This Is Concerning

I Maybe Just Ended The World But I'm Not Sure?

So, picture this in your close-minded brain. I know it might be difficult to have a flexible imagination through your bigotry and unwillingness to hear all sides of the story, but just work with me here.

I was walking through the halls of my high school—I can hear you gasp through the book; "This... terrorist goes to school? It converses with our children? Oh, heavens, no! Dearie me!" I needed to get to class, now let me continue!—and determinedly avoiding contact of any kind with anyone. Eye contact? Nah! Physical contact? No sir! Mental contact (what is mental contact? Google!)? Haha, nope! Vague peripheral vision contact? This is getting strange, but you bet your wisdom teeth I avoided it like the plague! What was my goal, you ask? I'm getting to that, calm your impatient self down.

My class was on the other side of the school, but I wasn't worried. I had three minutes to get there and didn't need to stop at my locker for anything. So, I walked. And walked. And walked. And walked. And walked.

Then I stopped walking, because I walked too much. I walked into my classroom door. My teacher, Mrs. Coro, opened the door, shook her head, and immediately tried to close it. I stopped her, sticking my foot in between the door and the wall.

"Morning, Mrs. Coro! How are you doing today?" I said cheerfully. She grunted in a disgruntled manner.

"It's the last period in the afternoon before you go home, idiot."

I gasped, clutching a hand against my chest in horror. "Mrs. Coro!" I cried. "Why, that's just harmful! How could you?"

"Easily." She grunted, taking a swig of what must have been
her eighth cup of alcohol—sorry—coffee that day. "Just sit down and wait for the rest of the class."

"They're probably not coming." I pointed out helpfully.

She eyed me suspiciously. "And why is that?"

"Because it's a half day, Mrs. Coro!" I laughed at her ridiculousness. What kind of teacher doesn't know when their school has a half day?

"Why are you here, then?" She asked, exasperated. I looked down in contemplation.

"Why is anyone here, Mrs. Coro? In the grand scheme of things, do we even make a difference?" I would have continued my existential philosophy, but Mrs. Coro cut me off.

"Not on the planet, you nitwit! In my classroom! In the school! Why are you here?"

My brain widened in realization (wait, what?) as I finally understood what she said (but what did I say?). "Oh! I forgot my math book. I have homework. And I wanted to give you a piece of candy!" I placed a strawberry lollipop in her hand.

"I'm allergic to this and we both know it," she said dryly.

I laughed uncomfortably; I didn't know it. "Do we? I'm so sorry. Do you want a different one?" I was about to pull a small ziplock bag of candy out of my hoodie's pocket, but she stopped me.

"No," she spoke, sounding tired. "No. Just— Just go home. And stay there. Please."

So, being a wonderful (sort-of) human being, I obliged. Kind of. Not really. This is where the story gets interesting, so pay attention!

I walked to the wall of lockers adorning my school's main hallway. One of them was glowing, ironically, black, and I thought, 'My calling!' So, I went and used my expert lock picking skills taught to me by some creepy guy on YouTube and broke into the locker. Inside the aforementioned locker was a lot of dark colored stuff. So, I grabbed some of it and walked to a different locker, which was also glowing. I assumed it was a failed science project someone forgot to turn off, but this one was just blue, instead of anything ironic or crazy. I was curious, so I broke in. This one didn't even have a lock on it, so in reality I just opened the locker, but it sounds cooler to say that I broke in. Just let me lie, okay?