The silent class

December 21, 2012
The teacher sighed and held his head in his hands; massaging his aching temples. The day was no where near being over and his “favorite” class of the day had yet to begin. Two more hours and three periods within those two hours and than the day would end. He would be able to go home to his beautiful fiancée. They would exchange remarks about their respective classes, eat dinner, shower and watch a movie curled up in each others arms. Removing his hands from his head he turned on the projector and put the days P.O.D on the board.

Twenty minutes into period six and it was quiet, something very unusual for this class. Even when they took a quiz they weren’t quiet. The only time the class was ever truly quiet was when they took a chapter test and they weren’t die for one of those for at least a week. Mentally the teacher did a check off. The “That’s what she said” boy was here; one time his that’s what she said comment was so bad that the teacher had to leave the room. The loud and obnoxious one was here sitting with her hands folded gazing off into nothing. So was the racist one and the door freak. A student that most of them knew hadn’t recently passed away either. So what was going on? Something wasn’t right. Setting the smart board pen down on the white board tray the teacher turned to the class.

“Alright guys, what’s going on? Why are you quiet today?” Nothing, not a single response. It was like talking to a bunch of dead fish. A lone hand slowly raised itself, coming from the very back. The teacher nodded his head telling the person it was okay to talk.

“Mister. We are just doing what you wanted. Yesterday you told us to shut up and sit down. That we gave you a massive headache. One that even the strongest of all Tylenol could not help.” That one voice, one he could not identify, could not tell who’s voice it was or why they chose to talk when no one else wanted to.

“If I recall your exact words were. Will you guys just shut up for one second? You’re giving me a headache, I feel like crying because this class does nothing but talk and talk and talk. I have to take about seven Tylenol when I get home just to ease the headache I get from you guys. Can’t you guys just shut up for one day? That would make my life a lot easier.” The loud and obnoxious one repeated the words the teacher had said the day before, slowly and calmly. Something he did not believe would be possible for her.

“Did I really say that? I do not recall.” The teacher was shocked that he could have possibly said something so cruel to his students.

“Yeah you did. I thought it was because we were black.” The racist one her voice a little louder than the other two but not by much.

“Left us in shock. That’s what you did.” This comment came from the door freak, he voice soft and broken. The “that’s what she said” boy didn’t say anything except nod. Not a single comment from him. All the words that his students said resounded in his head, the quiet classroom should seem like a dream come true. But it wasn’t it was more like a nightmare with no sign of waking up.

The teacher bolted foreword in his bed drenched in sweat, the blinking green dial on his clock said it was one in the morning on Friday, the day the world should end. Shaking the unsettling thoughts of his dream from his head he lay back down and closed his eyes. He loved his obnoxious class. Without them there would be no true reason to go to work. They brighten up his day even though they are really loud.

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