Adventure Coming of Age

Every moment of every day spent at the School of Unalterable and Chaotic Keepers was the exact same. The halls were all filled to the brim with borderline gray, and similar tones decorating the classrooms. Pine desks, owl quills, and bronze ink containers greeted me every day, for the majority of my life. The scrape of the chairs against the unadorned floors was a sound that I was very familiar with.

I opened the doors to this school about 1620 times in my 9 years at this school, and I closed them the exact same. I memorized each and every word of each and every book, and I familiarized myself with the intricate patterns of the day. The clocks ticking, and the doors opening and closing. I was very well respected by my peers, and even more so by my teachers. At exactly 12:42pm every day, I was greeted by Miss Alora Sanchez, head of the school. We walked through the faded halls, discussing matters I had never heard of until my fourth year.

I remembered each and every conversation, every meticulous movement she made, and any signs she made of discomfort when we spoke. I followed all rules, written and unwritten, and I excelled. Once I proved myself to the world, I was whisked back to the academy. But, instead of becoming a student once again, I became one of the most valued professors this university had ever seen. My students respected me, and I them. They never received anything that was less than needed, and as long as they showed their best, they were shown grace.

Now, though, there was a problem. His name was Meeko D'Genera, and never had I had a student like him. He opened my door about 381 times in one school year, and slammed out of it even more. He vandalized the school, writing crude messages around the halls, and ticking all the teacher's buttons. All except mine, of course.

I kept my normal stature, and maintained my level-headedness for as long as I could. I never yelled at a student, and I never had any problems with an apprentice in my life. And I never did. I would stack my papers, the same as every day, and I kept up with my schedule. Another teacher might have done different, but not me.

No, I was ready at all times to straighten out any wayward scholars, and I never had to. Not even with Meeko. He seemed to understand everything, until one fateful day. I walked into my office to find all of my personal belongings in a box, with a note on my desk. It read:

I am so sorry to announce, but we must let you go. You have been an asset to our team since the moment you stepped foot into this facility, but after 13 years of teaching, you must be replaced. So says by the law, that any man or woman teaching over the desired year must be exchanged, in hopes that they might better society in a different way. Please do not take anything personally, as I know you will not. Thank you for all of your service this many, many years.

-Headmistress Alora Sanchez

Meeko strode into my office as I read my letter, a small well of tears forming in my hazel/brown eyes. He looked at me in a way I knew well: sympathy. He helped me to my car, an old, yellow Ford with a crack in the pane. I set my cane down, and exhaled deeply. I wondered what I was meant to do, and Meeko tapped me on the shoulder. He pointed over to the doors of S.U.C.K., and he walked back in.

He came back out with the Headmistress, and I walked out of the car. We hugged, and she seemed very distraught. She tried to explain how she never wanted me to leave, but she knew I had to. All 22 years that we knew each other seemed to whisk by, and I left. I walked through the door of my Victorian-Era house and sat down on the couch.

I pondered every thought and memory of my past. No signs of teachers being let off, or being fired. So why did that happen to me? I decided to change my attitude, and I did something completely unexpected. I marched into the dark, dusty halls, and all the way down to the office. I pushed open the door, and the administrators were all taken by surprise. It was very unlike me to bombard someone's office, and much less speak to them in the ungrateful manner in which I did.

"I demand to know why exactly I was let go, when no other teacher in my 13 years of being at this school was," I yelled, my voice overpowering my body. I slammed my fist down on the desk, and heard only a whimper answer back.

"B-because of t-the law. I-it clearly s-states that you m-must only s-serve one job for a s-set amount of time," the secretary muttered. She was clearly frightened of my distasteful manner, but she had to deal with it.

I rained down with fury at the answer, not receiving any new kind of information. Storming out of the office, the Headmistress shortly followed after me.

"Alaric! Alaric Monpellier! You stop right this second!" she said, tugging at my shirt as she caught up with me. She told me everything, and nothing all at the same time. I continued my march out of the school, but not until I saw his face.

"Ah, greetings Professor. It is very nice to meet you. I am Governor D'Genera, and I presume that you have met my son. I take it that you are upset, but let me explain. It is a new law that was instituted only two weeks ago," he said. He seemed to know everything, but never revealed it. I shook my head and walked away, ignoring him everywhere I went.

But he showed up, everywhere I went. In my dreams and nightmares, at the market and even in the pub. I couldn't get him out of my mind. That was until, I found the remedy. I rid myself of him, and that whole town. I packed my bags by myself, a 43-year-old man with dementia, but this was normal in my town.

I took a bus, and said goodbye to the town, the school, and my home. I never looked back, and I spent the rest of my merry days in a city about 500 miles away. I never saw any trace of my hometown, only a familiar face that showed up in the newspapers. He was a Mr. Meeko D'Genera, and he was the new governor of where I came from. He was a changed man, one who went from a vandal to one of the most model citizens a person could be. I only hoped that I could do the same.

It's true, though. Your past does catch up with you. And all of my troubles caught up with me, in the most unexpected ways. My life was, truly, an unprecedented event.

November 08, 2023 02:50

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Ty Warmbrodt
08:31 Nov 08, 2023

You achieved and maintained a unique voice throughout the story. Very good writing. Very good take on the prompt. I couldn't think of anything :(


A.B. Writer
22:45 Dec 20, 2023

Thanks Ty. I wanted to make the story a little fun for anyone who noticed the school name as well. The school he worked at had an acronym: S.U.C.K. Catch that?


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