Chapter 3 - A day at school

“Bip-Bip-Bip-...”

I hate morniiiiiiiiiiiiing. Half-asleep and with her usual wake-up headache, she went through her morning routine, starting by the twenty minutes she needed to exit her bed, making it 5:20 am. After she got dressed and finished her hunt for whatever books she needed for school, she went on a quick quest to find something to eat, to no avail. Made late by her injuries that she didn’t account into the time she needed, Dumbass! , she would need to run to the bus stop. And she ran, nearly missing the bus because of her cast, but nearly was still acceptable.

She sat heavily and, like always, tried to sleep a bit more. This was not a great day, the cast in her way making her unable to find a good sleeping position. She gave up trying to sleep half an hour later. The bus was stopping once more, taking in more passengers, and a man sat in front of her. He was old, but not too much, around the mid-forties she would have said, but that wasn’t the reason she was turning livid. No, her face was going green and her stomach wanted to empty itself because this man, well, had something attached to him.

Does no one see that? Her mouth was distorded by disgust as she looked at him.

Around his left eye, some kind of black tumor was growing out of is head, tens of eyes peppering the mass of corrupted flesh, looking everywhere. Cracks in it oozed a vile liquid, and tentacles emerged from them. Fuck, he’s looking at me! She got up, feeling sick as the man’s gaze followed her, confused and interrogative. Not one minute later, she rushed past the opening door of the bus, even if it was not her stop, all too happy to let the monstruosity behind her. Still in bad shape, she sat on the bench of the bus stop.

She took her time to settle down, breathing slowly and deeply. What the fuck was that?! That couldn’t be real, I must have been hallucinating! But the old book was already sitting beside her, as if it was mocking her. Still white as a sheat, she started walking toward school, trying to not pay attention to her surrounding. It was mostly normal but, from time to time, peoples showed up with weird extension on themselves, just like them man, tumor or smokes or ghosts of any shapes and colors. At the time she arrived to the school’s lobby, she couldn’t say what was wrong, her, or the world.

“Well well well, already late on the first day of the week, miss Derissie?” The prefect’s voice snapped her out of her thought, startling her.

“I-I’m sorry, sir. I got late because of my cast and I had problems with my bus.” She answered, still sick. He looked at her, frowning a bit.

“...You can go, miss Derissie, I’ll not account it, this time. If I’m not mistaken, you’ve a class with Professor Mirien, yes?”

“Yes sir.”

“Tell him to not send you back to me, I’ve let you pass.”

“Yes sir, thanks sir.” She didn’t know why he was so lenient, he who most of the time struck any students like a charging elephant when he thought them in the wrong. Maybe her face had something to do with it, or her cast? From an exterior point of vue, she sure looked like a tracked animal, or a frightened one. Maybe both. She hurried as much as could with her body weighted by the cast, and her mind by her visions.

In the hallways towards her classroom, she was approached by a worried middle-aged woman. “Oh, you’re there? I was going to call your home to know if you were coming today.” Miss Callante was a kind woman, and beautiful on her own right, with her dark hair and eyes. She was the educator allocated to Lysandre’s grade, Fourth Secondary.(Author’s note : Grades work differently everywhere so for your information, I’m using the belgian system. For more on this subject, go to the post-chapter author note. Sorry for the inconvenience.)

“Sorry I’ve made you worry, Miss. I’m only late because of my bus, and my cast made me need more time than what I thought I would use to prep myself.” She hasn’t anything growing out of her. Lysandre was relieved : she liked Miss Callante very much.

“Mmm…” Callante looked around her, checking if they were alone. “You look like shit, Lyza, you’re sure you don’t want to go back home? I can cover a bit for you, I’m not sure being here would be very productive for you right now.”

“Thanks, Juliette, but I’m all right, for real. I don’t want to be home, I assure you.” Lysandre had taken the same informal tone Callante had used.

“You really are sick if you don’t want to be home, but all right. If anything happens during the day, go to my office, understood? No, better, go to my office at lunchbreak, so we can talk a bit about you.”

“Yes miss, thank you.” Right back to the formal speech.

Callante took a step and stopped dead in her track. “Jean is giving the lecture you’re going on right now, right?”

“Yes miss, Professor Mirien is giving us history class.”

“Tell him I’ve taken care of you. You don’t need him bothering you in top of everything else. He can be overzealous at times.”

“That he can miss, thank you again, but I really need to go.”

“Yes yes, of course, me too. See you this noon.” And she set off like a missile.

The little talk with Callante had given her face some of its original healthy white color back, and it was the heart just that little bit lighter that she went on to her lecture. Of course, what she had seen so far didn’t disappear of her mind, but she was a bit more at ease knowing Juliette wasn’t affected by it. However, all her newfound tranquility vanished when she knocked at the door, and the voice of Professor Mirien answered.

“Enter at once.” Like it was coming from a grave.

She pushed the door and the gazes of everyone fell on her. “Sorry for being late, sir.”

“And late you are, very much late. What did the prefect say about it? You’ve been punished, I hope?”

“No sir, the prefect let me go, sir. Also, Miss Callante had me saying to you that she had dealt with me, sir.” Lysandre answered with a level voice, confidence coming from her two backers.

“So they did? Well, go take a sit then, Miss Favoured, or do you want to keep this class interrupted? That would be worth a visit to the warden.”

Lysandre didn’t answer and scurried toward the nearest available chair.

“So, can anyone say what happened the six june 1944?”

***

“You can say what you want, but Mirien as a way to make history interesting.” Once the professor had forgotten about her, the class had gone surprizingly well, in part because the Professor was indeed a very good history teacher, in part because no creeps had been in the classroom.

“I just wish he was less of a douchbag.” Lysandre said back to Lauriane.

“Yeah, I know, but no one is perfect, right? So, why were you late?”

“As I said, my bus got delayed, and I didn’t account my cast right into my morning routine.”

“...Mhmmm… So nothing else happened? You had a face to kill someone when you entered the classroom, or maybe like as if you were the one going to die?”

Going to die? She felt sick again, face turning green right away. The old book stood on a window sill and her right hand burned.

“Hey hey, stay with me!” Lysandre didn’t answer, mouth closed by sickness. I don’t want to die!

“What’s happening here?” Mirien’s voice slapped like a whip.

“She’s not feeling well, sir!” Lauriane’s answer was a bit frantic.

The Professor gazed at Lysandre and his look changed.

“Indeed. Miss Derissie, can you move?”

She tried to answer but, as soon as she had opened her mouth, her stomach tried to take a stroll outside. She clamped her jaw tightly to try and not puke.

“This won’t do, help me take her to the nearest toilet.” His voice was peaceful but his gaze was focused. Harsh but caring. Urghhh, why is it so painful!

Carrying her as much as they supported her, they took her just on time to the nearest toilet, where she started pucking, well, nearly nothing, since she had not eaten any breakfast.

***

...Again? She opened her eyes. Ah, this time I know the ceiling, at least. She got up, feeling of sickness still present, if toned down.

“You’re awake, good. You worried me more than a little, young girl.” The voice of Callante rang in Lysandre’s head.

“Urgh.” She caught her head in her hands, trying to sooth her growing headache. Suddenly, Callante was on her side, supporting her.

“Something’s wrong?”

“...Just a headache, don’t worry.” a tiny red stain flickered on her right hand before disappearing. So it was all real. I can’t keep saying it was a dream.

“Oh no, I worry. Only one hour after you arrived, you puked and then fainted in the hands of Jean. ”

Lysandre didn’t react, lost in her thought, until Callante talked again. “ Look at you, you’re not in a state to join lectures. I’ll call your parents.”

“No!” She jerked her head up and look at the woman.

“Please, don’t bother my parent with that. I just want to have a normal school day, I don’t want to go home…”

Callante looked at her, then took a seat. “It’s brunchtime. Would you mind to eat here, so we can… talk a bit?” She’s not going to call my parents. The thought was relaxing her.

“Sure.” Her voice was hesitant.

“Thanks.”

Her smile is really pretty.

She took her sandwich out and started eating under the silent gaze of Callante.

“So, what do you want to talk about?”

“Well, for starter, how do you feel about you injuries.” Juliette nodded her head toward Lysandre’s arm.

“It’s impratical but it doesn’t actually hurt if I don’t do anything with it, and my ribs area nearly fully healed already, so not much about that.”

“Thats good.” She smiled and shook her head a little.

“And what about… what happened, last wednesday.

Blood and flesh and scream and…

“If you don’t want to talk about it, you don’t need to.” Callante intervened, hand on Lysandre’s shoulder, seeing the girl turning green again.

I don’t want to die!

“Oh sweety pie, you won’t die.” Surprized, Lysandre didn’t realise she had spoken her thought all aloud.

“You’re here right now, you’ve survived, you’re safe.” She had taken the girl’s head against her bosom, petting her hair to calm her down. Lysandre figured she was crying when she heard her own sob muffle by Callante’s cloth.

“I-i just want...snif… a normal day…” She was barely intelligible in between all the sob.

“Ok girl, just be sure to take care of yourself. If you faint again, I swear, I drive you home myself.”

“Hahaha, yes, I understood.” She couldn’t stop herself laughing at her educator’s determination.

The rest of the break went peacefully, Callante needing to work on other case that Lysandre’s. The bell rang, and the next lecture would start soon.

Soon she was near the classroom’s door, Marcus and Lauriane already there.

“Lyza, how do you feel, you’re good?” Marcus worries make her smile.

“Don’t worry, I’m good.” She tried to sooth him, putting a hand on his shoulder.

“You don’t look well for me. Even Mirien was worried!” Argued Lauriane.

“I assure you. I’ll just take it easy.” They didn’t argue anymore, but kept an close watch on her.

When she went into the classroom, worried look followed her, and some of her classmate inquired if she was well or not, to which she answered shrotly that yes, everything was fine. Ten minutes into the lecture, everyone had forget about her again. Well, not the few guys that peaked at her like usual, thinking she couldn’t see them looking at her breasts, but she had learned to not mind them, sadly.

The two hours after passed like a dream, the girl’s mind having difficulties focusing on math. The old book was on her lap, constant reminder of her time running out, and her hand hitched more and more to take a look at it.

However, she resisted the strange call and, finally, came the last lecture of the day, Christianism. Urgh, I hate this class.

As always, Lauriane and Marcus went to their Atheism class, letting her alone for this lecture she more than disliked, and as always, she went right for the most distant seat, as far away from the teacher as she could.

Bad blood ran between Madam Laeticia and her, since she unintentionnaly spoke her mind about her point of vue on religion and was nearly banned from the class for the rest of the year. 'Brainwashing obscurantist control structure' were surprisingly badly received words when talking about the clergy and more widely religions.

Suddenly her face was distorded by disgust once again. A student, not one from her class, had just entered, a big boy whose eyes where as predatory as they were lecherous. He’s infected. Around his waist, where a man should have had is reproductory organs, a long black tentacle with a nose and a mouth at its end was sniffing the air like an hunting feral dog, directed in turn toward each woman in the room, the gaze of the boy following not long after. It stopped mostly on the more plantiful girls, hence a lot of Lysandre, which disgusted her even more. She diverted her gaze from him and swept over the classroom, quickly going back on the teacher when she passed over her. Madam Laeticia had a reputation of frowning on students for no reason, and rumor said that those on which she frowned were often bad seed, wherever they had already did things or where bound to. And now, this moody and lunatic woman was frowning right at the dark appendage, her gaze following its move, not the boy’s one. S-she can see it?! The Professor’s gaze got off the black thing and fell on Lysandre’s face, her frown becoming interrogative as she saw the utter surprize of her most vilified student.

“Today we will talk of Jesus’ life, and how he encountered the apostles…”

If Lysandre would have been focused at a religion’s lecture, it would have been this one, her gaze always on Laeticia’s face, and she was starteld when the bell rang.

“Don’t forget next’s week homework childrens, I know you won’t follow my advice but, if I were you, I would start working on it today. You can go.” Students started to put their things away quickly.

“Miss Lysandre, a word please.” Madam Laeticia was making her sign to come at her desk, what the girl did under the gaze of the other students.

“Yes madam?”

“Not now, we’ll wait until everyone as left, child.” Laeticia hushed her.

It took only five minutes for the students to disappear, all to eager to go back home and not do the religion’s homework.

“My poor child, I understood you where caught in the terrorist attack from last week. How are you feeling?”

“As good as I could wish after seeing a lot of people die and nearly dying myself, madam.”

Laeticia studied her intensely for a minute before speaking again.

“I saw you looking at me during the whole class, very focused. Has something happened?”

“Nothing, madam.”

“You’re sure? You gave Kevin weird looks when he entered the class earlier. Would it happen that you.. saw… something?”

“Saw something, madam? Except for the openly disgusting look he throw at me and two or three other girsl, madam?”

“Yes, except that.”

“And what would I have… seen… madam?”

“Oh? I don’t know, something befitting the disgust in your eyes, maybe?”

Lysandre looked at her. She know, or she as some suspition at least. What to do, I wonder… Ah, for fuck’s sake, I’m dead in two month after all, let’s take some risk!

“Well, maybe I saw… something… that did disgust me… a long, black something.” Her word didn’t have the effect she thought they would have, as she saw Laeticia crumble in her chair, seemingly very tired.

“So you saw it?”

“Yes, madam.” What little hope was left in Laeticia’s eyes disappeared when she heard Lysandre’s answer.

After a long silence, the Professor looked back at her. “And I bet it’s not the first of the day, is it?”

“It’s indeed not the first of the day. Y-you… do you happen to know something about them?”

“Yes, I do, but this is not a talk for a classroom. I’ll need to find an excuse to take you in a safe place… not today. I’ll find something. In the meantime, child, try to interact as little as possible with parasited people; that’s how we call this state, parasited; because they’re dangerous, in spite of them. Understood, child?”

“Yes, madam.”

“Great. I know this is quite suddent and that you’re most certainly afraid quite a bit, but don’t worry, everything will be explained to you in time, child, I promise that.”

She was surprizingly caring, and Lysandre caught herself answering with a bit of respect in her voice. “Yes, madam.”

“You can go, child. Take care, I’ll find a way to talk with you safely.”