"Turn in the one paragraph summaries over last night's reading into the homework box then begin your bell work." I repeated to the class once again. This was one of my favorite class periods, in fact, many of these witches went to the rec center I work at on the weekends. So, it kind of feels as if I watched them grow up.
The class could be cut in half, the part that does what I ask the first time versus the part that will never do as I ask. Even though they are the same students that give me a high five or side hug when they leave the class. What I have come to understand as a teacher is that no matter what the socio-economic status nor the family that they derive from, students are all pretty much the same. Sweet and gooey most of the time, especially when they are not surrounded by trouble making friends, and like a Texas sticker, prickly on all sides if they are angered or feel wronged.
In any case, this class is some of the sweetest kids, even half of them refuse to do their homework.
"Ok, today we will continue learning about the demon race. If something I say resonates with you or you feel compelled to speak out, you have limited permission as long as you remain respectful to the learning environment." I pause and look at my rowdy boys.
"Let's recap what we have learned so far. One, we know that the war between the fairies and the demons ended four thousand years ago. Two, the demons were left with a curse to stop them from procreating. Three, the demons are even more animalistic and deadly now. Four…anyone, tell me another fact we know."
"The demons are stuck in their dimension, but can be summoned by a dark witch."
"The demons usually will kill the witch once they are summoned."
"Yeah, but if the demon doesn't kill the witch, then that witch is granted unlimited powers!"
"That would be so lit."
"Nah, I think it's too big of a chance. I mean, you either die or gain powers, but if you leave them alone and let nature do its thing, you will gain powers anyways."
"Yeah it does seem like a lazy way to attain more power."
"Nah, it's a think smarter, not harder deal-those dark witches already know what they want."
I chose this spot to interrupt the class discussion. "Eyes on me. Good points, but we got off task, but it was still important to share about the dark witches. Let's pause on them for now and return back to the demons." The students are more engaged at this point as they were able to voice their opinions and have a teacher validate their minds.
I don't really have great classroom management skills, but I do have great people skills, which in turn helps me monitor student behaviors. Professor Aldreen next door is horrible at it, which often results in witches throwing curses at each other. For a man in his sixties, you would think his control would be better. Perhaps he is just tired of teaching…
"Let's move on from facts to speculation. Before the bell rings, I want you to write down two or three sentences telling me why only witches can summon demons. You will turn this end at the end of class. Homework is reading chapter nine. We will have a quiz tomorrow over chapter eight and nine, so make sure you read both." I instructed using my teacher's voice. Otherwise they would have continued discussing the dark witches instead of doing the assignment.
I watched as Lilly turned in her paper, then sat back at her desk. She was the student that mentioned that demons will kill the witch. She would now, her sister and aunt both died from summoning a demon. The two thought that if they were together to subdue the demon they would win. My heart breaks for Lilly.
My next and last class of the day is with my gifted and talented bunch, the group that makes me want to pull my hair out.
But I don't. I won't allow them to know how much they truly drive me crazy.
When the bell rings, this class packs up and cleans their areas before leaving the room. I hear a lot of goodbyes. As I walk towards the door to welcome the next group, several of the girls give me a side hug before leaving. I really do love my job.
As soon as this thought enters my brain, Demarcus enters my vision. My number one trouble maker. I plaster on a smile and turn to him, "Welcome to class today" I then fist bump him as he walks in, ignoring my greeting, but kind enough to show me some face with the bump. He seems upset again today, which means the class will be on edge.
His family magic is empath, but instead of feeling what others feel, Demarcus makes others feel what he is feeling. His is reversed from the family gene pool, but still valid. He's also a strong caster, except he always needs someone else to draw the circles since he can't. I've tried to help him so many times, but still, as soon as he touches the chalk he begins to shake.
Since his family has never reported any trauma, my guess is that he has vivid dreams much like I do.
I welcome the rest of the group in, ask them to turn in their homework, and receive a lot of blank stares…so nobody did anything. I then go into the same discussion as the other classes. I remind them of the quiz at the end of class. I know that tomorrow, when I hand out the quiz I will once again get blank stares and mad glares at the injustice of a "pop quiz."
At the bell I walk once agains to my door and tell each student goodbye. Those walking in the hall I tell them the same thing, ensuring that my smile is once again gracing my face.
I finally leave the door and begin to pack up. I finished all my teacher items early and was taking advantage of leaving on time since it was a rare treat to actually leave with the other teachers.
At my desk was a folded note. I didn't see anyone approach my desk, which I only sat at when entering grades or during my conference period. So it was stuck in the corner and out of my way so that I could actually teach and learn with my classes.
I unfolded it, inside was sloppy writing. Unlike those amazing teachers on television, I could not tell you what student wrote the note, unless there's a signature and I use a spell. I have only needed to use the spell when I found a suicide note.
This note was not a threat to the student or to me, but a warning.
'He is getting impatient waiting for you to call him. He said if he must wait another two hundred years then…I can't remember, but it was bad."
I could feel the sincerity in the letter. This kid was having dreams. I wonder who the 'he' is that the letter is referring to.
I put the note in my bag and walked to my car. I am usually reserved in my tastes, but I couldn't resist this pearlescent pink Mercedes-Benz convertible. The dark leather seats seemed to hug my body every time I sat inside. Not only was it fast, but it was the most comfortable ride I had ever been in.
I put the car in gear and headed home. I made it to my driveway. Sitting on the bench in front of my door was my father's aid. I was ten the last time I saw my father, but, like a good daughter I kept a portfolio on all of his brides and changing aids, one must always be prepared.
"Good evening ma'am. Sir Aldrech has requested your presence at tonight's meal." The man spoke as he rose from the cushioned bench.
"I do apologize, there must be some mistake in residences. My father killed me at ten, then discarded my body in the woods outside our home." I moved the man from my door and walked in, making sure to lock all the doors. I even added a noise enhancer so that he would understand the meaning, 'you are not welcome here.' If he were to enter at this point, I could legally kill him without any repercussions. I helped write this law during my service time, specifically for this instance.
My heart was a bit shaky, as were my hands. Over two hundred and twenty years have passed since I saw my family, my father. Of course there were times I saw my cousins and siblings, but we all acted as if we didn't know each other. Well, I was probably the only one that knew who they were. I leaned my head back on the door, took a couple of breaths, then moved onto the kitchen.
A light dinner, a bit of white wine with some pasta, and then watch some mindless but much needed television.
My father's aid was still sitting on the bench outside my front door. I guess technically he wasn't in the wrong. I would replace the 'welcome' rug outside the door to say 'home' or 'get lost' tomorrow.
The next day, the aid was still outside my home. I needed to buy groceries and darn it, I just wanted to go to the mall and window shop until I found something to buy.
I showered and dressed comfortably, but with some tack since I was going to the mall. My long hair was still wet, the yellow strands curling since I refused to dry and style it.
I opened my door, acted as if the aid was not there, locked the door and walked to my car. The aid followed a few steps behind. When I opened the door he made his move sitting down in the passenger seat.
"Good morning ma'am, your father has invited you to breakfast. I will show you the way." His tone was the same as yesterday, but he was a bit more nervy this morning.
"Ah, dang I already ate." I said as my stomach grumbled. "Anyways, I have plans to eat with friends this morning, so this 'father' you speak of will need to wait." I then motioned for him to leave the car.
Instead he buckled his seat belt. What the Hell?
"You can get out of my car now." My tone went from confused understanding to dominant beast. I watched as his body responded, a light quiver, but he remained seated.
"I do apologize ma'am, but I must obey the commands from the family head."
"Fuck it, let's go and get this over with." I backed out and headed towards my family home. It's funny that I came back to this town after my service. Most of my cousins from my youth are now dead, only the newest batch is around. Most of my siblings have died as well. As far as I know, I am the only child from my father that has a long life span, similar to his, but as far as I know he has never died.
I ramped up my speed, the faster I could get this over the better. In any case, it's not like he could kill me…again, right?
You would think that I would feel some form of fear, instead it was just loathing. Waking up in the woods, surrounded by beetles and ants, some eating the newly awakened flesh was more fearsome than the flames that engulfed my body. To alleviate my fears of bugs, I sought out every form of information and study about them. With time, the more I learned about them, the more they felt familiar and my fear vanished.
No, it's not fear that I am feeling, but a healthy dose of anger was seeping into my conscience.