Another Day Of School

Oh, not another day of school. I drag my lifeless body out of bed and to the shower. The cold water runs down my back and shocks me at first but soon it’s soothing on my day-old sunburn. After dressing and choking down a bowl of stale cereal, I fall out the door and onto the pavement on my way to school.1

Walking past the silent houses and ancient joggers, I walk past the place I have seen every school day since grade seven. The old house is creaking in its age and sighing in emptiness. I glance at it, and slowly stop walking just to look. I step onto the lawn, feeling it crunch in dehydration. Taking a few more pained steps, I stoop to pick up a dandelion and close my eyes. Pausing to think of a wish, I wonder if there is a peeking grandfather or old woman peering out of the houses in the street, wondering what this teenage girl is doing standing in the yard of the house that has been abandoned as long as anyone can remember.2

Giving up for a wish I blow the dandelion and open my eyes to see the wind carry all the seeds away. All gone in one blow. Dropping the stem, I turn to walk away but hear a noise behind me. It couldn’t be coming from the house. The house is dead. Peering over my shoulder, aching from my bag strap rubbing on my red raw skin, I don’t see anything.3

Turning to face the house, I decide. I should go inside. There has never been anything stopping me, except a collapsing wooden door, but it just seems like trespassing. Although the only things alive in this house are the silent mice and the damp mould, grown from the years of being lost in the wet darkness.4

I take a breath, and step towards the house, each footsteps getting faster until I’m standing right at the door. Reaching forward, the hairs on my arms stand on end as a cold drift comes from under the useless door. I grab the door, feeling the wood crumble in my fingertips and break away as I pull it towards me. My hand comes away, not opening the door but with a handful of old wood that I quickly wipe on my school trousers. Reaching forward to try again, instead of pulling, I push and the whole door gives way, revealing the black entrance.5

It looks so dark in there, compared to the newly risen sun and it scares me. Swallowing my uneasiness, my foot lifts, and takes one step inside. As my foot lowers I don’t feel the unstable, uneven floor boards I was expecting, but through my shoes I can tell it’s wet carpet. I step forward again, engulfing myself in the darkness. 6

The room is heavy on my chest and cold on my face, as I try and breathe in the prehistoric air. Panicking for just a moment, before catching my breath and waiting for my eyes to adjust. It felt like forever but I started to make out shapes in the darkness. Suddenly not feeling so afraid I make my way to the closest figure and reach forward, with one hand to see what I’ve found. 7

One hand stays tightly gripped around my waist, but the other softly touches something, so covered in dust I can feel it on my fingers. Running my hand over it’s otherwise smooth surface, I discover it’s a table. Leaning on my arm, to see its strength I move closer and run both hands over it in search for something else. Feeling my hand sharply hit something and a rush of liquid, shocks me as I pull my hand away. Moving away from the table I lift my arm to check my watch.8

I had already missed my bus, and probably late for school, so I turned to find the doorway of darkness that had enveloped my body not long before. Expecting a rectangle of light to be right behind me, it shocked me to see nothing. The same nothingness the rest of the room seemed to be in. 9

Slowly panicking I stumbled forward and found a wall. I could feel my hand getting scratched on the peeling paint and splinters, as I clawed my way. If I kept following the wall I knew I would find the door again. My shin hitting on a piece of darkness, I fell forward once more, to feel my body thrust against something sharp and uneven. I reach down and feel my leg, wet with blood. Swearing and cursing I find my feet again, just to fall onto my knees on the wet carpet. I pull myself along the floor, keeping one hand in front, to watch out for anything that will hurt me. 10

Feeling once again the legs of the table, I know where I am and drag myself to where the door should be. There is still only darkness, but I thrust my hands forward all in one push, expecting to hit wall. But I hit nothing... and pulling my body to where my hands are, I close my eyes. I keep pulling, afraid to open my eyes and see the nothingness I have been seeing. 11

My hands keep grabbing the ground, until there is nothing to grab and I feel myself fall. Swearing as I get thrown down, I feel my head ache and my chest burn. Finally hitting a resting spot I take the biggest breath of my life and open my eyes.12

The sunlight hits me hard and shocks me. But as my eyes adjust I find myself lying at the front of the house. The grass is still dry and scratching me. I reach down and feel my leg, and the wet warm blood has gone. My hands are no longer stained or scratched from the walls and floor, and the bruises have gone. I was just a teenage girl, lying on my back in the front yard of the house I had always seen but never entered. Until today. It was like a dream... A real nightmare. 13

Slowly rising to my feet, I reach down and adjust my uniform. Stepping, the lawn once again crunches in dehydration and I stoop once more to pick up a dandelion. Blowing it away without even pausing for a wish, I check my watch. It’s only ten to eight; I left home five minutes ago. And now with nothing left to show for my adventure, but an uncertain memory, I stand up straight. I pull my bag onto my dry aching shoulder and start walking, fast and far away from this house. 14

At the end of the street, I stop and take one more look back. The house is standing as it always was. Nothing looked different. I wondered if I really am going crazy, but just as I shrug it off and start to turn, something catches my eye. I take a few steps closer and squint in the sunlight. The little broken down house, standing as normal as ever. Exactly how it always was. Except looking closer I see a shattered door, lying at the entrance. The entrance to the darkness. The nothingness.15

I smile to myself, and once again go to turn around, and as I do I notice a little boy, slowly making his way to the door. Readjusting his bag on his shoulder, he looks around. Curious of what’s inside, he reaches his hands forward and gets enveloped in the darkness. I smile and turn around. 16

Oh, not another day of school.17