Disclaimer: I own nothing ('cept my own writing but hey ho)
A/N: Long time no see haha..ha..yeah. Sorry 'bout that. Anyway, I'm not too sure where I'm going with this story, but I hope you enjoy it regardless!
Surprisingly, triangles turned out to be useful.
Years upon harrowing years of practising SOHCAHTOA, right angles and other pointy demons from trigonometry hell were finally coming to good use. Hypotenuses, adjacents, tangents, shift cos and calculator functions that would make you wonder if x really was just a number or if it was instead the incarnate of evil were being useful. Useful, of all things.
In a physics lesson, of course.
Chewed to death HB pencil effectively equipped in hand, Alfred gazed on (though a more accurate term would be 'eyes were in the general direction of') as the once blank and blissfully clean whiteboard was mercilessly filled up with black digits and calculations that, honestly, nobody was in the right mindset to be taking in. At almost 7pm on a Friday evening in late November, all of the once sharp and focused minds of the students had packed their bags and left long, long ago.
The snow wasn't helping much either.
Reduced to beyond bored, Alfred decided to pass the rest of the remaining time, two more hours of this Jesus Christ this is worse than licking a lamp post and being left there in the snow for a whole day dude you could at least try to sound excited when teaching us, watching snowflakes swerve in and out of his sight, trying to follow one for as long as possible before the wind eventually took it out of his range.
Returning his gaze back to the board to at least appear somewhat attentive he scribbled down notes, wallowing in self pity as he knew he's have to revise these over later and actually understand them lest he fail the upcoming test. The break in the monotonous voice that ran in the background made him pause and look up to the overweight, balding teacher as he struggled to come up with the answer, the near silence making him hyper aware of the ticking of the clock to the left of the rolling whiteboard.
Tick.
It was an average make, nothing special. White and black and all that jazz, probably with a 'made in china' melted out in plastic in the back, yet his eyes were trained on it despite it being no way near the end of class.
Tick.
A couple of people turned pages behind him, biros messily scribbling down equations but they sounded faded, distant. All of his attention was on the clock, silently begging and pleading for reasons unknown to him for the second and then minute hand to click into place at 12.
Tick.
And with an unnatural wave of pure silence washing over the classroom, Alfred's vision was plunged into darkness.