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No Silence Please...
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Mrs. Lane Anderson’s 11th-grade classroom had been her second home for forty years. She’d seen good days and bad, wrangling hormonally unpredictable teenagers. The driven, studious kids aiming for college often became targets of those who pushed boundaries, lacking the same motivation. Handling these dynamics came with the territory.
That night, Mrs. Anderson went to bed hoping for a peaceful sleep—she needed to be in the right headspace for the Algebra test she’d prepared for her often-thankless adolescents.
She drifted into a deep sleep almost instantly. In her dream, she was back in her classroom, facing three former students who should have graduated by now: Patrick, Andrea, and Sean.
“Alright, Patrick, Andrea, Sean—who can tell me how to construct a truth table?” She didn’t know why she’d asked it; it was a random math question, but this was a dream, after all.
The students only stared back at her with an unnerving, blank gaze. Math could be tricky, sure, but the silence felt strange. Their expressions held a deep stillness, almost as if they didn’t see her at all.
“Anyone?” Mrs. Anderson asked, her voice faltering. Still, no answer—just those stares. She woke up abruptly, unnerved. Shrugging it off, she got up, showered, and prepared for the long day ahead.
The day of the Algebra test, the students were restless, and the classroom felt stifling. She tried to ignore her lingering unease. She had to push through; if her students wanted to graduate, they’d have to suffer through this mentally exhausting test.
“Silence, please!” she ordered.
It had been a taxing day. Drained, she collapsed on her sofa at home, too tired to cook. She questioned her career choice—teaching often felt so thankless. Soon, she was asleep again, slipping back into a familiar nightmare.
Once more, she was in her classroom. Patrick, Andrea, and Sean were seated before her.
“Who can tell me where the element mercury is found?” she asked, her voice echoing in the eerie stillness. They stared back, but this time, their eyes were different—deeper, accusatory, laced with something almost vengeful. Mrs. Anderson shivered. Maybe they were here to punish her for failing them when they’d deserved it. These three had been the biggest bullies in their grade, the unruliest of students. Detentions meant nothing to them, but their popularity had made them untouchable.
But now, they were silent, their eyes fixated on her with an intensity that felt otherworldly. Mrs. Anderson turned to write on the board, but when she turned back, she found them standing ominously close to her desk. Frozen in place, her body refused to move. She watched in horror as they marched back to their seats in eerie unison, their eyes never leaving her.
Then, as if slumping into sleep, each of their heads dropped forward. To Mrs. Anderson’s shock, blood began to pool around their desks, slowly spreading across the floor. She jolted awake.
At 6 a.m., Mrs. Anderson shot up, shivering uncontrollably. She’d overslept and couldn’t even remember falling asleep. Only when she glanced at her clock did she realize it was Saturday—not Friday. Yet, she felt an urgent pull to go to her classroom. The nightmares were getting worse.
By 11 a.m., she found herself at the empty school. The building was as silent as a tomb, but she felt compelled to sit in her cold, eerie classroom, staring at each desk. Her thoughts were interrupted when Margaret, one of her former students, entered.
“Why did you call me here, Lane?” Margaret asked.
“Listen, I’ve kept this secret buried for years. But they’re haunting me in my nightmares, every single night.” Mrs. Anderson’s voice was barely a whisper.
Margaret stood casually, her hands behind her back, but her gaze was fixed and serious. “They were supposed to graduate with me two years ago, but they chose a different path.” She looked down, her expression darkening. “Patrick… he humiliated me after prom. Posted things all over social media. I thought he loved me. He told me he did, that prom was going to be our special night.”
Margaret’s voice broke, and she began to sob.
“After that night, he ghosted me. I thought he was going to apologize, but he told me we were ‘too young to commit,’ and that it ‘was for the best.’ Then I saw him in the courtyard, laughing with Sean, like my pain was some kind of malicious game. Andrea even threatened to ‘beat my skull in’ if I so much as looked at him again.” Her voice hardened. “I spent the rest of junior year and all of senior year being slut-shamed by them. They made my life hell. What did I do wrong except love Patrick?”
Mrs. Anderson reached out a hand, her face pained. “I know what they put you through, dear. They were the most unruly students I’ve ever had. There were days I wished…” She trailed off, casting a meaningful look at Margaret before reaching into her desk drawer and pulling out a few newspaper clippings.
"Three 17-Year-Old Students at Myers High School Bludgeoned to Death. Unknown Assailant. Parents Plead for Answers."
“These kids had plenty of enemies,” Mrs. Anderson whispered, waving the printouts. “Taking care of them later threw off any suspicion. Who would ever suspect an honors student and her teacher? But now… they’re haunting me. I don’t know what to do.”
Margaret slowly brought her arms from behind her back, revealing a tire iron—the very weapon used to end Patrick, Andrea, and Sean’s lives.
“Just don’t say a word to the police,” Margaret said coldly. “I wouldn’t want you sharing the same fate as them.”
Mrs. Anderson’s eyes flickered with unease but softened as she looked at her niece. She understood the threat but also the unbreakable bond they shared. Her voice barely a whisper, she replied, “You’re my niece. You know I’ve always got your back.”
--- Fictional Story Written By Zainab Ali ---
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