The Witches Past, Chapter 8

The Witches Past, Chapter 8

Breann Carlson and Eden Medlin

The teacher, who had previously been sitting at a desk at the front of the room stood and started stating the rules and expectations of the classroom. While most of my peers had their attention turned fully to the instructor, mine was directed towards the boy beside me. He was still staring at me, I noticed, and his eyes had the same look to them as they did in the dream.

Who is this guy? How did he know me; and why is he staring at me?! A deep mixture of fright and annoyance clouded my judgment as I glared at him. The boy slowly turned his head around, and he copied the actions of the rest of the room, his eyes no longer on me, but the teacher in the front of the room. I tried to do the same, but my thoughts were too jumbled up to focus on anything else but him.

“Miss?” I heard someone say, the voice distant in the back of my mind. “Excuse me, Miss?” The voice was louder this time, but my eyes remained locked onto the mysterious boy with the dark hair.

Suddenly, I felt a sharp jab on my shoulder, and my brain cleared immediately.

“Hm?!” I said rather loudly, and the class erupted into a chorus of laughter; slowly dying down, as the teacher began speaking again.

I found myself once again looking at the boy, my head bent in embarrassment. I expected him to be chuckling, or at least have a ghost of a grin on his face. When I got the courage to look over at him, I realized that he was not, in fact, laughing. The boy wasn’t even smiling, and it sort of creeped me out in all honesty.

What happened to this guy? Why didn’t he do anything but read and display a neutral look at all times? Why was he in my dreams? These questions were pouring into my head for the second time.

I was drowning in curiosity, and hoped for something, anything, to deter my attention from the boy. Then, seemingly at just the right time, a paper was placed on my desk, the words “Rules and Expectations” plastered on the front in bold lettering.

“Please read this carefully, and if you have any more questions, feel free to ask me. Oh, and my name is Ms. Richardson. As long as you obey the rules and do your work, we will get along just fine.”

I looked at the boy one more time and picked up my purple binder off of the floor, placing it on my desk. I plucked the bright yellow folder out of the binder and yet again looked at him. That unexplained look remained on his face. I found myself struggling to remain calm. I uncomfortably fidgeted the entire time. Until the sharp sound of a bell informed me of my inevitable relief from the boy I couldn’t stop myself from staring at.