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MY BLOG: Every day for a year.
Day 163 ‘ Short Story Tales-Part one.’
The following is fictional. Any resemblance to any persons living or dead is entirely, absolutely, probably coincidental.
Rinty noticeably flinched, as the heavy leather-bound textbook crashed down upon her desk. The old- style timber table creaked and groaned in protest, as its fellow tool of learning seemed to explode on impact. Abruptly ejected from her conversation, Rinty locked eyes with the livid face behind the book. A sallow angular face with scowl lines etched deeply into the skin, loomed over her like death itself. “How many times must we do this?” seethed Ms. Deven, each word accompanied by cracking slaps from the abused pages. Teacher’s fury was always simmering just below the surface, a warning to all to dance lightly upon eggshells or face the terrible consequences. Ms. Deven wore her formidable presence like a badge of honour, any perceived resistance quickly smothered by her mania.
Shocked and red-faced, Rinty stared helplessly into the face of hate, unable to formulate a response. Watching her teacher’s lips move in contorted furious righteousness, the flurry of insults became a rush of white noise, crushing Rinty into humiliated pieces. “Well!” her teacher shrieked, “what do you have to say for yourself?” Rinty slowly turned to her companion, who had remained quiet during the barrage. “What do I do?” “You know,'” her companion calmly replied. Rinty placed the palms of her hands flat on the desk in front of her and pushed herself upright. Caught between fear and the resentment of being publicly shamed, Rinty took a deep breath and answered in what she felt was a fair and appropriate manner. “You’re a bully Miss.” An audible gasp moved around the room, as her classmates lowered their heads and braced for impact. Completely caught off guard at this act of defiance, Ms. Deven’s rampage hung in mid-air as if suspended. Like the eye of the storm, everything became momentarily eerily still, as the tantrum reset itself to maximum dominance. Rinty felt a tug on her jumper and glanced downwards at her companion. “We need to move.” Heeding the warning, Rinty hastily stepped backward as the desk became a casualty of Deven’s temper. “Get out! Get out of my classroom and report to the principal’s office now!” Hurriedly scooping up the scattered and broken pieces of belongings from the floor, Rinty felt more relief than punishment at being banished to the principal’s wastelands. Leaving the icy gaze of Deven’s death stare, Rinty shrank against the cold winter winds as she dragged herself slowly towards the office. Turning to her companion, Rinty remarked, “You didn’t have to come with me. I can handle this on my own.” Bru studied Rinty for a moment, then laughed. “We both know that isn’t true. You’re a soft pile of cow dung, and he’s going to walk all over your weak spine if I’m not there.” With a heavy sigh of resignation, Rinty replied quietly. “I hate you.” Bru smiled with indulgence as she put her arm around Rinty’s shoulders. “Yeah, sometimes you do, but you’d miss me if I weren’t here, you know you would.” Pausing at the bottom of the steep staircase, Rinty hesitated at the sight of the large oak door. A door, that was never to be knocked upon unless the business was vital and urgent. I am neither vital nor urgent, Rinty thought to herself. “Oh, come on already,” Bru prompted, as she gave Rinty a good shove in the back. “I’m going to enjoy this.” “Then, you go!” Rinty snapped. “I’m not like you, I want some peace, and to be left alone.” “But you’re not alone, are you,” Bru whispered back wickedly. “I’m here to look after you as I have always done, now move it.” Despite the tentative steps upon the stairs, each movement clanged loudly inside Rinty’s head. Surely even the dead would be alerted by now, so she waited outside the door with the expectation it would just magically open. Tapping her foot in irritation, Bru screwed up her face in exasperation. “Your mousey ways are incredibly disappointing to me Rinty. Here, let me do it.” Brushing the hapless Rinty aside, Bru landed both of her fists on the stoic timber, confidently announcing their arrival to authority’s den. The door moaned with all the charm and grace of a vampire’s tomb as it inched open just a crack. “You may enter,” bellowed the voice from beyond. “Still want to go in alone?” Bru smugly offered. Rinty squinted into the dark beyond the door, then anxiously looked back at Bru. “No.” “Good,” Bru excitedly replied. “Then let’s get to it!” ……(to be continued :-))
Thanks for listening.