Feb 17 • General discussion
Rules For The Teacher of Class Room 17
The school bell rang, and all the kids from classroom 17 grabbed their bookbags and hurried for the door.
The teacher's voice pierced through the commotion, “James, not so fast. I’d like you to stay after class so I can speak with you.” James' heart sank, despair overtaking his eyes. he looked at his teacher, hand tensely gripping the strap of the backpack hanging from his shoulder. “ME?” He asked in a peep, almost a whisper, that scarcely escaped his lips. His soul inches from leaving his body. “Yes, you, take a seat, and I'll be with you shortly after I grade these papers.”
His backpack crept down from his shoulder, the tight grip loosening as it gradually made its way to the floor next to him. His hands found the chair before his eyes did. The shock wouldn’t allow him to pull his eyes from his teacher; why him? Why not another student? What did he do? Or fail to do? He sat reluctantly, feeling his legs getting weak and shaking. He began to sweat nervously. A knot formed in the pit of his stomach. Ms. Jennings was a new teacher at the school and had only been in this class for a month. In that time, two kids stayed after class, and after that, they were never seen again; their parents seemed to forget they ever existed. No one asked questions, no posters or pictures on milk cartons. The only ones that seemed to remember were the other kids who remained in the class. Even the kids from the other classes didn't remember the ones that went missing. After the second child vanished, the other kids in the classroom started to question why no one seemed to remember them, and they noted that the last time anyone saw either of them was when Ms. Jennings had asked them stay after class. So all the kids agreed to try not to disrupt the lessons or do anything to get into trouble out of fear of having to stay after class and risk going missing too. Now James was in the very situation he and all the others feared and tried desperately to avoid.
Time ticked by slowly; the clock's second hand stopped for what seemed like half a minute between each tick. Almost as if it took pleasure in his dread. Maliciously causing his inevitable demise to drag out. As if this inanimate object held the key to his freedom, but prefered taunting him and adding to his misfortune.
James glanced anxiously between the teacher and the clock, and occasionally out the window facing the parking lot. James saw what he feared: his school bus was leaving without him. He thought this would be a good reason Ms. Jennings would let him leave. “Ms Jenn..” Before he could even get her name out, he was halted, “James,” Ms. Jennings said sternly, with that sharp tone of authority. “Not a word. If you’d like to get home, you’ll keep quiet like a good little boy,” he frowned, sank further into his seat, and waited. Looking back to the clock’s tauntingly slow clicks. It seemed like an eternity passed when, in a moment, James had his attention stolen by the sound of a car door shutting. It was the principle. The last car in the parking lot was about to leave. It would be just him and the teacher alone very soon. Whatever sliver of hope James might have had just melted away right then and there with the sound of that car door. Raising his head in the direction of his instructor, about to attempt to ask a question, she turned sternly and abruptly put her finger to her lips. Staring straight into his eyes. All James could think about was how he had to escape.
Ms. Jennings was moving strangely in her seat and seemed uncomfortable. She grabbed a piece of paper and started to write. She got up with the piece of paper in hand and quietly walked over to where James was seated and slid it on top of his desk. It read “I’m going to the ladies room, DO NOT MOVE FROM YOUR SEAT. DO NOT MAKE ANY NOISE, OR I'LL KNOW.” he looked up at her and nodded in agreement. She quietly walked out of the room. He listened intently for a few moments before rapidly looking around the room for a way to escape. He looked to the window and quietly made his way over to it. Gripping the edges of the window, he tried to lift it with no luck. Looking at the top of the lower portion of the window, he can see that someone nailed it shut. Tears formed in his eyes. He walked over to the teacher’s desk to see what she had been working on. He sees the pile of worksheets she was supposedly grading. They were just as the kids left them, no red marks, no evidence of grading at all. “What has she been doing all this time?” he thought to himself. His eyes scanned the desk until they landed on what she was actually working on. It was… a list? Titled: Rules the new teacher must follow. The list was written in different colored ink and in different handwriting. He recognised his old teachers hand writting for a couple of the rules.
Soft foot steps broke his attention away. Quietly, he rushed back to his seat. Making it just in time. Ms. Jennings opened the door and gave James a curious look. She walked back to her desk and began to scan the list again.
Ms. Jennings grabbed another piece of paper and began to write, copying something written on the list. She quietly walked over to James, putting her finger to her lips sternly, she placed the paper on his desk and pointed at what was written, “When you hear someone knock 3 times, close your eyes and count to 20. I’ll knock once on my desk at the twentieth second. The door will knock twice after that. After the final knock, you can open your eyes. If you don’t hear me knock on the twentieth second, I’M SORRY. RUN”.
The knock began right after Ms. Jennings returned to her seat. James closed his eyes and sank his head into his arms on the top of the desk, and began to count. 1,2, his heart raced 18, 19, His heart ached from adrenaline, 20… Knock!…. relief flooded over him. 2 more knocks erupted in response. He feared opening his eyes, but a whisper directly in his ear said, “Open your eyes now.” his heart skipped a beat, his eyes shot open, and his head tensed up, turning quickly to see who spoke to him. But no one was there. Ms. Jennings noticed this and gave him an odd look.
As she turned back to her work. James saw movement from the window, something was forming in the glass, he turned to look and turned white right before a feeling of relief washed over him. It was two of his classmates. They put their hand over their mouth, indicating to him to keep quiet. Gesturing that they came back to help him. James was filled with hope and relief and almost cried. He might just survive after-all. Ms. Jennings looked up curiously. She wrote on another piece of paper, and this time walked over to James quickly with the paper and a pencil. The paper read, “Did you hear the bell ring?” James was confused by what it reading. She forced the pencil in his hand with a concerned look on her face. Indicating she wanted him to answer in writing. “No,” he wrote. Her brow furrowed as she read it. She walked to the class closet and opened the door. As she rummaged through the contents of the closet. James looked back to the window. The two boys were prying it open slowly, wedging the window up. James’ heart jumped with excitement and anticipation. They got the window up halfway without making a sound, and then *squeak* the window made a sharp noise catching Ms. Jennings’ attention, she reappeared from the closet holding a blanket with a frightened but curious look on her face. She didn’t know exactly what to make of what she was seeing at first, but then a sudden realization hit her. She watched James rise to his feet, knocking the desk to the side, ignoring his backpack, he made a run for his friends at the open window. His classmates beckoned him with their hands to hurry up. Ms. Jennings dropped the blankets as she sprinted towards James to stop him. But he was too quick. James made it to his freedom that was the window, and leaped through it with all his might. Ms. Jennings’ arm shot forward to grab him, but was met by the solid brick wall. The window was gone, and all she heard was a single boy’s screams followed by otherworldly laughter. She fell to her knees and cried. Crawling back to the blanket, she covered herself and wept quietly as footsteps began walking all around her for 13 seconds before everything went deathly silent. She counted to 10 in her head as she cried. Then she uncovered herself, wiping her tears and snot away with her sweater sleeve. She walked over to her desk, grabbed the list, and wrote “after the knocking, if you don’t hear the bell at the 10-minute mark, watch for a window that will appear on the brick wall where there was no window before. Entities appearing as classmates will appear and try to open it and beckon the kid to go with them. Give them headphones and tell them to close their eyes until the 10 min mark. Lie on the floor with them and cover with the blanket until the walking sounds stop. Count 13 seconds, get up, shut the lights off, and go home. You survived the evening.
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Rules For The Teacher of Class Room 17
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