Fear the Teacher
Write about the scariest moment of your life
My pink pen just hovered over the paper. The classroom was eerie, everyone was silent, busied with the task at hand. The hands on the clock ticked rhythmically as the hour was almost over. Mr. Morten was bent over his desk, writing in fast scribbles. His glasses hung of the end of his nose. I buried my face into hands, wishing the lesson to be over. The room was cold. I pulled my blazer back on, tucked my hands inside the pockets, put my chin on the table and stared at the blank page. I couldn't think of anything scary. Life is just too dull.
Then, a noise. Quiet but, in the hushed atmosphere, a constant hum that buzzed in all the ears in the room. It was over. I felt all eyes on me. Mr. Morten had looked up and had his steel cold eyes transfixed upon me. I knew that sound. I knew it too well. My heart rose to my throat and thumped louder with every increasingly slow second. Soon, my ears ringed with the drumbeat of my fluttered heart. I looked around trying to make it seem like nothing, like it wasn't me. Mr. Morten got out of his chair and stalked across the room like I was his pray. No one spoke. No one whispered. Their eyes full of fear and curiosity. Mr. Morten stopped at my desk and loomed over me, his tall figure shadowed, his face firm, his expression teeming with rage. It was almost impossible to meet his stare. I felt the heat rise to my cheeks and a sense of dread from the deepest of pits formed in my mind. He swept his hand across the desk, knocking my book with such violence, it hit hard against the back wall. He didn't even flinch. I cowered, trying to sink into the chair. I took small gasps of air in. Mr. Morten bent down further. I could feel his cold present, an iced wind piercing my skin, causing me to wince.
'Was that your phone?' His breath smelt of strong tea, his voice was thunderous and his eyes blazed.
'No,' I lied. His nose twitched, he could read the guilt all over my face.
'YOU WILL REPLIY TO ME AS SIR,' his voice rose above all else. My eyes stung with tears.
'No sir,' I whispered, not sure whether the sound came out.
'HAND IT OVER,' he bellowed.
I handed it over. He took the phone and slammed it into the ground, shattering the screen into glinting sliver slivers.
'GET UP! GET OUT OF MY CLASSROOM!'
I shook, barley able to breath. I hurryingly got out of the chair to rush to the door and shoved it open. I ran through the corridors crying what was left of my soul out.
I finally had something to write about.