I passed out while writing this.
I apologize again for being two days late.
Here's a 2000-word chapter for y'all to compensate for it.
Hope it's worth it!
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You thank the kids for their attention as Mrs. Pomp arrives back into the class from her trip to the restroom. She makes her way to the front of the class, while you head to the wall and lean back, watching as she teaches the kids 1st Grade-level math. You couldn't wrap your mind around this entire thing. Yes, you got a job, and yes, this is a normally-functioning summer school, but why is everything in it so irregular?
You scan the room and look at all of the people inside. We have a head in a heel, a live sock puppet, a series of random shapes, a girl with scribbled eyes and hair, and a kid with a supposed toilet as a head. You feel yourself start to hyperventilate again. You rub your temples and close your eyes for a bit. You force yourself to start thinking positive. 'You're just overreacting,' you tell yourself. 'Don't be scared, they're definitely not dangerous.'
You think back to meeting the staff. You recall their unique and friendly personalities — all like 'normal' people. All of a sudden, you figure out that you're not scared anymore. Your confusion shifts into fascination about this whole ordeal. 'If this is real, and a world like this has been existing since who knows when,' you ponder, tapping your fingers together eagerly, 'then there may be some other things we're missing out on!'
"And that concludes the lesson," Mrs. Pomp stomps on the ground, pulling you from your thoughts. "[Y/N], would you be a dear and pass out the practice sheets?" You flinch at the sudden mention of your name. "Oh, y-yeah, of course!" You mentally facepalm at your stuttering and walk to the big math machine, where the stack lays on top of it.
You pick up the papers, pushing away your previous thoughts, and pass them out to the kids. When said and done, you look at the time. 10:24 AM. Just as you pinpoint the time into your mind, Mrs. Pomp starts announcing to the class that they have ten minutes to complete the sheet, then four minutes to pack their things."
You set a ten-minute timer on your phone to stay on top of things, then take a big sip from the bottle/glass of [F/D] from earlier. You smile as the drink travels through your taste buds. You then look to your left to see Mrs. Pomp heading towards you. You quickly swallow the drink and wait for a request. "Could you set an alarm?" She asks. "Already done," you reply. She smiles and stomps on the ground... happily?
You both chuckle and she goes to walk around the classroom, looking over her pupils and seeing how they're all faring with the problems. You feel yourself grow happier every second. You're not quite sure why you were so on-edge earlier. You are certain that this is something you could get used to, after some time, of course. You let yourself relax a little bit as you watch your coworker roam next to the working students.
You jump as your alarm rings throughout the whole room. Mrs. Pomp looks at you expectantly. "Ahem," you cleared your throat, "time is up! Turn in your quick-checks to me, then go and pack up!" You call out to them, "you have four minutes until the day is over!" All the kids scramble over to you, handing you their worksheet, then packing their bags.
You heard the same tune from earlier coming from the intercom, signaling the school day's end. You feel a heavy weight lift from your shoulders. You say goodbye to everyone as they take their leave. When only you and Mrs. Pomp remain, you slide onto the ground and huff in exhaustion. She chuckles at your action, saying thereafter, "the first day really does that to you."
You both share a happy glance at each other. "Good work out there," she compliments you, "you're such a great assistant. This job was way harder without assistance from someone like you." Hearing that compliment fills you with pride. Ecstasy flows through your veins as you stand up. "Not a problem! I'm stoked to be here." You offer a high-five, then she hits your hand with her heel. After a few moments of confusion, you remember that she has no hands, and give her an apologetic look. "Sorry, I uh.." you avert your eyes away from her and rub the back of your head, "forgot you didn't have any hands."
She laughs, "I get that a lot." You're relieved that she didn't take offense to it. "How do you usually do handshakes and whatnot?" You look at her quizzically. "I usually just let the person I'm interacting with hug me, do what you did, or we just do a chest-bump," she explains, "as long as they don't mess up my luxurious locks." You both find this hilarious and chortle loudly.
A knock erupts from the door. Your laughing dissipates as you both walk over to open it. You let Mrs. Pomp step out of the way before you open it, revealing Gotta Sweep. Surprise, and, ultimately, fear courses through you. 'Maybe I won't get used to these live inanimate objects,' You blink a few times to bring yourself back to the present, 'but I'll never judge them.' "Hey, Sweep!" You hear Mrs. Pomp greet them. You wave shyly at the cleaning prop.
They say 'sweep' and 'gotta' in a random order, and your mind draws to a blank. You cannot understand this broom at all. You glance at Mrs. Pomp, who was looking at you. She then gets the gesture. "Oh, yeah, we're alright! Thanks for worrying," she replies. "Gotta...sweep, sweep, sweep!" Sweep says, leaving us afterwards. "You never learned to speak Broom?" She asks you, stunned. "I haven't, actually," you mumble in embarrassment.
"Wow." She stands there for a moment before shaking her head. "Sorry about that! I've just never met anyone who's this different from the people I know," she chuckles. "Me neither," you say, mostly to yourself. 'I completely forgot about their side of the spectrum!' You exclaim in your head, 'they must be as confused and stressed about meeting me as I am about meeting them!'
"We should probably get going," Mrs. Pomp interrupts your head for the second time today, "we hang around the Principal's Office every day after school for an hour or two to discuss things." You nod and let her lead the way. There were many twists and turns in the halls, and you had a hard time keeping up with her quick stepping. 'Who would've guessed she can move so quickly,' the noise rang in your ears, 'and loudly?'
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You both arrive at the office. As you walk — and she stomps — in, Baldi, Sweep, and Price look you way. "What took you so long," Mr. Baldi asked, "did you forget about the meeting?" Your face reddened in embarrassment. "No," you responded shakily. "We were talking about my magically curly hair." "Woww!" Mr. Baldi stretched out the 'ow' in 'wow'. We all erupt in laughter.
Prince stops laughing and catches his breath. "So, [Y/N]." You once again flinch at your name being called. "Sir?" You look at him. "I told you, call me Prince. We're all friends here." You nod at him. "What did you need, Prince?" you ask again. He nods his head approvingly. "How was your first day here?" Everyone looks at you.
"Ah, uhm," you speak, "it was great! Took a bit to get used to, though." You can hear silent mumbling coming from everyone, acknowledging your answer. "Mrs. Pomp really helped me get comfortable!" You and Mrs. Pomp share a look of appreciation. She then speaks, "Thanks for assigning [Y/N] to me, Prince! It's a huge relief to have someone like [him/her/them/etc.] teaching alongside me." "Of course!" He responds.
You feel eyes burning through your skull. You glance to see Mr. Baldi looking at you, curiously. When you make eye contact, he speaks up. "You haven't worked in a school before, have you?" You shake your head at him. "I haven't, Mr. Baldi. I guess it looks like I've been missing out!" He gives you a kind smile, but the rest of his face looks a little pensive.
Price notices this, too, and snickers. "Baldi, you look like you've seen a ghost!" Mr. Baldi looks at him, unimpressed. "It's because [Y/N] called you Mr., isn't it?" This earns a nod from the guy. Your face scrunches up in worry. Prince looks at you. "You haven't done anything wrong," he reassures you, "it's just that when people call him Mr. Baldi, he—"
Mr. Baldi fakes a loud cough to interrupt him. "Prince," he began, "I appreciate you explaining, but erm," Mr. Baldi looks at you sheepishly, "just...call me Baldi, alright?" You gave him a slight nod. "Sure, Baldi. Sorry if I disturbed you," you frown. Baldi shakes his hands urgently in front of him. "No, no, of course not!" He paused. "Just a...personal dilemma."
You opened your mouth to question it, but decided against it. "I've heard there are the same pupils in this school every year," you commented, "what's up with that?" Prince put his index finger and thumb on his chin. "Well, nobody really hears about this school. It's not very well-known..— which is why we were thrilled to see your application!"
"Didn't the site say it was popular?" You tip your head to the side. Prince's face drops a bit. "It was popular, when it first opened." He struggles, but keeps his composure. "But, when people first saw us, they were creeped out, so they completely abandoned the area." You feel mixed emotions from his statement. Guilt, sadness, and, most of all, anger.
You ball your fist. "That's horrible. I can't believe people would do that to you." "Well, on the bright side," Baldi spoke, "you're giving us a chance. Maybe your generation will grow to accept us." You give him a sad, but determined look. The staff stay silent for a little while, and you decide to change the subject.
"I bought a little candy jar," you told them, "for the kids." They all perked up. "I'll bring it tomorrow, if that's alright?" Prince beamed. "That sounds lovely, [Y/N]. You're sweet for thinking of them." You hear a series of beeps, presumably from an alarm, and Prince goes to turn it off. "That's it for today," He informed us. "Thanks for coming. See you tomorrow."
We all say our goodbyes. As I go to leave, Prince calls over to me. "Mind helping Baldi tomorrow, [Y/N]?" "Oh, sure," you accept, "I'd like to get to know him better." He nods and dismisses you. You both say your final goodbyes before departing.
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You look out the window. The music flows from your radio like a boat in a river. You ponder to yourself as questions about today flood your mind. Why didn't people give them a chance like I did? Why are the 'same' kids still learning 1st Grade math if they've been there more than once? What's so bad about being called 'Mr.'?
You excuse the last one, it wasn't much of your business anyway.
You pull onto your driveway. You glance at the container of [F/D] you still had in your car from when you first met your new comrades. You pick it up and go inside your one-story home. You make sure the candy jar is right next to the door so you don't forget it. After doing that, you then rinse out the container from your car and fill it with water. It's reusable, anyway.
You take a sip from the [F/D]-tainted water and let loose. You decide to turn on the TV and watch a show you like. You remind yourself that you still have the rest of the day today, since it's only 12:00 PM. Despite your warning, the work you've done today catches up with you, and you take a long nap with your show in the background.
Thank you for reading the Chapter 5 | Missing Out! I hope you're ready for the future events that are in store in New Horizons. See y'all next Saturday ~ ★