seat.” She said, none too gently. She took a look at my face, then to the rest of my body. I didn’t feel self-conscious, because, well, I was prettier. Look at me and covet what you see, like Hannibal Lecter used to say. I smiled. What could this teenager do to me? I was older, and aggressive. I could kick her ass with my eyes closed and then cry about the pain I would feel in my hand, because I was aggressive, yeah, but I also bruised easily.
“It is mine now, thank you. You should look for your partner, we are doing a pair activity. Bye”. But she didn’t go. She talked some more. I don’t remember the words, but I do recall talking back. That was my most annoying feature: I was not the kind of girl who shut up and let herself be bullied. I bullied back, and my words were fierce, sharp, and poisonous. Of course they were, for I thought words were the most powerful weapon for us. You didn’t need to physically hurt someone, you could kill them with sentences. So I spoke my mind to her.
We ended up at the front of the classroom, the teacher, another one, tried to listen to our complaints. She said some lies, I called her on it. I knew I was winning, I always do. People lose to me because they either don’t wish to fight, or simply can’t. She couldn’t, she was too dumb to stand a chance, and I manipulated people for fun, this was only a warm up. The male teacher, whose face I’d never seen before, yelled at her, she shut her mouth and fill her eyes with tears. When that didn’t work, she walked away from us. Before she reached the door, she stopped. We all looked at her, she turned to us with a psychopathic smile that lit up her eyes. We couldn’t look away. We watched her face changed into a demonic mask. Her body began shaking, and her lips spat hoarse voices that assured us we were going to be killed.
The crowd that had gather together to see us fight scattered like rats. They all ran in different directions, I did the same thing. I made my feet run the fastest they had ever run. When I came into my senses again, I was not longer in a school. Now I was trying to hide in a strange place that may have been an empty mall. Her laughter sounded all over the place. I could see all the girls running and crying. She caught them while they were trying to escape. I saw her. She was horrible, she clearly was possessed by some kind of evil, and she wanted to kill us all. So I did the right thing. I let her butcher all those girls and ran as quickly as I could until I got home.
My mom opened the door, except she didn’t look like my mother, she had a different face, but I knew she had given birth to me. Anyway, I was happy to be home, away from the nut case back there. I remembered how she looked, I shuddered, then shook the fear off. I was safe from her. I told my mom I was going to change into my pajamas. I was too tired, the day had not been what I expected. I hated that, I lost my mind whenever things were not how I had planned them. Now I wanted to lay down on my bed, or on the sofa, and watch some tv, maybe that stupid Naruto, or the seventh season of Buffy. I didn’t take long, after I was done I went back to the living room. My mother had her back to me, she was doing something to the wall.
“What are you doing?” I asked.
Perhaps she saw a spot and was determined to make it go away.
She didn’t respond, but she did turn to face me. She was not my mom, she was the demon thing that was after me. She smiled and approached me, her face growing uglier and uglier at the time. I went still. My body and my mind disconnected, she kept coming at me. A few seconds later, as she walked toward me with threat in her yellow eyes, I began praying out loud. At the end of the prayer, I told the demon to go. I commanded it to go, on behalf of his lord. That always seemed to work in movies, so I hoped it worked now.
It did. The demon thing walked out and slammed the door shut. I let a sigh of relief leave my body. Everything was good now. I knew that damn thing would work.
There was a knock on the door. I opened it, and there it was. Only this time it was not a girl, but a man. The face was the same, the smile was also the same gesture that meant death. “I won’t go”. It said, laughing. I took some steps back, but I knew I had no chance to survive this again. He kept talking and threatening.
Then he said something about his dad, he hated his dad, and I hated mine. I told him we shared the same feelings of hatred, and we became friends.
When I woke up all lights were off. I felt something in my chest, a sensation I have every time I have a nightmare. I felt disoriented. I remembered the faces that I saw, the prayers I chanted, the demon that mocked me, and sensed fear again. I got out of bed, went to the bathroom, peeked at the darkness. After I went back to my room, I turned the tv and Netflix on. I took a look at the time. It was 4: 58 am. I sighed. I played a movie, then went back to sleep.
That’s what I get for watching horror movies at night.
And for reading books where the main two characters have daddy issues.
Do you like horror movies?