And So She Runs

A Bird in a Cage

"Shit!" Laura murmured in rage as she tore through her bag. "Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit!" Crumpled papers flew and crinkled under the weight of the heavy binders. Her house keys jingled; clipped to the front of her backpack with a flimsy piece of string. "Where is it?" She exclaimed, digging into deep abyss of her disorganized bag. "Where the heck are you?"

Around her, people began rising out their desks, some giving her a smug shoulder of "look what I have." In their hands Laura could indeed see the glistening white sheets of completed assignments, longing to find one in her own bag. She had actually worked hard on her homework. She had reviewed and edited until there was pride sewn into her words. Solid research, works cited, double spaced, MLA. Why did she have to forget everything important. She knew finding it was hopeless.

With a figurative tear in her eye, the girl resorted to banging her head on her scribbled desk, as if she could jog some memory of where it might be. Maybe, if lucky enough, she could unlock a secret map to the void that was her bag – a Newton 'Eureka!'

"Ms. Bailey, are you alright there?" The frazzled girl, ears tracking the sound of dislike embedded in the gruff, strained voice, looked up at her old teacher, who she swore could easily be from 15th century England. His hair was greying, his skin irritatingly pudgy, and his suit dingy and scarred.

Other students, many of whom she had grown up with, let out a short giggle before quickly moving on with their lives. Frankly, she doubted they gave a shit. That's what happened in places like this, people just gave up on caring much about anything.

"Um, yes, sir. Just finding my assignment." The pompous little grin that rose on his little pink face gave no encouragement whatsoever of him believing her.

"Okay, then. I wish you luck."

She returned his smile with the face of someone who really wanted to say "fuck you", but couldn't. She returned to her bag for one last try. She hated the teacher and he hated her. It was a symbiotic relationship of sorts.

Eventually, after sifting through her cluttered junk once more, Laura Bailey gave up her witch hunt. Her assignment was just too good a hider. Or maybe - no, probably - she just forgot it at home. She did that a lot. Instead, Laura decided to accept whatever punishment Mr. Mackenzie may give her.

With everyone done handing in their work, Mr. Mackenzie picked up a piece of chalk to start the lesson. No more words to her, Laura thanked to god. She only had to survive one last period of school today.

The disappointed student, with no assignment to hand in, decided to drown her sorrows by spending the rest of global geography spacing out. For her, this mostly consisted of glancing out the windows as the teacher droned on and on about hemispheres and stuff that most people would forget by tomorrow. It was lucky that she got a seat on the far side of the class, near the back. That way, most people couldn't even see her slacking off.

She watched the birds as they glided through the cloudy sky. Her head rested on the palm of her hand which in turn rested on her elbow. They must not like these kind of days, she speculated about those birds. The fog and clouds cover up all the sun and the wind from the coast is harsh. Yet, still, she guessed, she would rather be flying out there than stuck behind these Plexiglas windows. If she was a bird, school was definitely her cage. It would be for the next 3 years.

At other times, Laura would glance at the only desk beside hers, which was empty today. She wondered, during odd and completely random times, why Tessa might be absent. Life was frightfully boring without her. The day passed slowly, and the clock struggled to move forward.