“Alright, you little brats, sit down.” Mr. Simons says from the front of the room, actually expecting someone to listen. I was already sitting down, with a book laid out on the desk. It was arguably one of my favorite books, with magic, action, and the best part: cats. 

Mr. Simons slams his fist on his desk, and I jump, losing my page. I’m slightly agitated that I lost my page, but I’m more concerned with why he slammed his fist into such a sturdy wooden desk. Like, come on man, you’re just begging for a broken hand.

“I said, sit down!” He yells, scanning the room with the glare of a gargoyle. I honestly hate to make eye contact with him, because I know that he’ll keep his glare on me as long as it takes to get me to look away.

I tend to get really bad anxiety when he does this. It just makes my skin crawl whenever he looks at me, or anyone else really. He . . . he just has a really creepy glare. I’ll be generous and put it that way.

He turns on his computer as the class settles, turning on the projector and putting a slideshow on. I just hope that today’s an easy day. Please let this be an easy day.

The slideshow in general is a mix of random stuff about OSHA. I really don’t care about it, so for most of class I’m doodling or reading. My normal strategy for this period. Class ends in what feels like a few minutes, and I grab my things and head out quickly, hoping not to be seen.

Of course, I’ll have to come back at the end of the day for detention. I got caught skipping class yesterday, but I don’t plan on being caught today.

“Yo! Tracy!” I hear Amber call out from near the bathrooms. “I got the key to the concession stand!” She squeals, trying her best to remain quiet and happy. 

“How’d you get that?” I ask with a smirk on my face.

“I stole it from one of the gym teachers. He’ll never know it’s missing!” She says, unlocking the door to the stand and going inside, pulling me along behind her. “If we stay here long enough, they might think we got dismissed and we won’t have to do after-school detention!”

I scoff. “Really? You know Simons is gonna hunt us down, even if it means going through the cameras. He’ll find us soon enough.”

Tracy rolls her eyes and grabs her cigarette. “Whatever. It’s just an hour, anyway. I’m sure we’ll be fine for that long.” She lights it, drawing in a long breath and breathing out the smoke in small bursts. 

“Sure, Amber. He’s gonna make us do more work if we get caught.” I say as she hands me a cigarette.

Hours later, we’re still chatting in the concession stands. Surprisingly, no one has caught us, even with all the smoke we’re emitting. I figured that at least one of the Earth Club members would have broken down the door by now, but we’re still alive and breathing, so there’s that.

The final bell rang almost twenty minutes ago, but no one’s even bothered to come in here yet. I haven’t even heard anyone pass the room. Wait.

“Amber, don’t you think it’s a little weird that no one’s even come near here?” I ask as I take a bite from a Twix bar.

“Huh? Naw. Maybe we’re just high from all the cig smoke.” She giggles and waves her hand. “I like the high.”

I didn’t expect that response from her, I’ll admit that. “Seriously, I haven’t even heard chatter.”

“What does it matter, Trace? I think we’re fine.” She slurs, giggling again and laying on the floor.

I groan, standing up and stretching. My bum is numb, and I hope that it’s just from sitting on the floor for so long, and not actually from how high I am. “Well, I gotta pee. I’m leaving.”

“Aww, Trace! Don’t leave me here by myself.” I turn back around, only to see that the door has already closed behind me. 

Once again, I was not expecting that. She’s likely mad that I’m actually leaving and not peeing in the drain. I refuse to sink to that level of gross.

After I finish, I open up the door to the restroom, peeking out before making a quiet beeline back to the stand. I know that I’ve gotta start heading home soon, or Mum will know that I’m actually skipping. That’s a conversation I don’t want to have while potentially high and still reeking of cigarette smoke.

I reach for the door handle, but something pulls me back. I fall to the floor, slamming my head against the cold tile floor. “Amber! What the heck?” I say, rubbing my head as I sit up. I feel a hand clamp over my mouth as I’m pulled back. I struggle, but the hands holding me are far too strong.

Something heavy slams against my head, and my world goes black.

I wake up in what looks to be the detention room. I’ve got a killer headache, and my vision keeps going blurry. “You know, Tracy, I was really hoping that you would change. But the other part of me likes you the way you are.” I hear from behind me, and I try to turn around, but I’m bound to a wooden chair.

“Who are you?” I demand, shaking way harder than I’d like to.

“I’m a creature of legend, Tracy. I’m meant to get rid of sinful children like yourself,and your little friend. She was rather delicious, I will say.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I’m a demon, Tracy. Just like the ones you read in your little books. I get rid of naughty children, so that their parents won’t have to deal with them. It’s a good business, I will say. Pays a lot better than this dump. Your parents paid me good money to get rid of you, Tracy.”

“They wouldn’t.” The words sink in after I say them. Yeah, my parents would love to get rid of me.

“They would, and I intend on feeding on your negative energy as if it were an elegant feast.” They pause, stepping into the light. It’s . . . it’s Mr. Simons. “Oh wait, you never had remorse for any of the things you did. Or sympathy, for that matter. Which would make this event . . . a feast.”