Crypid Afoot

One

Branches and leaves were all he could see. Passing by him in what seemed like a never-ending loop. Branch after branch smacking him in the face leaving faint scratches, some cutting him deeply letting out drops of blood. He was terrified. Running through the dense forest with nowhere to run and no sign of his friends. All he could focus on was not letting his knees buckle under him. He just needed to keep running. Oh god... I don't want to die. Please... I don't want to die!

He ran for a little while longer before he finally came to a crashing halt. His left knee buckled under him and he quickly met the ground. His face collided with a gigantic tree root that was protruding from the ground. He scrambled to his knees and crawled to the cover of the over-towering tree. He sat there breathing heavily as his brain mapped out the last few days like his life was flashing before his eyes. How? How did this happen?!

~~~

The sound of pencils scratching at paper filled the air. The lesson plan for today involved a lengthy paper on chapter 7 that the class was supposed to read the night before. Most students read the chapter while some decided to blow it off instead. The hushed whispers of panicking students could be heard throughout the room. Some confided in their friends for help while some googled SparkNotes™ in a desperate attempt to save their grade, as this paper was announced to be a big part of their final grade.

Suddenly a demanding voice sounded, startling some, "No talking. If you didn't read the chapter last night, that's on you. The next person to talk or even look on their phone will have their paper taken from them and a giant ZERO marked on it." The room was instantly quiet. Mr. Hamada was not a joking man, at least not with students who didn't do their work or pay attention in class. One student in particular never really had an issue with Mr. Hamada or his harsh teaching. In fact, he was already finished with his paper. He stood up, one earbud placed in his left ear and the other dangling down his chest. The boy's favorite hoodie casually draped over his new t-shirt that read Every school day feels like Monday on it. His lower half consisted of cargo shorts with black and white checkerboard vans to match. He tossed his backpack over his left shoulder and strode up to Mr. Hamada who was sitting at his desk reading other classes' papers. "All finished, Tony?" He questioned the young boy, not even glancing up from the current paper he was grading.

"Yes, sir. All done," he responded, handing over his completed paper. Mr. Hamada took a quick glance through it and set it aside. He gave him an approving head nod and continued to grade previous students' work. Tony spoke again, "Mr. Hamada, would it be okay if I went to another class for the rest of the period?" The man finally peered up from his work.

"Have you completed the summary and notes from last class," he raised an eyebrow at the tall teen.

"Yes sir, give me one second," Tony then placed his bag on the edge of the desk, out of Mr. Hamada's way. Unzipping his bag, he slipped his binder out and began shuffling through his work from the last two days. Jesus, I have too much shit in here... Finally, he found his notes and summary, handing them to his teacher to inspect while he re-packed all of his notes back into the binder. Upon placing his binder in his pack, he zipped it up and threw it over his shoulder as he awaited Mr. Hamada to give his final answer.

Mr. Hamada thumbed through the pieces of paper and set them down on the desk in front of him. "Okay, Tony. You're good to go. Which class are you going to," he pulled out the student hall passes and began filling it out with his name and the date. "It'll be the Library, Mrs. Miller's class is in there right now working on labs," he replied. Mr. Hamada then finished the hall pass for Tony and handed it to him, "See you next week, Tony. Keep those grades steady, okay?" Tony nodded to him and turned to exit through the door before accidentally bumping into another student on his way out, scattering her paper all over the floor. Why can't I ever leave a room normally? He apologized quickly and bent down to help her get her finished paper back in order. He peered up at her as he was picking up the filled pages. She has freckles lining her face with thick red hair to match.