Ms. Daniels was a veteran teacher at east cliffs High School, known for her keen sense of observation and her dedication to her students. On a chilly Wednesday afternoon, she found herself staying late, grading essays in her classroom. The school was almost empty, the halls quiet, except for the occasional echo of a locker closing or the distant chatter of the janitorial staff.

She stretched and stood up to pour herself a cup of coffee from the pot she always kept in her classroom. As she approached the door to stretch her legs, she heard faint voices coming from around the corner of the hallway. Her classroom was near a small alcove where students often gathered for private conversations. She wasn’t one to eavesdrop, but something about the hushed tones of the voices caught her attention. She paused just out of sight.

“It’s going to happen tomorrow. Are you sure you’re ready?” a male voice whispered urgently. She recognized the voice as belonging to Kevin, a junior who had always been a bit of a loner.

“Yeah, I’m sure. But, Kevin, what if someone finds out? This could get us into serious trouble,” replied a second voice, quieter and shakier. Ms. Daniels immediately knew it was Emily, one of her most diligent and bright students. She had always been so well-behaved and responsible.

Ms. Daniels felt a chill run down her spine. What were they planning? The tone of their conversation was so serious, almost sinister. She leaned closer, careful not to make a sound.

“No one’s going to find out,” Kevin insisted. “I’ve got it all planned out. You just have to follow my lead. Trust me.”

Ms. Daniels’ mind raced. She thought about confronting them immediately, but something held her back. She didn’t want to jump to conclusions, and she didn’t want to betray their trust if this turned out to be a misunderstanding. But what if it wasn’t? What if they were planning something dangerous?

“What about the others? Are they in?” Emily asked, her voice barely audible.

“They’re in,” Kevin confirmed. “Tomorrow, during the second period. That’s when it’s all going down. We’ll meet at the back of the gym.”

Ms. Daniels’ heart pounded in her chest. She thought of all the possible scenarios—none of them good. Was this a prank? A fight? Something worse? She needed to act, but she didn’t want to overreact. Her instincts as a teacher and her concern for her students battled within her. Should she call the principal? The police? Should she confront them now, before they could carry out whatever they were planning?

The conversation ended abruptly as Kevin and Emily walked away, their footsteps fading down the hall. Ms. Daniels stood there, torn between her responsibility to protect her students and the fear of making a mistake that could damage her relationship with them forever.

Returning to her classroom, she paced back and forth, her mind racing with uncertainty. She finally decided to check the schedule for the following day. Second period—what was happening during the second period? She saw that it was a school-wide assembly in the gym for a guest speaker. That didn’t calm her nerves; it only intensified them. A public gathering would be the perfect setting for something to go wrong if they were planning something serious.

She sat down at her desk, staring blankly at the pile of essays she had been grading, her coffee untouched and growing cold. She knew she had to do something, but what? Should she alert the school administration and risk being wrong, or should she trust her instincts that maybe, just maybe, these two students were caught up in something more innocent than it seemed?

As she wrestled with her decision, Ms. Daniels realized that whatever choice she made, she had to make it soon. Tomorrow was coming, and with it, the possibility of something she might not be able to prevent.

Her fingers hovered over the phone on her desk, debating whether or not to make the call that could change everything.

“I heard that she was kicked out of her old school.” A blonde haired girl said with a smirk. “I heard that she grew up on a farm, and slept with their pigs.” The other girl said with a haughty laugh. I walked past them eyeing the floor. Sure I was kicked out of my old school. Sure I loved my pigs, but that doesn’t make me an outcast. Right?

I clutched my book bag for dear life. One wrong move and it would drop, and with my luck, if something bad can happen, it will. The school day went by, filled with whispers of my arrival. But on the last class of the day, I heard something that sent me over the edge.

“I heard her parents ditched her, and then replaced her by a rich kid.” A boy wearing cargo shorts said. I stood up. “What did you just say?” I asked sweetly. “He was talking about the rumor that your parents ditched you and replaced you.” The girl next to him said.

“Is that right?” I walked right up to the cargo shorts boy. “I would appreciate it if you would stop talking about said rumors in my presence.” I said with a small smile. “Oh, yeah. Whatcha gonna do about it freak.” “I tried to do this the easy way. But I guess some people just don’t care.”

My smile turned into a scowl. I leaped at the boy. I grabbed his hair and yanked. I twisted his arm, and pulled his skin. I kicked and screamed and punched. But in the end it wasn’t enough. The boy was surprisingly agile, and soon he had me pinned between him and the wall.

“Woah woah woah. Calm down.” Shouted a shaggy haired boy, running in between me and the cargo shorts boy. “Let’s just talk about this okay.” He said with a hopeful smile.

“Get out of the way Hoko. “No, leave her alone. You two don’t have to fight. Think about it, just don’t talk about the rumors when you know she’s around. It’s not that hard is it?” “For the last time. Get out of the way.” “No.” Hoko stood his ground. “Forget it. You two freaks aren’t worth it.” Cargo shorts boy walked away.

“Are you okay.” Hoko asked. “Yeah.” I said. I smacked his hand away and got up myself. Then I walked away, but before I got out the door I looked back. “Thanks, star lover.” I said quietly, before leaving.

My teacher sits at her desk as I stay at mine after the bell signalling the end of the day, unable to move. The other students flood out as fast as they can, eager to get away. I just sit. Stuck. “Ciel?” my teacher tries to get my attention. But I can’t reply. She gives up, after a while, going back to her papers. I start to whisper to myself, forgetting that she is there. Forgetting that she can hear. “Once upon a time, there was a little baby girl. She grew up, as all small children do, and she learnt everything she hadn’t yet known. For example, the Earth is dying. She took it upon herself to save it. Wars are everywhere. She was too scared to try and solve that one. People can be mean. She built a wall. People were uneducated. She read so that she, herself could be educated and wrote so that she could inform others. Fear is real. She embraced it. Shyness is too. That was difficult. She isolated herself in public, letting herself be herself only when in private with close friends or family. Her mind spun at a thousand miles a second, which she mostly kept to herself. And the child discovered means of expression through bold colours, clothes, face paint, makeup, adventure. She reached up to the stars, unhooking a few to conceal inside her, taking cover in their brightness. Soon, the child was a teenager. This teenager refused to forget childhood. Many adults and teenagers do, you know. They say they remember, but they only remember the teenage years, nothing earlier. Or, nothing of great importance. Like how children embody the innocence of the world, knowing nothing yet knowing everything. And reader, here is a question for you: Have you forgotten how to play? To pretend, play imaginary games, speak with those friends and teddies? They’ve lost their magic, haven’t they? The thing is, it was never them who lost the magic. You just stopped believing. This child did not. Through the upheavals and unwanted changes brought drastically into their life, it was this belief that sustained them. Learning more every day, increasing what was uncovered in terms of many things; then one thing in particular was noted: identity. Quickly realising that such a thing is fluid and cannot be contained in a box, they gradually let their friends and family know what they had found. Sadly, with every happiness comes some misfortune, so some secrets were kept and lies were told to ensure safety. The teenager had indeed not forgotten. They tried to show this through the expression learnt earlier. It worked, for a while. But the words were sharp and the closed minds speaking them would not listen. At last, they became more subdued. Quiet. Of course, this was never shown to the friends, only the enemies. Somehow, they managed to push parts of themselves away as they shone a light on hidden parts. They looked closer at their mind, spinning at a thousand miles a second. Astonished at what dreadful and exciting things they found, they gathered up this new information and spoke not a word. A few parts were mentioned, here and there. All in all, this teenager was secretive, only properly true to themselves when alone. The workings of the mind can be alarming. The frightening sections, though locked up, can escape. And in their head, dark swirling mists thickened into a fog that had covered almost their entire brain. The little girl had learned about fear; that is true. However, she didn’t learn how to control it. Embracing it was a mistake. The fear enveloped them in a veil of darkness, taking over their mind. It became apparent, with the dark circles under eyes and confusion from lack of sleep, that they were having some difficulties. Only apparent to the keen observer, they hid behind a mask of their old happiness and tucked away the challenging realities, yet to be overcome. Failing to sleep at night, they succumbed to resonating quotes and an old friend turned new who understood. Occasionally, they cried. Most of the time, it was impossible. They were just… There. Existing. Meaninglessly? Who knows. A vast expanse of nothingness gnawed at their chest, pulling it apart, creating a hole. Perhaps love could have filled it, but none was to be found. Then there was the shouting. The screams, the cries. Stowed away in their room, they listened. Was it time to give up? Were they still alive? It didn’t appear so. They felt like a ghost, floating. Unseen. Their soul had flickered and was trying to leave ahead of schedule. The days dragged by. Illness did not help. But they pushed and pushed, forcing themselves to carry on, even when it seemed they’d collapse. Even when they did. So, what to become of them? I am not sure. Well, they now know about the world; not fully, but enough for the moment. And they’ve come to the conclusion that it is a terrible place with secrets. Such secrets could be damaging if released too early, so the planet crumbles underneath the pressure. Like them. That much, at least, is understood. Yet one question remains- Where have your stars gone?” I finally look up from my desk. My teacher still sits at hers, the same as before. Whereas now, her cheeks are stained with tears. I gasp and run out, terrified. Then I stop. I turn around. My teacher is behind me, leaning against the doorframe of her class. “I’m here for you, if you need me,” she smiles, “I promise not to tell.” I smile nervously at her, mumbling a thank you and quietly leaving.

The next day, a note is under my desk. I almost cry in relief when I read it.

“Did you know I can see ghosts? I’m one too.”

Ding! Ding! It’s cold chicken wings o’ clock!! Time for some savory, delectable and perfectly cold chicken wings!! I buy them from the store every night snd then refrigerate them overnight and eat for breakfast. Their so YUMMY!!! i’m a teacher. I teach 3 classes of seventh grade English. Unfortunately my job is not to eat cold chicken wings all day:( I know you are probably thinking why does she eat food when she should be preparing or helping her students?!?! The chicken wings are TOO GOOD! Don’t worry im still a good teacher. Don’t believe me? Well, first off, i was the teacher of the year 3 times in a row! Second of all, a student I had last year made me 40 homemade cupcakes on the last day of school. Frosted too!!! So stop over exaggerating people and LET ME EAT MY WINGS!!!! This lovely morning, I had only 15 minutes of “planning and helping” time because of a meeting. I was on my last bite when Mrs. Anne (my teacher friend) arrives to walk me to the meeting. When she arrives I scramble to hide my wings, so I don’t get fired. Then we walk out together discussing English. The meeting ends quickly , and class starts immediately after. However, there is a delay in our lesson because of the morning announcements being super long due to announcements about the winners from last night’s competitions. The winner for the cooking competition is Maya Anderson, a student in the class at the moment, so the whole class cheered. In the middle of my lesson I realized I forgot where I left my chicken wings. NOO!!! If I don’t find them, I’m over! “Students, due to circumstances, we have to cut our lesson short today. You may either continue working on your grammar sheets or choose a book from our class library and silently read.” Some of them are shocked because I never before cut a lesson short since my wings are in the refrigerator right next door to my class. All the morning meetings have been optional, so I have always chosen not to go except for today mandatory one. As the students are proceeding with their books and worksheets, I scrummage the books in the class library trying to find the wings. Behind me, two girls start to chatter behind me. It’s Maya and Arabella. “ Maya congratulations on your win!! You deserved it since your food is so amazing!” “It warms my heart that you think that! I should bring one of my vanilla cakes to share with the class and Mrs. Jenna too!” VANILLA CAKE?!? That is the one cake I FEAR. That is the one cake, I hid under my bed from when my mom bought it for my birthday. That is the one cake that I start frantically running around and panicking when it is near me. I ADORE every single other cake though. Vanilla cake is a MONSTER!! It is quite troubling that Maya is talking about bringing a MONSTER into my class! After hearing that, I jump up, run to the water fountain and drink gulps. “Mrs. Jenna are you ok?” A student calls out, but I ignore him. Instead of answering, I run to the main lobby panting. I continue to run in circles until someone in the main office concernedly calls me in. “Is everything ok Mrs. Jenna what happened?” god I’m in need of an excuse “One of my students…wants to bring drugs to class!!” I scream The office gasps and demands for a name. “…Maya Anderson” I reply. The office calls Maya down to the dean immediately. Maya walks in with a confused look on her face. “Sit down!” Surprised by the harshness, she obeys. “Are you on drugs?” Mayas mouth falls open when she hears this. “…No sir!” she replies “well then why does your teacher here say you wanted to bring drugs to the class?” Maya turns to me with a confused and shocked look. “Oh wait” she says “I think I meant that I wanted to bring vanilla cake to share with the class not drugs” “Sorry if you misunderstood Mrs. Jenna. I promise you… ” I stopped listening to the rest of the statement because she mentioned vanilla cake again which causes me to get up and run out. “Mrs.Jenna aren’t you going to listen to your student talk? Where on earth are you going?!” The dean asked. In response I scream VANILLA CAKE VANILLA CAKE!!!!!! and run to the library. Without realizing, I knock all of the picture books off the shelves and interrupt the library lesson going on. I run out pound on the school exit doors. Before I know it the deans after me. I run into the art room, break a honor roll painting and jump on the tables. The dean is coming closer with a shocked and angry face, but I don’t care. I need the mention of vanilla cake OUT. As I run out of the art room. I bump into another teacher causing her to fall. I run , not apologizing. Soon, the police is after me in addition to the dean. I don’t care, I just need to get out of this vanilla cake place. I run past the teachers lounge and guess what I see? My lost cold chicken wings!!! Mrs. Anne is holding them, so I stop running. That causes the police to catch me when I am fighting Mrs. Anne for the bag. I’m in jail now for 5 years, and I love it. Why? Because they torture you by serving cold chicken wings for every meal. My kids hate me now and have a “better” teacher now, but I don’t care. My job of eating cold chicken wings is 1000 times better than teaching:). 🧡 Prompt ?: Went to public school?: Who is the craziest teacher you’ve ever had and why? Didn’t?: Tell us one of your craziest life stories!

“I heard everything,” the villian tells the two people standing across from her. The almost empty room making her voice echo wall to wall. “Crap” the first, Gin, said pulling his sword out of it’s sheath. “That’s bad, no one was supposed to find out,” said the second, Hayden, responding a moment later. “Bahahahah, now surrender or I will tell the whole world.” Gin and Hayden turning to eachother faces eched in horror. “Do you really think she heard,” Hayden stage wispered, “Must’ve” The villian smiled to herself, she had them just where she wanted them. Now they would surender… “Please don’t tell the whole world that I can speak pig latin and I called Gin and pirncess pig. I’ll be really bad if they find out” Hayden begged eyes wide and pleading, beside him Gin nodded beside. “You did what?” The villian asked. What the actual Frick?

There has to be some rational, biological reason why my students don’t speak below a certain decibel level. Something to do with the development of the inner ear, perhaps. Whatever the reason, its evidence is uniform. Were I to be blinded I’d still recognize the presence of teens in a crowded room by the uniquely shrill noise they generate. And like the generously proportioned, disconcertingly nice American in a French bistro, this noise was something the young are seemingly oblivious to.

That has to be the case. Otherwise those two WANT me to be hearing their scheme.

Sara, the blonde one, is frustrated at how much she has to repeat herself. Her friend, Dasha isn’t a slow girl, she’s just unsure. As I would be. I personally appreciate the lumbering pace of this back and forth. Were it to have moved at a faster clip I may not have pieced together exactly what I was hearing in my left ear (my right ear facing the silent blackboard).

Dasha asks the question I was thinking. “But.. isn’t that illegal?”

Sara exhales in a way that suggests a very large rolling of the eyes. “It’s not illegal. It’s his snap, I’m just sharing it.”

“But what about…”

“That skank should have thought about that before she took what wasn’t hers”

I remember when the training pamphlets regarding this sort of thing were first distributed. It was a red pamphlet with a crying stick-figure silloutted against an ominous smart phone. The bold red made it feel particularly important. It was just after my teacher training. During the pandemic my time here became a smeared, hard-to-recall memory, so I’m grateful that this particular pamphlet is frozen in an amber of optimism that the last few years haven’t permitted.

The three C’s. Containment, Closure and…something else.

My role here was clear, to close this up while containing it to as few people as possible… and something else beginning with C.

I should remember the third C, though. What if it was the most important of the three C’s? This was a high-risk maneuvre as far as teacherly caretaking went. I didn’t want to lose my job over a mystery C.

Yes. That was the right thing to do. I had to start there.

I turned to the chunky faculty laptop on my desk and typed in the words ‘Revenge P-’ as the bell rung throughout the building, signalling the end of class. They all left.

That was a close one. I sighed in relief as I closed the laptop and headed for the break room with a spring in my step. Jan had brought muffins.

“See if they’ll do it for $10,000. Five up front and the rest after it’s done.”

“Babe nobody does a murder on layaway. We got to come up with a plan.”

Mrs. Davenport dropped the stack of books she was carrying. A stomach bug had been racing through Lehigh High School. Mrs. Davenport was filling in for the school librarian who was out sick. Tuning in and out of her surroundings, Davenport was returning books.

Now her heart raced. Her senses heightened as adrenaline surged. Someone laughed as other students talked. Most used the library to hang out and not do their work. What had she just heard?

Books spilled across the aisle. There must be a reasonable explanation. Some kind of joke? She bent seeing a pair of Converse sneakers and slender legs through the metal book shelf.

Who was it? Kneeling with a jumbled armful books, Mrs. Davenport thought about what she’d heard. Who was planning a murder? XTurning it over and over, the teacher slowly rose. Should she talk to someone?

Rounding the aisle, she had to find who was plotting. Who will be killed? The skinny legs were gone on the other side. A few kids were working on computers but most were playing on their phones. They were all just kids. But two of them have murder in their hearts.

Davenport shook her head. There must’ve been a mistake. This was a nice community, good families, a great school district, crime was a fender bender or kids throwing toilet paper in someone’s trees. She searched faces wanting to believe

“Mrs. Davenport, hey, you dropped a book,” Jimmy said.

The junior waved a paperback. Distracted mrs. Davenport reached for the book. She wanted to explore the stacks find out more of the plot

“Take care mrs. Davenport,” Jimmy said walking away.

Something in set of his shoulders and the playfulness in his tone stopped her breath. Jimmy, little Jimmy Edwards, she’d taught him for freshman English. She’d known this boy fort years. Today Jimmy was scary. The teacher looked at the book he’d handed her. She dropped it. The bang rang across the quiet. Everyone looked up and then returned to their conversations.

Curiosity Killed the Cat, the book title, shouted up at her. Mrs. Davenport looked over her shoulder. She was in the history section. She left the warning on the library floor and ran.

(Just wanted to write this for fun)

Every morning, when the sun lights up the world, the world opens it’s eyes. The trees bristle their leaves. The flowers spread their petals. The bees open their wings. The children sit up in bed. Once 8:00 hits, the rush begins. School starts, for everyone and everything. Yes, even flowers have to go to school. I am a tree. Us trees are the teachers. The fields are the classrooms. We teach flowers about everything. Math (Can we tell time by using the Sun?) Science (Why do bees steal the flower nectar?) Literature (What do the birds sing about? Let’s analyze it!) Sometimes bees come and join our classes. Sometimes ladybugs buzz in and say hello. We are open to everything and everyone. I dearly love teaching. It is the sunlight in my cloudstorm. All of my students were beautiful and bright. Well, until the drought came. The sun slowly turned into a blazing fire. The cloudless sky became our angry demon. I tried to teach, but with zero water my brain couldn’t function. My roots pained me more than ever. All my students did was whine and whine. One of my brightest lilies became silent. None of my desperate efforts paid off. She sat in silence. She became the first to droop sideways. I cried, my tears dampening my scalding trunk. Dust continued to wrap our bodies like venomous snakes. Days dragged on, nights lasted years. One night, I woke to the sound of my two wonderful students. Why were they awake? “I just feel like I can’t do this anymore.” Rose said “Our teacher acts like we’re whining about nothing. She keeps telling us it’ll be okay. It won’t!” Sunflower nodded “Yes, exactly! How does she stand so tall every day? It’s like she has water hidden somewhere, I swear!” Rose shook her head “It’s so unfair. Trees are so intimidating. They act like they know everything!” Sunflower was lost in her thoughts. “Uh, Sunflower?” Rose reached her leaf over and tugged at her petal. Sunflower flicked her stem up “I was just thinking… did you see her tears when Lily died? She cried tears, made out of water! How?!” “Trees must have secrets…” Rose said “I wonder if we can take the water… I mean how harmful could it be?” “Trees store water in their roots, for emergencies. Emergencies only.” My voice came out raspy and low. My branches were frozen, as both flowers slowly turned in my direction, staring at me in horror. “Oh my god, you’re awake-“ they said in unison. “We’re so sorry!” Rose cried. My branches started to shake with anger. “We didn’t mean any of what we said- we are just hungry! Please don’t wake the others!” “We just want to survive!” Begged Sunflower. It was a hard task. Should I tell the others? Should I let them be? How much could they do to me? They were just flowers. Their words stung though. Then, I had an idea. Revenge. I quickly closed my eyes, and didn’t open them again until morning. Next morning, I decided to share my water with everyone but Rose and Sunflower. Those two were angry “You shared none of your water with Lily, so you basically killed her! You murderer!” Rose shook. All the other students were confused, but okay with it. All of them gushed with happiness and told me they loved me. I felt triumphant. Finally. I slept in peace that night. The next morning, the animals came. Bees swarmed my leaves. Ripping them away. Ladybugs gnarled at my bark. A fox came out of nowhere and attacked my trunk, scratching at my wood. I begged them to stop, but they didn’t. Rose and Sunflower cackled in the back of the field. “Ring around the Rosies…” A dark voice sang. I was weak. The army was too big. The other trees were asleep. “Ashes, ashes….” I had no water left. Their words burned my heart. I fell on my side. Left in blackness. “We all fall down.”

The end.

(Kind of a twist, I know. Hope you like it though!)

(Also, in real life I really don’t think that a flock of animals could really kill a tree… but I am out of ideas unfortunately 😅😭 if you guys have any, let me know!)

No privacy Sorry kids You are minors Nothing hid

Ego doesn’t rule Success achieved, yet to be Brightness in the world