Teachable Moment

In one week, it'd be the last semester of my last year of school. My parents were adamant that I go to a local college or trade school, but I really wanted to go abroad. I didn't have anyone to talk to about my worries, and even though it was a pretty minor form of isolation, it made me feel hollow inside.
During spring break, nobody was at school, and so I wanted to obtain a mystical object using an Internet ritual, something I'd never tried before. Specifically, I wanted to obtain the Holder of School.
There are numbers at my school where we sit during physical education period. I sat on the number 50 and closed my eyes tight. At first, I thought I could power through the waiting period. But as the hours passed, I began almost falling asleep.
I started pinching myself and rubbing my face, trying not to open my eyes. When that didn't work, I started scratching at myself to stay awake. I scratched through the skin on my arms, and I winced, starting to wonder if this was a stupid idea.
Then I heard something growl behind me. I could either believe it was an actual threat or that it was part of the ritual. I chose to hope it was the latter, but as the growling grew closer, I crouched in fear anyways.
The growling stopped, and I heard something immensely big stomp towards me, making a noise really similar to a truck. It circled around me, and as it did, I heard children bouncing balls and chatting, terrifying beasts howling my name into the sky, and a ringing noise like an extended school bell. I allowed myself to grin; this ritual did work.
But my grin faded as I heard somebody crying.
Once all of the other sounds faded away, I opened my eyes and saw the person who controlled the ritual, sitting next to me. If not for her red shoes, I wouldn't have recognized her. She looked about my age, with thick black hair, brown skin, and bright yellow irises. She was wearing long brown pants and a light blue shirt with a light-bulb on it saying "Reading is lit."
When the girl noticed me staring, she looked straight at me, and I quickly asked the first question I could think of.
"Why is it suddenly daytime?"
It looked to be about noon, but I couldn't see the sun in the sky, or any shadows whatever.
She smiled. "It's always daytime here. Few people notice, because they don't usually come here during the night."
"Really?"
"I think they might have been afraid of falling asleep. And they were right! Look at your arms!"
My arms were still bleeding, and it hurt to move them. I laughed uncomfortably. "I should have thought this through more. But on the other hand, I no longer feel sleepy."
"Yes. You can't give the right answers if you're sleepy. That's a constant among all people, which is why I never forget to stop people from being sleepy. I forget to give them food at times, but their alimentary needs are more variable, right?"
I pondered this for a second. "I guess so. Some people might feel the need to eat three meals a day, while others may want to eat two."
She giggled, "Some people eat five meals. Do you know why they do that?"
"I read somewhere that five small meals a day is actually better for losing weight."
"That makes sense. Some people do it because they feel more comfortable eating like 'breakfast, recess, lunch, after-school snack, dinner'." She counted the meals on her fingers.
"I really wouldn't have guessed that." I stood up reflexively, then sat back down. "Sorry. I'm not used to sitting in one place and talking."
"It's okay." She stood up. "We can both walk."
I started walking around the school. "I want to go to school abroad, but my parents want me to stay close to them."
She followed me. "Maybe they don't have enough money to send you far away."
I stopped. "I thought you were supposed to agree with me on this."
She looked away and scratched the back of her head. "Are you sure?"
I took out my phone and started navigating to the ritual's instructions. I jumped when she put her chin on my shoulder.
"What are you doing?" I squeaked.
"I'm reading! I don't know what people write about me."
"I don't feel like that's very good etiquette," I muttered as the page loaded. "It violates privacy."
"Did you know," she whispered with a gleam in her eye, "that a lot of the Internet violates privacy as well?"
I didn't answer, choosing to scroll down the page. She poked the phone screen, which made me zoom in instead of scrolling down.
"Hey!"
"See what it says!" She cackled like a hyena. "It doesn't say I'll agree with you!"
I read the zoomed-in text. "She will have prescient advice. Hm, I guess I was wrong."
"It's very big of you to admit that. Maybe you should admit that you can travel abroad once you're finished with school."
I eyed her suspiciously. "Why should I listen to you about this? It doesn't say you'll have prescient advice about everything, just school-related topics."
She shrugged. "You don't have to listen to me."
"You know what? I'll take your advice," I proclaimed, continuing towards my old classroom.
"Why do you want to travel abroad anyways?" she asked.
"I want to learn and grow as a person. And," I admitted, "my parents often pretend to encourage me to take risks, but every time I do that, they force me down a path they like better. I don't want to be trapped in that mindset."
"Perhaps your parents have more life experience."
"Yeah. That's probably why."
We walked around the school for a while until I stopped in front of a classroom window. It was the first class I had ever taken, and I felt a bit nostalgic.
"Do you want to go in?" the girl asked. "We can start with the ritual."
"Really? I thought I would have had to say more."
"Nah." She waved her hand in the air. "I think that you deserve the object. Unless you want to talk more, I'm fine with just starting."
I thought about this for around thirty seconds before I started worrying that I was boring her. "I'm sorry for taking so long to think."
"No, it's okay. Take your time."
Her words emboldened me. "The text I used to follow this ritual said there were good and bad topics to talk about, and I want to ask something which might be bad."
"If I don't want to talk about it, I just won't. Fire away."
"Do you know all of the things in the books already?"
"Of course! The point is that you, the person performing the ritual, will learn those things with my unwavering patience and firm guidance."
"That makes sense, I guess. What doesn't make sense, at least to me, is why you cry at the beginning of the ritual."
I waited for her answer, but she didn't give any. She frowned at me pointedly.
"I assume you don't want to answer that question."
"Correct," she grinned. "I don't, so don't ask it again."
"Why would I do that?"
"You'd be surprised how stupid people become when they really want an answer to a question."
I nodded, trying to think of something else to talk about. "Is time frozen right now?"
"Nope. This is a pocket out of normal space and time, where the world is always sunny and the only two beings here are me and the - you. Me and you."
I must have looked inquisitive, because she asked, "Do you want to ask what I was going to say? You can, if you're interested."
"I'd have thought most people would be interested."
"Most people are concerned with rushing through the ritual as fast as possible. They don't really want to talk to me. They just want to get out of here."
I exhaled sharply. "That sounds really harsh."
"Kind of." She smiled with her mouth, but not her eyes. "I take it you want to know about the beast?"
"Definitely."
"There's a beast here which can't attack you unless you see it. It's scared of me, because I can kill it, but it's really good at hiding."
"That's weird. The ritual didn't mention that." I reread the ritual's opening lines. "It mentions 'hearing a large beast', and also 'trucks and other equipment'. I thought those were just because I was going to be transported through time or something."
"Yeah, I'm pretty sure the equipment is just, like, an artifact of going into the time pocket. But the truck noises are definitely the beast."
"Is the beast important to the ritual?"
"No, but it's afraid of me, so I can't kill it on my own because it constantly hides from me."
"Why hasn't someone helped you kill it?"
"Some people have, but it comes back at the beginning of every school year."
"Can I help you kill it?"
"Would you?" She smiled widely. "That would be awesome!"
I was to sit in the farthest building from the physical education numbers with my eyes closed. Meanwhile, the girl would hide somewhere on the path to them. Once I was between the beast and the numbers, I would run towards them, opening my eyes in order to lure it after me. As it chased me, the girl would jump out of hiding and kill it, but it would kill me first if I didn't run fast enough.
"Even when I come out," she warned, "you have to keep running."
As I sat in front of the building, I wondered whether I would ever feel this important again. I could only hope so.
I could barely hear the beast's footsteps as it approached me. It was between me and the numbers, so I had to wait for it to get to the other side.
As it neared, I heard its heavy breathing and its soft tread. Thick gobs of some liquid were dripping to the ground rhythmically. I felt one land on my head. I shivered, but I didn't dare move.
When every single footfall was on the other side, I jumped up and raced towards the numbers. Opening my eyes, I saw the globs of liquid were red. As the beast roared behind me, I ran faster, but from the sound of its huge thumping footfalls, it was gaining on me.
I ran in double-time, then in quadruple-time, but it was getting harder to run, and the beast kept gaining on me. As I fell to the ground, completely winded, I heard the beast fall too.
Panting and clutching my sides, I stood up and turned around. The beast looked like a giant hairy pill with eight straight legs, and it was shuddering on its side as the girl kicked it in the stomach. Its eyes were as large as my fist, but were tiny compared to its huge nostrils and mouth. It bellowed in pain, and then fell silent. It collapsed slightly, and its eyes lost focus.
The girl kicked it one final time, then put her shoe back on. She gave me a thumbs-up and ran towards me.
"Thanks! What do you want to do now?"
"What is there to do?"
"Well, anything can happen. Now that I know the beast can't attack anyone, I feel comfortable going away from the school. You know this town's layout. Is there anywhere you want to go?"
We ate frozen yogurt together.
"This was a really good decision," I declared, and she nodded in agreement.
I waited for a while, rolling a question around in my mind until it tumbled from my mouth.
"Can I stay here with you?"
She looked at me, and I could tell the answer was No. Instead, she asked, "Why?"
"I could help you."
"You can go back home, wait for the next school year, and then return here to slay the beast."
"Can't I help with anything else?"
"Look at the ritual. Is there?"
I read the ritual silently. I had already diverted significantly from it, but that didn't change anything.
"Could I help bring the books?"
"You can't."
"Could I help bring food-"
"Nope."
I couldn't think of any other jobs. "Could I just stay here anyways?" I asked, my voice getting softer until I was whispering.
The girl put her head in her hands. "That's the same question you just asked," she growled. "Tell me why you want to stay here."
"I feel more comfortable here than I've felt anywhere else," I admitted. "I feel like we're..." I had to breathe deeply to continue the sentence. "...like we're friends."
"I think you're a nice person," she replied coolly. "But you may have been fooled by my exterior form."
Her face shrunk until she looked like a black five-year-old. "I will never truly age or grow," she said in a child's voice. "I am a mentally static being who helps people improve themselves."
"I just don't know if I'll find anyone like you at my college!" I exclaimed.
"On the contrary." She turned into a shriveled white girl with one eye. "You will find people just like me in any college - better, in fact, because they can age alongside you."
"I feel like we're such good friends!" I shrieked.
She looked at me, locking her eyes with mine. "We have known each other for about an hour."
"I feel like I've known you forever!"
"Well, I don't even know your name."
I opened my mouth, but she was right. I hadn't told her my name. "My name is Zubaida. My parents are from Afghanistan. But I get it."
"I'm sorry," she sighed, returning to the form I'd met her in.
"Did you enjoy talking to me?"
"Yes, definitely!" she beamed. "I think real people would enjoy talking to you too."
"Thanks for the vote of confidence."
We ate our yogurt in silence. When I was done licking the last remnants of it, I stood up.
"Can I stay here to travel?"
"How so?"
"As you visit different schools, I can stand in the background and look at them."
She shrugged. "I think that's okay, as long as you don't plan on staying here forever."
"Thanks."
At first, I was fascinated as the buildings of my school warped and shifted into other buildings. I wandered the empty halls and surrounding towns. But even as the landmarks changed, as the signs were written in different languages, they didn't remedy the hollow feeling inside me.
"Maybe being here with people would feel more satisfying," I pondered aloud while completely unimpressed by the Eiffel Tower. Then I dismissed the thought. "I never talked to people in my own town. Why would it be different here?"
I trudged back to the school and waited for the ritual to end. The girl was white now, with brown hair, and she was speaking in French to a older man dressed in robes. He was confident in the problems now. Even without knowing French, I could tell they were joking around.
She handed him the diploma (Object 1787) and, just like everyone else, he vanished without a trace. Then she turned to me, and her smile became even wider. "How have you been, Zubaida?"
"I feel like I've had enough traveling for my entire life," I muttered.
"You might change your opinion eventually."
I barked out a laugh. "Do you exist to contradict me?"
She laughed too, a clear sound. Then she became serious. "The beast's returned."
"Has it been an entire school year?" I hadn't thought that time would pass normally. I started hyperventilating. "Can you send me back to spring break?"
"What else would I do?"
"Oh!" I snorted. "I was worried for a second."
She outlined the plan. The beast was going to circle the person initiating the ritual. I would stare at it, from one of the hallways, and once it followed me, I would run until the girl killed it again.
At first, it seemed to be going perfectly. The beast abandoned the boy who was initiating the ritual and chased me instead. I ran quickly, and it sounded like I was gaining ground. But then the boy's shout alerted me to what had really happened.
The boy initiating the ritual had opened his eyes, and now the beast was chasing him instead. He was frozen, and I knew he couldn't get away in time. I barrelled to the beast and slammed into it, yelling, "Send me back!"
The beast turned around and clamped down on my arm. I screamed at the pain, worse than any I had felt before. My vision blurred and became constricted to a single point of light, and then a brighter darkness.
I woke up in my school, where I had been sitting before.
"It was probably just a dream," I guffawed before I looked at my intact, albeit scratched-up, arm. Where the beast had bitten me, I had a black line, and on my wrist, I had a bracelet that I was sure hadn't been there before.
There were two charms on it, both wave-shaped. One said, "I fought The Beast and lived to tell the tale!" The other said, "I almost tamed The Beast, but I wiped out at the end!" They were perfect charms to have gotten at a water park, if I had ever gone to one.
Smiling, I went back home. Tomorrow, I'd tell my parents I wanted to work with them. Even though a college in Germany accepted me, I went to a local trade school, learning to be a mechanic, and got a job which allowed me to work with people who shared my interests. I convinced my parents they could trust me by working with them, and one day, I woke up and felt distinctly complete.
I've went back to that pocket dimension on the last day of every summer break since. Honestly, it felt more like a chore every passing year. But after I slew the beast last summer, the girl, who looked exactly the same as when I first met her, asked, "Do you really want to do this anymore?"
I'm not returning this summer, or any summer after that. But I'll always remember that girl's help, and I'll always treasure the bracelet, with its jangling charms. When I feel down, I'll look at it and remember how far I've come from that summer.
Category:Stories