I should have dozed off at some point, and although it wasn't long, I had slept especially well. Hopefully not because I started to get comfortable lying in my psycho-husband's arms. It should have been because my baby was cuddling me.
Getting in the car on my way to school, I didn't see Jude, making the drive more relaxed, but at the same time, the car felt oddly big.
During lunch break, I visited the library, looking through yearbooks from thirty-five years ago. And after a few books, I found Liliana Humphrey. I have to say, she really looks like me. Fascinated, I stared at the picture before trying to find more of her in the yearbook. There was plenty; all the pictures were in monochrome, but it didn't lessen her radiance. She was at a school festival, in the class learning, on a school trip, in a theater group, and in a study group at the same library where I was at this very moment. It felt creepy to see someone so similar to oneself, living the dream school carrier, contrasting heavily with my own.
There were also pictures of her and other students cleaning up a burned-down classroom, which seemed strange. Maybe just a random accident, but I noted down the date to look into it later or ask the principal about it.
I really wanted to pocket that yearbook, but it was too big, and if Liliana Humphrey had a connection to me or my husband, it wouldn't be good to take it back to the villa, lest it gets discovered.
Next, I went back to the teacher's office, but I didn't bump into Muscle-Man, the other gym teacher. Going to the sports hall, I found him putting up the poles for the volleyball net; it seemed that was what he had planned for his next class.
"Hey." I walked to him, not remembering his name. He was bald, broad-built and looked really strong. However, his muscles let someone think more in the direction of a money collector than a teacher.
He fixed the first pole in the ground.
"Lesly right? I am Rory."
"Hi, yes." I nodded at him,
"I have a question. Are there any school trips where the gym teachers can participate?"
He was crouching down while working on the pole. Looking up at me, he thought for a moment,
"Every teacher can register for a school trip because they serve mainly as guardians to watch over the students."
Like this, it was at my old school too. But I had always avoided them because, one, who wants teenagers around themselves the whole day instead of a few classes, and two, if really something happened, the responsibility lied with the teacher. And kids already get themselves hurt constantly, let alone in the physical education lessons, but if they get out on a trip, they will mutate into real monkeys bouncing around and climbing about until an arm is broken or a leg is shattered. And then the parents come crying, 'What have you done? Can't you watch over the child? It is all your fault!' etc. pp.
"There should be one coming soon; it is not really a school trip; it is only a math contest in another city, for the kids in the math club."
"Perfect, where do I register myself for that one?" I helped Rory with the second pole, and we put up the net between the poles.
Rory was more easygoing than he looked,
"In the Teacher's office, on the corkboard hangs a list for signing up."
That board here was packed, so I hadn't looked at it closely.
"Thanks. Can you let me use the volleyball net later? After my lesson, I will store it away again." It would be a waste to put it away after I helped to set it up. Besides, today we have a double lesson with Jude's class, and while I would love to let them go running for two hours, I sadly couldn't do that.
Rory looked at me skeptically, making me laugh,
"I am still strong enough to put away the poles." These were hollow metal poles, not really heavy.
He chuckled,
"Okay, I'll leave them standing for you."
Thinking that I already had him before me, I could as well continue to ask,
"Are there any campus legends here at school?"
Rory paused and laughed,
"You're asking the right question; let me be the first to tell you." He went to the side while I followed, got himself water and started after taking a sip,
"A few decades ago, a kid had sneaked into his sister's school, this school. Seeing her being treated badly by her classmates, he started a fire, but besides burning down a classroom, he was the only victim of his action." Rory feigned a shudder and looked at me ominously,
"They say that his little ghost is still wandering through the corridors....and if he catches someone using school violence, then he will set you on fire as well."
I chuckled; that was precisely what I wanted to hear. There was a girl that could very well be my mother in this school; there was a fire while she was at school, and there was me serving as a stand-in. These legends are naturally not to be trusted, but there had to be something about that fire for it to develop into such a tale.
After a bit of further small talk, and hearing that Rory didn't know more about said fire, I left for the teacher's office and signed myself up for the math club's competition. It would take place next week already. That would be my next attempt to escape, if that creep would allow me to go.
I searched online for a news article about the fire, and found one that, contrary to the campus legend, stated that there were no victims, and that it had happened because of a chemistry experiment had been handled wrongly.
The school committee had personally cleaned and rebuilt the classroom. The same picture as in the yearbook was at the end of the article.
Liliana Humphrey, amidst of other students, in a charcoal-like room, smiling in the camera.