The Shattered Bones

By: Taylor Mazzatenta

Today is the kind of day you wish you could just sleep forever and get away with it. The school day was dreary and boring. We walked to our classes and fell asleep in each of them- But not in language arts class.

Becca and I walked into language arts class in a slightly better mood than any other day, because our teacher, Mrs. Ramsey, was absent. That means we have a sub today. I hope she isn’t a control freak with anger problems like our last substitute.

As soon as we walked into the room, we took our seats. I noticed that it was unusually silent. That is weird. Fourth period never stops talking, even when Mrs. Ramsey is in the room. The teacher was clearly standing in the front of the room, but I didn’t understand why everyone wasn’t talking. Fourth period usually doesn’t care whether a teacher is in the room or not. Then I scrutinized her more carefully.

Three things happened in that moment: the sub walked into the room with an evil glint in her eye; I noticed a scar on her hand that drew a line up her arm; and I realized that the shape of her scar meant that she was that serial killer I had heard about on the news earlier that morning. I about jumped out my seat to bolt out of the room, but I realized if I did that she would probably guess that I knew her secret.

 I started panting really fast and heavy, and the palms of my hands held a puddle of sweat. I wiped the sleeve across the side of my face and connected my hands to the bottom of my chair to stop the shivers from crawling down my spine. I was so scared that everything in my line of sight started to get blurry. I zoned in on the hands on the clock and started counting the seconds until I was able to dash home. I wanted to tell as many people as I could, so that the sub, Ester, would not start killing people automatically.

It was the last period of the day, so I only had to wait thirty more minutes until I could leave. Or I could ask to go to the bathroom and just ditch out the back door when she wasn’t looking. Becca, who was sitting next to me, saw that I was panicking ecstatically. I motioned my hands and arms in different ways to show her what to do.