I didn’t sleep last night because I drank coffe.I spent the whole night staring at the ceiling,trying to make friends with the shadows,thinking,remembering,laughing or looking for reasons to weep.
Today,I’m a little unwell.My head is spinning heavily.It feels like I have on my shoulder an ancient ruined pyramid that endured a war.But still, I have to get through 3 important lessons at the university.
Well,it seemed that the morning coffe spraddled some energy into my body,but I wonder how long will it last?!
….crawling to the “teaching building”!
The first class I have is french.It’s quite difficult,but the coffe is doing its best and I can give some decent answers now and then.The teacher is in good mood,it really helps.
In the corridor,I’m walking unsteadily but I’m trying to get myself safe to Literature.Today the teacher will speak about Gothic Novels.”Sounds interesting!”While he is calling the register,I rest my head on the desk.Some of the girls are laughing.Their voices rise a revolution inside my brain,but never mind,the lesson begins.The prof wrote something on the blackboard.All of a sudden the chalk he holds in his hand starts to grin, showing its sharp teeth.I shake my head in desbelief,thinking that my mind took on the wrong side,but…no,it is still grinning at me.I’m looking at the teacher.I used to say that he has no grace,but today he is horribly handsome.His skin that was always red,like after shaving,now is pale.His brown eyes shifted into a red color and as I see he doesn’t spit anymore when he talks.I couldn’t hear what he was speaking about but I read on his lips”Dracula”by Bram Staker.
The grinning chalk drew a coffin on the blackboard.The words that were written above looked horrified.The pale teacher hang them all above the coffin and now the letters were praying for help and struggling as if in the grip of death.The teacher erased the helpless words with a sponge and put it on the table.The sponge was spotted with blood.I felt my flash creep.
I looked again at the blackboard.There was a moving picture on it-a girl that was smoking.Her cigarette was full with big C .She was inhaling this Cs avidly and exhaling ticking clocks.It was funny the way she did it,even entertaining.When she almost finished smoking her bittersweet cigarette,the criminal chalk drew again a coffin.The girl looked disperately at me.She suddenly became an old wrinkled thing and collapsed in the bed of death.The sponge erase the grave from the blackboard with a sigh.
I rememberd about the teacher in the moment he fixed me ironicly and pointed at me. Then I knew,It was my turn to be on the blackboard.I felt a strong desire to run,to evaporate myself from that damned room,but I couldn’t move.His eyes absorbed all my energy.The emptyness imprisoned me.It was a strange feeling-not surprising-I supposed,since everything felt strange now.Unconfortable.The smell of chalk dust hit me unexpectedly.I heard the whole class giggling and making fun of my hair and my shirt and my shoes.They hit me with small pieces of paper.I couldn’t protect myself.My arms were dead things lying somewhere at my side.The chalk showed me its sharp teath,mockingly.He drew again a coffin.This time he drew it under my feet.I couldn’t move but at least I could screem.It seemed the only possible way to get rid of this mortifying pain.So,I screamed.My helpless cry aroused the storm.It felt like raining.”Oh,Londone wether”said I to myself,remembering what I studied lately about England’s climate.The thunder struk me and I woke up with a start.
Oh,God!!!…it was not the thunder or “London’s weather”.It was my teacher who was yelling like a pshyco that I don’t respect him and that he will not let me come to his lessons anymore.
I took his punishment as a blessing.Now I know what am I to do!
