The Potential of a Day

Chapter 5: School's Out

School’s Out

          In the end, I’m not sure why I wander to the building where I used to attend elementary and middle school. It’s the second week of summer holiday; no one will be there. Nevertheless, somehow, my body finds its way there. Once I’m standing at the thick glass doors, I realize the slight flaw in my subconscious plan. School is out. The doors are locked. Duh. Maybe I just expected something different, since I’ve somehow convinced myself this is all just some experience in moving on.

          Perhaps I just don’t have any unfinished business here. Which seems odd, seeing as the people here have all become distant since my downward spiral after Sephie’s death. Then again, no one is here; and even if they were, it would be younger kids, it’s been several years since I graduated this place; the high school is in a separate building.

          As I’m turning to leave, I nearly stride straight into someone else making their way up the steps to this institution. A teacher, though I don’t know what she would be doing here either. Curly graying hair, and little round spectacles. I seem to recall I used to think of her as incredibly tall, someone to look up to, in various senses of the term. But now, look at her, I find myself looking down; apparently, she’s shorter than me now; which surprises me. She certainly aged, in the last couple of years. There is some spark of recognition in her eyes, as I am sure there is in mine. I forget what grade it was, but sometime during my years in this school building, she was my teacher. I can’t seem to remember her name.

          “Oh, um uh…what was it…Sephie, right?” the woman questions.

          “No, uh…that was my…” but for some inexplicable reason, the need to correct her dies in my chest, along with my flustered words, “yeah, that’s right, it’s Sephie, Ms.…?”

          “Ace, Ms. Ace.”

          “Right.”

          “It’s been quite a few years since I had your face in my class, what are you doing here, dear?” she steps past me, using a key card to unlock the door. Glad for the chance encounter; with her here, getting into the building is surprisingly straightforward. The older woman ushers me inside, talking as we go.

          “It’s summer holiday; I could ask you the same thing..”

          The woman laughs, a self-deprecating sound, “I forgot my favourite coffee-mug, I only just got around to coming back for it. So how about you, sweetie?”

          “I don’t know, nostalgia I suppose,” it isn’t a lie.

          “I suppose high school can do that to someone. Just wait until you’re my age; you’ll come lurking around here then too, trust me.”

          Inside the school now, the two of us start up a flight of stairs. “I’ll tell you, I’m glad you’re here, I always found myself wondering what ended up happening to your sister and you. You were such good girls, then you both kind of just fell off the map, no offense.”

          I smile, “none taken.”

          “So tell me, how is she doing?”

          “Who?”

          “Well your sister of course.”

          My mouth falls open, I’m about to tell her that Sephie died two years ago. Then I remember that at the moment, I’m pretending to be her. In the end, what’s the big difference? We look practically the same, used to do every single thing together, and now, both our lives are as good as over, and done with, “actually…not that well. High school isn’t going well for her, actually, life in general isn’t. She’s having problems, failing, you know?” The proper word would be failed. I ended it, I’m done.