I really didn’t want to teach. However, at twenty-seven, my writing wasn’t paying the bills and I needed steady income. So I went and got a job at my hometown’s middle school. I was going to be a seventh grade ELA teacher to be exact. Apparently (and this should’ve been a gigantic red flag), Bainbridge Middle needed all the teachers (AKA babysitters) they could get even if it meant hiring people as inexperienced as me. So in July, the school rushed me through a quick teacher training program, a crash course for us crew of ambitious para-pros and clueless college grads.
Our sessions were held in Camilla, Georgia, about thirty minutes outside Bainbridge, and held at a defunct high school turned ‘learning center.’ With a cemetery as its nearest neighbor, this building was a real fucking eyesore.
Within those bricks walls lurked classrooms trapped somewhere between the 1950s and urban decay, the place so old it still used chalkboards. Considering I was a semi-professional horror writer, I was drawn to it. After all, the learning center resembled a school of the living dead even in broad daylight.
During my lunch breaks, I explored as much as I could. Today was no different as I made my way down a long hallway, walking past derelict classrooms lining up down the hall like prison cells. I stole a glance behind me but saw where I was all alone in this empty valley.
Further and further I journeyed until I reached the last two doors on the left. I looked through the first door’s window, and to my surprise, saw a class occurring inside. Even with the lights off, a middle-aged female teacher kept lecturing in front of a few teens, the teacher a true professional complete with a politician’s smile.
I stood there and watched but never heard anything. Not a single word. And all the while, the teacher never saw me, hell, none of the students ever even turned around. Their collective focus was strictly on a blank blackboard.
Baffled, I looked over at the other room and saw where its cracked-open door awaited me. An intrigued smile crossed my lips. I started to step toward it-
When a loud footstep echoed from down the hall.
I whirled around to see a tall, skinny girl standing at the end of the hallway. This far away, she was nothing more than a blip on my radar. All I could see was long blonde hair and a summer dress that had colorful flowers all over its white fabric. Despite sunlight shining through the cracked windows, I couldn’t see much more. All I knew was the young woman stood there completely silent and still, her gaze right on me.
Dread crashed my urban exploration aspirations. I forced myself to stay cool. After all, the girl was probably from class, either from the teacher training or from the muted classroom I’d just seen in the other room. A few more seconds passed but still the girl just stood there. She never once made a move. But neither did I until I finally entered that final room.
Countless storage conquered the scene. I mean this was boxes of pure shit, the whole room a museum of ancient education displaying CD-ROMs, mechanical timers, floppy disks, and long-outdated textbooks.
Growing more amused, I strolled up to the front of the room, the tall closets and shelves blocking out all sunlight from the few windows in here. I saw desks that were literally standing on their last leg. And like an altar, a podium loomed directly in front of a chalkboard.
On the board, several scribbled student names greeted me: Billy Laurie Anne, all of the names written in a lower corner, the names surrounded by a makeshift square. Right above the square was the type of empty threat I’d been bombarded by since grade school: Need To Be Better Or Else
I stopped to smirk at the sight. Then I grabbed a piece of chalk. I had a morbid sense of humor so naturally, I couldn’t resist scribbling I WILL KILL AGAIN in big, cryptic letters on the middle of the board. Admittedly, this wasn’t my first time fucking around in empty classrooms.
I slammed the chalk on the blackboard’s tray and backed away to admire my craft amidst the clouds of dust shooting out. My smile was going nowhere. After basking in the act for a few more moments, I got ready to leave.
When a sudden collapse startled me. One quick bang.
I whirled around and saw the piece of chalk now lying on the floor. It wasn’t even rolling, it just laid there lifelessly. Silent and still. “What the hell…” I muttered. My eyes darted to the blackboard then horror dominated my demeanor.
There my name was written amongst what I knew were the names of the other ‘bad’ students: Patrick. I was the latest addition after god knows how long.