Describe this teacher too.
Class: be over by the time the description is done
You quickly move to the very back of the classroom, taking the same spot you had last year. You're not so sure that you'll definitely meet someone awful since you're also not sure how much Murphy's Law really has to do with real life, but...
"Alright everyone, sit down and settle down. I'd like to start the today with a quick introduction to a student who is just joining us after an extended stay at the hospital. Say hello to Trina Vimmer, and let us all hope she can be as productive and engaged as she was last year. Keep your eyes out for her and don't be afraid to go to her with any questions you might have. Also, to get her acquainted with the subject there will be a pop quiz going over what we've been learning and what we'll be covering in the next few weeks as well."
You thump your face down on the table and let out a groan. Nevermind, Murphy's Law can go suck it, you've already met this "somebody terrible."
Well you've described him before, but okay.
As you've said in the past, he looks kinda like a railroad spike that's a bit bloated in the middle. He's kinda tall and just about the same size all the way around except for a beer belly. He has a military style crew cut that's gotten a little shaggy, and his chin recedes into his neck, making it look like he doesn't really have one and his head is just one big rectangular piece of bone. He wears glasses, and usually a golf shirt and brown slacks and he tends to have his hands in his pockets while he talks. Other than that, he has a tendency to talk about how when he was younger teachers could still whip students and how summer was harvest season so that's why kids didn't have school, but now we don't really have a harvest season so we shouldn't get a break anymore.
In short, he's an ass, and he likes to get on your case because you tend to slack off and then react kinda explosively if people call you out on anything.
You finish your test and turn it in, not really sure if you got anything right on it, before going back to sitting at your desk and doodling on a scrap piece of paper. Eventually Mr. Boid stands up and starts giving a lecture, probably about the state of today's school system though you don't pay enough attention to know, until finally the bell signalling the end of class rings and everyone files out. You think you hear him call your name but you high tail it out of there before you can find out.
You are now standing outside the classroom, just on the outskirts of the cafeteria.
You begin daydreaming, releasing yourself to the flow of the crowd and letting them take you wherever they will.
You are now in a blank white room with no ceiling. There are three buckets of paint sitting nearby, one red, one yellow, one blue. You cannot, however, find a paintbrush.
Above you you can see a black sky covered in dots of light dancing and twinkling, twirling in little patterns like schools of blazing white fish. You hear a rushing of wind from far away and the tinkling of windchimes, as well as a rumbling of thunder far in the distance. The air is chilled but humid with a slight sense of static and you can smell ozone.
You also have the nagging feeling you were supposed to be doing something.
Yes of course, how silly of you! You don't need a brush, all you need is an imagination and your hands! You dip them in the red and blue paints, then after considering it for a few moments you dip both feet in the yellow. It's very cool and sticky but this doesn't bother you. You let out a small giggle and then start spinning around, letting the paint splatter everywhere in little trails, closing your eyes for maximum effect.
Even though this isn't reality you still end up getting dizzy and falling over onto your butt. You are laughing loudly now and you lean back on your hands and open your eyes to oversee your work. Paint is everywhere making twisting images in the splatters. You spot one in particular, grab the pencil that was always there laying next to you and begin tracing the strange creature you see outlined in the splatters.
The thing you've painted is a... It's a... Well you see it's... Uhm...
You can't. Or rather... See it's just that... You know you KNOW what it is. You can feel it in your gut that whatever it is you know what it is, that whatever it is you have some sort of connection to it, that it's apart of you, but it's like you just can't quite make it out. Like seeing it through a thick fog, or as if it hadn't been given its outline yet. Whatever it is, it feels like an animal, but other than that undefined in any way, and trying to figure it out is making your head hurt.
You sit down in a corner and try not to think about it.
You can't walk to wherever you were supposed to go because you are already there.
You find yourself sitting in your Graphic Design class, a larger room with soft orangey yellow lighting on its otherwise grey carpet and tan walls. There are about 30 computers scattered about on various desks that have no particular order to them, and in the front of the room there's an empty space where a projector has been set up, connected to the teacher's computer. It is currently showing the desktop of the teacher's computer, so there's nothing of interest going on there, and you aren't sure where the teacher went. On the walls of the room various art projects have been put up, all with flat, glossy paper telling you they were done on the computer, giving a very necessary amount of color to the dimly lit room.
Additionally there are about 10 other students in the classroom, scattered in small groups at computers. One of them is sitting near you and appears to be talking at you relentlessly, apparently not noticing that you have no idea what he's saying. Something about newspaper clippings and fog storms coming in off the coast? You aren't sure. You also aren't sure what his name is, but you're pretty sure he already told you his name while you were daydreaming, but you can't quite remember what it was...
Alex is the name! You're only casually acquainted so all you remember is that the last name starts with an L...
Well technically he's only introduced himself to you just now, so you think that's more formally acquainted than casually but... Well yeah it still applies. You're PRETTY sure his name is Alex, and at the VERY least his last name had an L sound in there somewhere. Whatever the case, what you DO know about him is that he has long, straight hair going over his eyes, dyed a faded green, a slightly wider face and bulkier physique like he was chubby at a young age but recently worked a lot of it off into muscle. From what you can tell he has a shorter stature as well, something like 5'6", and he wears fairy casual clothes, though they're a little more suited to a warmer time of year in your opinion, as well as a large pair of grey blue headphones. He also seems to not need to breath to talk.
"As well as that one time at the train station when- Ah ha! Found it!" He exclaims, making you jump a little, and then spins his computer screen around and pointing at a blurry picture on its display. "You see? Undeniable proof that they exist!"
That doesn't prove anything! Also it was probably photoshopped! This guy's full of it.
Man you've had some strange compulsions today. You decide to ignore this one for the most part, seeing as suddenly punching a computer screen would draw a little more attention than you'd prefer.
Yeah you really can't make anything out on the photograph, it's all kinda grey and blurry and looks like it was taken with some sort of nightvision camera. There ARE two pinpricks of light in the black background, but he doesn't seem to be pointing at them anyway, more like a darker grey smudge in all the rest of the grey. Boy is this thing dull and squinting at it is giving you a headache.
"What... Exactly am I supposed to be seeing?" You ask, peering over at him from where you'd leaned forward to get a better look and frowning.
Alex sits up a little straighter in his chair, giving off an indignant air. "Duh, that right there! It's so obvious!" He says, pressing his finger onto what you're supposed to be seeing hard enough to make the screen distort. You push his finger away and grab a cleaning cloth from your bag, wiping away the smear, much to his annoyance.
"I don't see it," You say as you do this. Alex snorts and shakes his head.
"Suppose you wouldn't be what with only having one eye and all. Guess it makes it hard to see what's right in front of your face," He says, shaking his head disapprovingly and crossing his arms.
You raise one eyebrow and feel the venom welling upon your tongue. "I'd say your hair does a good enough job of that for you, not to mention the bleach has most likely sunk into your skull by now and those headphones probably don't do anything for your hearing. It's pretty obvious that your vision's so clouded that you're trying to find things that aren't even there," You spit at him, all while he wrinkles his nose more and more at your words, drawing up one lip in a snarl. Suddenly his expression changes and he laughs, sticking out his hand.
"Oh man, that really stung! Touché," He says, grinning at you.