Board Thread:Writer's Workshop/@comment-26466555-20150607220808

 I had been a history teacher most of my life. I had spent 45 years in the workforce to be exact. That long time had given me a tolerance to occurrences that others might have given a second look to. “Kids will be kids,” was what I would think to myself when they would act out, say something rude, or do something incredibly stupid. I had never had an incident that fazed me. In March of the year that I planned to retire, however, that changed.

 It was the tenth of March, I was taking roll and everyone seemed to be here. “Angelica,” I called, “Here,” she said back. This happened with every student over and over again. Everyone was here on that particular day, which was a rare thing for my classes. “Ok children, today we will be learning about the Civil War,” groans came from every side of the room. I could faintly hear one squeal of excitement in the front. “Of course,” I thought in my head. It was Bryce, my favorite and the brightest student in our town.

 We began with the study on how slavery was brought into America. I remember this perfectly because the “Cool Kids” of the school kept making snarky remarks throughout the lesson. There was Chad, the football jock, Dana, the cheerleader, Brenda, the “tough” girl, and Zack, the most popular kid in school. I know I shouldn’t say this about kids but I hated this group. They were rude, loud, and just plain obnoxious.

 After class I called them all up to the front after everyone else left. I handed them all pink slips that in all black letters read “DETENTION.” They all went to their next class and I had my break period, which was the last period of the day. I ate a ham sandwich that my wife had made for me that morning. I took out my phone and went to call her. We talked for a bit about my day and hers. When our conversation was over I hung up and put my phone away.

 Right at that moment the bell rang. “It’s time to go home,” I thought. I walked out of my classroom into a sea of children. Trying not to step on their feet I walked slowly to my car. I checked my pockets to make sure I wasn’t robbed by those little thugs and guess what, my phone was missing.

 I walked back to my classroom to see if I had left it and it was sitting right on my desk. “How forgetful,” I said aloud, I was usually not that careless. I went to walk back to my car through the empty building when I heard a yell. It was very loud and it seemed close by. I looked around and saw that it was coming from my classroom. “But I just came from there,” I thought.

 I walked in and the sight I saw was horrific. The yells came from Bryce. He was on the floor in the center of a glowing red pentagram. Around him stood four hooded figures chanting louder than I had believed to be humanly possible. I saw a glimpse of their faces and knew exactly who they were. Chad, Dana, Brenda, and Zack.

 “What is the meaning of this,” I shouted. I couldn’t even hear myself yell due to how loud their chants were. Bryce was now bleeding from his eyes and ears. I ran to tackle one of them but they didn’t move. I took Zach’s hood off and his face was grey, cold, and his eyes were red when they used to be blue. I tried everything I could to stop them but their chants grew louder and louder. Bryce wasn’t moving anymore. I fell to the ground and that’s all I remember before I passed out.

 I woke up in a small jail cell. “What’s going on,” I asked the officer that was there. “You killed a little boy sicko that’s what’s going on,” he replied. “What,” I suddenly remembered the night before, “No! It wasn’t me, it was those kids.” He looked at me with disgust, “Of course it was.”

 Now I want anyone who reads this to know that I’m innocent. I DID NOT DO THIS. I didn’t kill Bryce or anyone else. Please believe me.

 ***

 The lead detective turned the lights back on. “These were the last words he wrote before he died with blood coming out of his eyes and mouth,” she said, “these are thought to be self-inflicted. So, without further ado I declare this case officially closed.” The file was put into the box labeled B. It was put onto the storage shelf and was never seen again.  