Hourglass [ H.HJ ]

4: Late

— the next day

"Today, class, we're going to learn the basics of some important mythological creatures. Tomorrow, we're going to compare how they impacted people from the past and the world as we know it today," my history teacher, Mrs. Leung said. It was her favourite part of teaching this class as it meant that she could remain ambiguous and mystifying while still helping us learn.

Mrs. Leung was a tall woman, taller than any woman I'd ever seen. A mixed Malaysian-Irish, she was quite friendly with a stocky figure yet she made an impact in the classroom and everyone knew that she meant business. My favourite part of her was her perfectly trimmed shiny black nails that made her seem like she'd gone to a manicure every three hours. Those nails would drum on the desk where she sat while we worked on assignments, and after spending a fair amount of time inadvertently drifting my attention to the tapping rhythm more than taking notes, I'd come to realize that the pattern and speed at which she drummed them represented her thought process.

Half the class seemed to be bored out of their mind while the other half matched her energy and a low buzz of excited chatter took place. Comments ranged from the quieter, sneaky jabs about copying off of a smart best friend to wondering if there were going to be group projects—which led to yet another string of conversation discussing who would be in each group. I, on the other hand, stayed quiet and casually waited for Mrs. Leung to continue. It wasn't like I had anyone around my area to converse with, nor did I want one.

"Settle down," she smiled. "I know we're all excited but questions come after my lecture. Start passing the textbooks around and turn to the fifth chapter or else you're all getting extra work today." Mrs. Leung had a habit of playfully threatening us with homework, and the class acquiesced quickly.

This was my favourite unit as well, and I smiled to myself while flipping the smooth pages of the textbook. They were perfect, just the way I liked them.

•

— omniscient

The boy wiped the blood that formed at his mouth in frustration. He was going to be late for his classes and he groaned. This wasn't abnormal for him—it seemed as if being late because of his morning regimes was a ritual these days.

Every day it was as if there was no progress. Was he really getting stronger? Or perhaps weaker than the start? He was tired of this endless cycle, but he knew that he had to endure it if he wanted to live.

If he wanted her to live.

He fell down onto his bed in exasperation. Why did the world have to be so cruel on him but not on others? It sounded selfish, and he knew it yet he couldn't help it. All these duties, piled onto his shoulders one after the other. It was exhausting. He was still young, too. Did that not matter?

Internal suffering. That was all that ravaged him, destroyed him, ruined him. But he had to endure it. It was his duty. As for him getting through it, well... only time would tell.

He inhaled and exhaled, then got back up. Forehead glistening with sweat, grit on his hands, a pang in his chest, and determination in his eyes.

The hourglass had started.

•

— akuji jang

"Does anyone here know what a banshee is?" Mrs. Leung asked, a sparkling glint in her eyes. A short wave of discussion fell over the class until a girl whose name I don't know (why pay attention to the people in my class anyway?) put her hand up.

"A banshee is a very beautiful lady that causes death onto others by wailing... I think?" She suggested. Mrs. Leung smiled at her response.

"Almost. Different types of banshees bring different things into a person. For example, certain banshees exist solely to murder, while others warn that death is near to an individual. Still others help carry someone dead safely into the afterlife. Yet the one thing that they are always associated with, despite their usually beautiful appearance, is death."