The Day Started With...

The day started with a multitude of chattering voices. The voices clanged around the room, bouncing off ancient models of the brain, squeaking through stacks of papers, cracking against glass window panes. Aydar rubbed the bridge of his nose where his glasses seemed to be pressing into his head and rapped his knuckles on the table. The students turned towards the sharp noise and fell silent. Aydar continued his lesson in the silence; however, an occasional glance around the room told him enough. Chins sinking into the palms of their hands, eyes glazed over, the occasional nod. No one actually cared about the functions of the frontal lobe, they were far too preoccupied by Mr. Evans’ death.

Aydar was used to a little disinterest, after all, psychology wasn’t everyone’s cup of tea, but today’s absolute lack of focus struck a nerve. He felt a the pang of loneliness that he had been ignoring for far too long. It was completely illogical to be jealous of a dead man, yet the idea of everyone knowing your name and mourning your death was still alluring. The past few months had been unexpectedly difficult for Aydar, since he’d failed to make any friends after his move to The Foxberry. Aydar had anticipated the start of the school year ever since he’d received the email from Ms. Miller, the principal of Columbia Public High School announcing his employment. After growing up in New York City, a quiet, quaint, and quintessentially American town had sounded like paradise. Suffice to say, The Foxberry was not what Aydar had expected. The building seemed to be coated in a permanent layer of grime and the town itself appeared decrepit on good days and haunted on its worst.

As the school bell echoed through the halls and the students leapt out of their seats, Aydar grabbed the stack of essays waiting expectantly on his desk and trudged out behind the students. 

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