I couldn't and she knew it. My shoulders slumped in defeat. “I can only stay until five. No later.” I glanced down at my watch, the leather strap fraying. The hands had stopped. The ticking that always reminded me of my mother’s heartbeat had been silenced. “I have dinner reservations with my brothers at six.”
It had been months since I had seen them. Both of them were off doing their own thing as they became men with their own lives and families. And I missed them.
Something unreadable flickered across her face. It looked oddly like triumph
“It will all be over long before then. You are the eldest in your family right?”
I nodded mutely. She knew I was. It was all in my file.
“I thought so, and you have given up so much for them. It’s really commendable. Not many people would do that these days.”
“I just did what any good daughter would do. What my mother would have wanted me to do.”
“Yes…sacrifices must happen sometimes. Even though they might be painful for us, it’s all for the greater good.” She didn't let me speak. “The students are already in their normal room. I will let you go now, Bri, good luck.”
Good luck? I stared at her retreating back. I had been working in that godforsaken school for seven months, and my previous school for five years, and not once had I been wished good luck when dealing with a group of students.
I was good at my job, the kind of teacher that was approachable. I had always thought I was pretty well-liked by the student body, so why would I need luck?
Glancing around the room, I frowned. Though I had taken the after-school detention class before, the faces that greeted me when I opened the door weren’t the ones that usually greeted me. Instead, the room was full of faces I barely recognised.
Honour students.
Kids that kept to themselves and out of trouble.
It was all very strange.
But it wasn’t my job to question why they were there, just to watch over them and make sure they did the work that had been set.
Straightening my shoulders, I made my way to the desk at the front, my heels making loud tapping noises on the tiled floor.
“Books out,” I sighed loudly as I settled myself into the hard plastic chair, placing my pile of marking onto the scarred wood surface in front of me. At least one good thing would come from having to cover on a Friday, I could get ahead of my marking. Ultimately giving me more time to spend with my brothers over the weekend. “You know what to do.”
There was a moment of silence and then the air was full of murmurs and students whispering to one another.
I glanced up sharply as the whispers turned into something louder. My eyes scanned the room.
“What’s the problem here?”
No one answered me, instead, at least twenty pairs of eyes fixed on me. Some were angry, but mostly they just looked confused.
“Why are we here?” Finally, someone spoke up - a boy in the senior year that I had never seen in detention before. I wasn’t even sure I knew his name.
“Detention.”
“But why?”
His question confused me. Frowning, I folded my hands on the desk in front of me, my eyes narrowing as I stared at him. “I don’t know why your teachers sent you here. Believe me, I want to be here even less than you do.” I yawned.
Tired.
I was suddenly so tired. My eyes felt gritty with the effort it was taking me to keep them open. It came out of nowhere. Glancing around, I saw more than one of my students cover their mouths with their hands as they yawned as well.
It was like the room was sucking the energy from us. It happened almost instantly. I hadn’t been tired before getting there. But one minute after sitting down, I was struggling to keep my eyes open. And I wasn’t the only one.
“Miss.” A girl spoke from the back of the class, and I blinked at her stupidly.
Why was it so hard to concentrate suddenly? Fear gripped me, but I shoved it down as I clambered to my feet, swaying where I stood. My head was suddenly so foggy that it was hard to stand upright.
My students were afraid as well. They could all feel what I was feeling. And my first priority had to be their safety. That was my job.
Clutching the edge of my desk, I tried to force myself to concentrate. Still, the words came out slurred.
“Out,” I mumbled. “I think there’s a gas leak.”
It was the only possible explanation.
“Out now.” Letting go, I took a stumbling step forward. My ankle turned over and I fell forward. The tiled floor rushed up to meet me, and I was powerless to even put my hands out to save myself.
