March 18, 2008

Here, have an excerpt if you may

Hello again, please enjoy my failing failures.

I've wanted to get this one off my chest for a while :D I don't really have a title for it. Uh, I guess something funny and cheesy like "Ms. Kirkland & Her Marvelous Obsession" would be good. Or just "Ms Kirkland".

Anyway, it's about Ms. Kirkland and her mildly creepy obsession with Mrs. Grant, the end-all be-all teacher.

Did I say mildly creepy? How about...very creepy. Creepy as FUCK. I love how my blog colors wildly contrast with the darker tone of the story. It's fantastic :D like me!

So it starts like this:

Mrs. Grant. The woman’s short, wavy black hair (with the occasional grey streak) was in her face and she was smiling. At least a few of her students were attentive, and that was good enough for her. Ms. Kirkland’s hair had gone almost completely grey very early, something she tried to cover with hair dye. But it was a failing front, as nothing was dark enough to hide her age. Today she was a brunette, tomorrow a redhead perhaps? It had become one of her signature traits, the color-changing hair. She was only in her late thirties yet she felt so much older, looked so much older, especially in the face of Mrs. Grant’s bottomless energy and enthusiasm. Mrs. Grant’s hair was a paradigm, immutable and immaculate; she wasn’t afraid of her age and welcomed it gracefully. Ms. Kirkland wasn’t so much envious as she was proud, proud of a woman so unlike herself. And maybe a bit infatuated. But that was alright, a little deep respect between teachers was nothing wrong.

The bell rang. Ms. Kirkland noticed her laptop screen had gone dark, and she hadn’t graded a single paper. She’d promised the students they would get their tests back this period, but now they’d have to wait another day. Or maybe two, she wasn’t really sure. There weren’t that many tests, but so many questions and grading was such an arduous task.

She watched the students file out the library to their next class, splitting like an amoeba in the hallway. Amoeba. Biology test. Damn.

Mrs. Grant breezed past Ms. Kirkland with a suspicious look and a slight nod of acknowledgement. Ms. Kirkland smiled and waved, then packed up her things and departed back to her own class.

Then turns into this:

“Excuse me, Ms. Kirkland,” one student in the back asked. “Are we getting our tests from last month back before or after the next test?”

Some of the class giggled uncomfortably because it was a genuine concern. Ms. Kirkland sent a glare in the general direction of the student.

“You’ll get them when you get them, now get out some paper. By the way, do any of you have Mrs. Grant next period?”

A couple of students raised their hands. Ms. Kirkland nodded to each of them, grinning.

“She’s doing an exciting lecture in the library today. Make sure you all pay attention, I think there’s a quiz when you get back to class. Tell her I said hi, by the way, I didn’t get a chance to earlier.”

The class groaned. They knew fleeting hints of Ms. Kirkland’s one-sided friendship with Mrs. Grant. But they could never know its true depth. They were like bosom buddies, in Ms. Kirkland’s mind. Friends ‘til the end, even though Mrs. Grant would rather Ms. Kirkland not exist at all.

Mrs. Grant had told that to Jenny Laker’s class one day. She’d given Ms. Kirkland’s greetings and Mrs. Grant had whirled on her with frightening speed.

“Who?” she demanded, chalk trembling in her hand.

“M-Ms. Kirkland,” Jenny had stuttered. “She said hi.” The chalk broke in Mrs. Grant’s hand.

“Don’t mention that vile woman,” she said, voice barely below shouting. “I despise her. She’s a horrible teacher and a horrible person. If you’re in her class get out now. If I hear one more word from her, I’ll…I swear I will…”

Mrs. Grant had set to muttering, the class totally forgotten. She was entranced by the board and Ms. Kirkland’s tidings. No one else had ever mentioned Ms. Kirkland in her class ever again.

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