Princi-not-my-pal

April 10, 2018
By Bruvton GOLD, Saskatoon, Saskatchewan
Bruvton GOLD, Saskatoon, Saskatchewan
19 articles 2 photos 20 comments

Favorite Quote:
"They don't think it is what it does, but it do." ~Oscar Gamble


I ran over to my locker and jumped in. It was all because of the principal. She was walking down the hallway.

"Where are you?" she asked in an almost creepy manner. I held my breath. "I know where you live," she added.

I heard a pause. I mean, I didn't hear a pause, but I heard the quietness of... Wait, I didn't hear anything, so I assumed she paused. She started walking. I heard the footsteps get closer and closer, then I heard nothing. That was my cue. I kicked my locker door as hard as I could, opening it and smashing her in the face. I watched briefly as she was knocked a bit back, but I didn't process her facial expression because I was too busy running for my life.

I was on the third floor of the school, running through the hallways. I heard her shoes slapping against the grey tile ground as she ran faster than me, almost catching up. Her movements were almost mechanical, and as efficient as possible. I approached the end of the hallway and took a sharp right turn into the stairway. I grabbed the heavy door and slammed it shut right as she would have caught up with me. She crashed through, almost losing her ballance.It gave me a few extra seconds. Instead of taking the stairs, I swiftly but cautiously jumped over the side railing, landed half-way down the next flight of stairs, then jumped all the way to the bottom. I heard footsteps from above and below then, so I knew the vice principal was approaching from below. How did he know?

I ran into the second floor, but was tackled to the ground. It was the superintendent. His hard hands pinned me to the ground, and I could not escape. He had the strength of a robot, and seemingly the mind of one, too. All of the high-end staff had robotic emotions. That means no, emotion, incase you're wondering.

The principal and the vice principal came rushing in. The principal opened the door of the electrical room, and the other helped carry my desperate, wriggling, fighting, pathetic, hopeless body into the dak room. The principal turned on the light, and the walls were painted a red-ish brown. It looked like it was painted by watercolours, and the roof was splashed with drops of the same paint. It looked like it was once liquidy, but dried out. The room also smelled like Sean's locker. he always left an assortment of foods in there for long periods of time until he was reminded of their existence as the newly sentient beings crawl out. There was no electrical equipment in that room except for a riding lawnmower. That was strange, considering that the school had no real grass.

The principal moved away from the door, closed it, then hopped in the lawnmower as the other two held me down. Then she revved it up, and drove closer. That was when my desperation strength came in. With adrenaline pumping through my veins instead of blood, I became a super human. I wriggled one hand free and grabbed a device from my pocket. It was a jammer. With one shockwave, all electronic devices around me would shut down or malfunction. That would stop the lawnmower, but not the assailants.

With superhuman speed, one of them tried t grab my hand back, but I pressed the button right on time. The room went silent. The lawnmower stopped. The principal, vice principal, and superintendent flopped to the ground. The light went out.

I sat in silence, almost surprised at what I had just witnessed. In a way, I was hoping, almost expecting, that they would stop too. I left the room, and within a day, I left the country.


The author's comments:

This is a one-off created just to get words on paper. Please be harsh and tell me how I can improve.


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