Dream ≠ h.h.j

03

My table was a complete mess with pencils and papers scattered all over the table, occupied by compasses and a calculator on the top; it was an unpleasant sight for anyone to see. It would be an understatement to say that it was a mess, because it was simply disastrous. But I refuse to even go there.

All of this effort was for my Add-Maths homework- which I had forgotten to do yesterday due to some 'unfortunate' circumstances that I was faced with

I only realised it after dwelling on nothing for the past ten minutes before reality came crashing down. I could not piss off another teacher anymore.  

I scribbled down my answers quickly, knowing too well that half of them were wrong but not having the time to re-do it, I continued the chaos. 

...

I didn't know when, but before I knew it, I was plunged into the dark depths of the blue ocean.  

I could tell that I was in the water because of how slow and painful my movements were, similar to how strength is to be exerted under water to keep yourself afloat. I was not keeping myself afloat however, instead, I was going deeper and deeper the more I tried to swim ashore. I could not help it, it came to me like a natural instinct as one does with breathing that you would run away from any danger when in face of one.

I could barely breathe without feeling suffocated and trapped, and screaming for help only drowned my energy and breathes. I sunk lower and lower, all the while my eyes red from being underwater looked up to the shining hope instead of the ugly monstrosity that awaited me below. 

I didn't know what it was, but I knew it would bring me harm. Again and again the phrase 'Don't bring me down there' was repeated in my mind as a plea to the Gods. My mind was fading away as I ran out my final breathe of air, and it was then that I saw the thing I dreaded the most. 

Then, whiteness. 

...

"Excuse me"

A muffled voice. 

"Excuse me, you dropped this."

A voice sweet like honey rang beside my ear and I sprang up from my seat, desperately gasping for air as I panted heavily. Water. I dreamt of water? I felt like I had drank an abundance of water to the point where it felt unhealthy. I looked at my desk and my finished homework. I fell asleep once again. 

I looked to the voice in a daze and saw a friendly acquittance- Jieun- standing beside with a sheepish expression. She was fairly attractive girl with long, black, straight hair and bangs, fair skin, small plump lips,and she handed me a pen. 

I looked at the pen wearily. I did not store any pens in the first place so I knew it wasn't mine, but I felt a sense of obligation in accepting it. I wasn't too sure why. 

I hesitated before reaching out, but she placed the pen on my desk and simply smiled.

"Thank you." I blurted awkwardly, not knowing what to say after my strange dream that has now begun to fade away.

"Jieun!" a girl exclaimed from the front of the classroom and marched towards us.

"Hi Hanna, sorry let me borrow her for a while." she apologised and linked with Jieun's arms, excusing herself as she dragged Jieun with her.

I did not catch her name, but I knew she was one of Jieun's good friend. They left to their desk, but not without me feeling a sudden absurd sensation crawling upon me, like that of a spider menacingly approaching its prey. I couldn't tell if it related to my dream or it was just some random feeling that would materialize every once in a while out of the blue.  

I looked at the pen that was placed on my desk. It felt out of my place and it bothered me especially; it wasn't suppose to be there. Pencils were my go-to favorite, but never pens. It had an indefinite sharp tip that I would shudder whenever I saw one. It was... threatening. As childish as that sounds, I didn't like pointy objects. Even with pencils, I would only sharpen them at the bare minimum- never further. 

I stared at the stick and finally flicked it off far away from my table, hoping Jieun would not mistakenly think it was mine again.

It had only been a few minutes, but the deafening sound of the bell rang across the entire school, signalling the start of the first period. Everybody went back to their seats, but continued to chatter with whoever their seatmates belonged to; laughing at corny jokes while some patiently waited at their seats.

The door flung open. 

My homeroom teacher entered the class with a stern look on his face. Carrying several books in one hand and a huge pencil box in another, he walked to the large desk in the middle and  placed them down. Mr. Cha was his name, he was the type of teacher that got along with the students really well, that's why everyone grew silent upon seeing his face. 

I became worried too, only hoping this had nothing to do with me.

His eyes scanned around the classroom, searching for a particular someone as every student was being scrutinized by his intimidating glare. 

I realized I spoke too soon. 

His eyes landed on me and I broke into cold sweat, clearly intimidated by his fiery stare. I smiled at him nervously, hands fidgeting under the table as I tried my best to prove that I was innocent. I think he realized this and relaxed a little, smiling back at me in a friendly manner. I released an ounce of breath I didn't know I was holding, but quickly tensed up again by the uncomfortable stares of my classmates.

" What is everyone doing? Don't you have work to do? I need to talk to Hanna, not you lots! And Ethan, close your god damn mouth!" he bursted out shouting in the usual tone of his, where it's more carefree and light-hearted.

Everyone sighed in relief and started chattering among themselves, chuckling at the statement about Ethan who was now smiling sheepishly at the teacher. Some groaned and others simply listened to the instruction, working silently under the now cheerful atmosphere compared to seconds before where it was filled with tension.

I dragged both my feet to stand, making every step I took hard and heavy. I tried to step into the concrete with more force in hopes that more time would be wasted, but time went by exceptionally slow, as if daunting me that the more I resisted, the more I had to pay. 

I reached the table and sat down on a chair, looking directly at him and waited for the news that I dreaded for. I wanted to slam my head against the whiteboard.

Shit, it's the detention isn't it? 

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