Miss Oakley

December 16, 2008
By Rebecca Lampe, Overland Park, KS

I took in the first drag of my smoldering cigarette.
“You’re wasting all my money; you know that?” I yelled to the late bell. It chose not to respond. I tossed my cancerous twinge behind me and made my way past a stray teacher’s glare and into my fifth hour class: World History.
“It’s nice to know you’re alive and well, Miss Oakley.” My overlord commented. This was my tenth tardy to his class this quarter, a new personal best. I slumped into my broken desk and glanced at the chalkboard’s headline: Christopher Columbus.
“Christopher Columbus set sail for India in 1498...”
I turned up my iPod and began to daydream. My teacher’s head looked bigger than yesterday. It actually seemed to be getting larger by the second. His tiny body swayed to and fro underneath the massive bulge. His eyes retreated beneath his eyelids, and his skin took on a sickly green tone. Green goo oozed out of his pores. He regained his balance for a moment, but then his head burst open, spraying the front row with slime. The thought made me giggle. He heard me and walked to my desk, looking angry as he said something I couldn’t hear. He yanked my headphones off.
“I said, are we clear on this matter?”
I stared at the growing wrinkles on his forehead.
“Ten minute break, class,” he waved them away. “Miss Oakley, I don’t think you’re taking this class seriously. You need to start paying attention in class and completing the homework assignments.”
I was about to counter his attack when the screeching fire drill sounded.
“We’re not scheduled to have a fire drill today.” He muttered before leaving the room.
I slung my bag over my shoulder and exited the room. After shoving my way through the herd, I found a nice tree to rest against. I was about to close my eyes when I heard the upcoming sirens. Widening my eyes, I saw the teachers in dithers. They huddled together, whispering to each other selectively. I surveyed the building and detected a small stream of smoke emerging from the left wing. I pushed my way towards the back lot, but was stopped by a bulky, yellow arm.
“Miss, I have to ask you to rejoin your class.”
“Wait,” I fought against him to see, “wait, what’s going on out here?”
“Miss, please, we’re under a serious-”

“Earlier today a local high school received quite a scare. Chet tells us more from the scene.”
“That’s right, Shirley. I’m here at Evergreen Fields High where at around noon today students and faculty were forced to evacuate due to smoke sightings. Mere minutes later firefighters arrived and discovered a fire source underneath a food services semi. Before firefighters could secure the area, the semi burst open in a wild explosion. We have now learned the fire started from a discarded, lit cigarette. No injuries were sustained in the blast, but onlookers were pelted with lime Jell-O from the semi. Back to you, Shirley.”

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