Hello Monday

Part 5; 2:57 pm

Silence. Pin-drop silence. Literally.

No one made a sound. Heck, no one even attempts to open their mouths, scared out of their wits. I say the same for myself. My heart races and my sweat breaks out. I'm not surprised if I find myself sitting in a puddle. We hold our breaths, willing the people outside to go away.

"Victor, notice here. Class 12A is moved to Lab 4A."

Relief floods me. I take a glance at Dr. Sanders, seeing that she was already looking at me. We must have been staring at each other's relief because next thing we know, we are offering meek smiles to each other. I can guarantee that one thing and one thing only is going through our minds: thank goodness for Mr. Emmett's forgetful self.

Mr. Emmett may be all for education since his youth, however nothing can stop his aging, not even the education he is preoccupied about. He is growing older and his brain is too. Although he hasn't forgotten any of his past knowledge, he is a tad lacking in trying to remember recent events, including forgetting to take off the sign that he pasted on the door two days ago.

"Monday, stay here." Then receding footsteps.

Everyone releases the not-so-subtle breath they held. This is temporary relief, though. I know it is. I also know that we can't bring our guards down because the enemy strikes when we least expect it.

I crawl on all fours, forcing my head close to my classmates' school shoes that barely act as barriers to the smelly feet they hide underneath. They are too close for comfort, but I figure that now is not the time to be complaining about feet that are in desperate need of attention. Once I arrive at my destination, I get up and sit on my knees, still staying as low as possible. Slowly, I rise and peek through the window that is right by the door.

I don't know what I expected: a big, burly man with shaggy hair and a wild, tangled beard? Or a thin, lanky man with shoulder-length, greasy black hair and cold, black eyes?

Even from afar, I could tell that he definitely doesn't have the face of a prince—that I expected. It was too far to make out his facial features, however, what struck out to me is his long, brown hair that is barely combed back into a messy man bun, as if he tied it in a hurry before he went on his way to terrorize a school. I'll tell you what I didn't expect, though. I didn't expect him to look so casual.

White House Down, Olympus Has Fallen, The Expendables. They have one thing in common: if not suits, most of them wore all black outfits with black vests to finish off the look. Much to my surprise, that's not what this lad is wearing. He has on an off-white long-sleeved henley shirt with the first few buttons opened and the sleeves rolled to his elbows. He tucks that shirt into black, fitted jeans and sports black combat boots. Okay sure, he is wearing a lot of black, but did I mention the off-white henley shirt? It's off-white for goodness' sake! And no vest with that! I might just think that he's not even remotely ready to terrorize anything if it weren't for the long, black gun he carries in his right hand.

Although I did expect to see someone who looks unkempt (which he does, from his hair and all), his arrogant yet bold, cocky yet powerful, bossy yet charismatic stance tells me he is anything but. Plus, he is filled in all the right places; I have to give him credit for that.

Blaming his charisma, I couldn't take my eyes off of him. Not even when he turns his head to look towards my direction. Before he could see my head peeking through the window, though, Dr. Sanders pulls me down by the hand. My eyes stay locked forward, now staring at an empty wall. It feels as if I am cast under a spell. A spell that makes my mind go blank, staring at nothing in particular.

"Are you insane, Linette?" Dr. Sanders turns me by my shoulders so I am facing her. She gives my shoulders a little shake and that is when the spell broke.