"It's often said that students will make any excuse in order to not do their homework.
However, even in the face of almost certain death-
Every one of those inexhaustible reasons would have been thrown out of the window."
A cafe table. A crocodilian girl. A failing student.
The sunlight hit her face softly, sliding off of her scaly head before hitting her fleshy form, bending off of that to touch the floor soundlessly. It would have made a beautiful art piece, should the context not have been known. And even still, a certain minority of people would have found the morbid story more attractive.
To catch you up, I was, in all actuality, a failure in academia. I always tried to improve myself with school work, but because of those efforts were going nowhere. And so, I never found any solace in the results. I had too many other responsibilities to take care of, such as my little sister, work, the usual excuses that people threw out, but I really meant it. It was tiring. So when I got a text from the school's class president, I was more than worried about what was going to happen to me and, by proxy, to my sister.
I didn't want to talk to her.
I didn't want to meet with her.
I didn't want to remember.
I didn't.
I didn't. I didn't. I didn't. I didn't. I didn't. I didn't. I didn't. I didn't. I didn't. I didn't. I didn't. I didn't. I didn't.
I didn't, but I agreed to meet her at a cafe in regard to my own safety. I don't know if I could have called it a smile, but she had a certain warmth on her face, like she would do nothing to hurt me if I just followed what she said. When I came in, I saw her place her hands on her backside to smooth out her ruffled skirt before sitting down gently, crossing her stocking-clad legs. Every move of her seemed calculated, dainty, almost spirit-like, almost as if her body was hiding her true nature. It gave me a slight moment to collect myself before I sat down. Though, for some reason, I think she knew I was here.
In this world, it was an undeniable fact that there were people born with certain physical traits that gave them an edge over others. It only meant that those who were born with them, because of the extremely low number, were treated like some form of royalty. Royalty. Certain traits. Animalistic. They can range from something as simple as your hands resembling monkey paws, to your head belonging to a Salt-Water Crocodile. Having said that, anywhere they were placed, they usually got what they wanted, whatever it may be at the moment. Were people scared of them? Enough to never say no? Did they feel some obligation to do it due to religious reasons, possibly? The answer never came to me, and I didn't think of myself as smart enough to start guessing out of nowhere like some pseudo-philosopher.
If I had to describe her, she would suck up to anyone, the very definition of a teacher's pet. And if that didn't work, it meant hurting others in order to improve her standing even more, and she she, was more than willing to do that. Again, I didn't know why, and I didn't particularly care to ask her. Not after last year.
As soon as the thought reached my mind, an image flashes into my head. Screaming, running, biting. She tore her arm clean off, the one that decided to fight back against her. It made me want to throw up. It made me want to scream. Not only that, but it made me want to rebel as well, and I hated my self for it. My depressing thoughts were only interrupted by a slight tapping on the table from her.
"So, what's up, virgin?"
Virgin? V-i-r-g-i-n? "Huh?"
"I mean, ogling my oh-so-innocent body, eh? Prime virginity behavior~" She fingered a small lemon cake that was seemingly delivered in front of her before I got here, tossing it into her mouth. Speaking through a mouth full of the pastry, she queried, "So, you're saying you have trouble at home? Really? You think you're the only one who has that problem?" She spoke bluntly. I was astonished. Swallowing, she continued; "And did you think to speak to a counselor at all about these 'problems'? Really, I don't have too much time to be coming out here just to speak to you. I actually have things to do." I could smell her breath from here, a small hint of mint mixed with the overpowering smell of sweet lemon. It made my nose crinkle.
Of course I did, you bitch. Obviously, it didn't fucking help. My mind flashed to reactions I thought teachers would have have if they heard her speaking to me like this, but none of them seemed in my favor, and if they were, they didn't have the courage to do anything, not to a dog such as her. Her motives were lost on me. She was an utter alien. Our waitress came over, I noticed she had the eyes of a jumping spider, allowing four more to grow adjacent to her primary eyes on either side. It wasn't exactly nice to look at, but they had a certain beauty around them. She set a cup of coffee I had ordered in front of me and smiled at the crocodilian girl sitting next to me. What I thought was a friendly gesture, turned out to be the exact opposite, because she took my drink and slid it over to the girl without my consent. She gave a quick smile and eight winks to the crocodilian girl before turning and leaving. My coffee was sipped softly with that crocodilian snout.
"I tried, of course," I say in a meek voice as she leans closer to me in order to hear me, a rather rude gesture, "But they told me the same as usual, gave me general tips I could have seen anywhere. I'm not motivated, and I'm not sure what to do about it. I have things to take care of at home, I don't have enough time for all of this… stuff." I bit my tongue while she stared at me with her blank, wet eyes.
A moment of silence.
She opened her snout.
Her teeth gleamed in the sunlight, some caked in left over bits of her lemon cake. The new scent of coffee mixed with her breath.
And—
And she laughed. It filled the small room we were in, causing others to look in our direction, though they quickly turned away upon seeing who was causing the commotion. It started off as a small chuckle, a snort, and then a full barrage of sound. One that made my nose tingle and my eyes burn.
"I mean, seriously. How fucking boring! You could at least try to make something more interesting than that shitty excuse." She stopped laughing suddenly, and leaned forward again, her eyes drilling into my skull. "I apologize, it's time for me to start actually acting like a supervisor. As you know, I was tasked with the job of improving our school's grades as best as I could, and offering a… productive environment in our school."
She had a serious air around her now, one that I couldn't penetrate. I muttered, "And what does this have to do with me?" She noticed this easily, capitalizing on my insecurity. "To put it bluntly, you're dragging everyone down. How do you think that makes me look?"
And why should I care?
"I'm sorry, I'll try better." I looked down at my hands, fidgeting them together. It was now where I heard the edge in her voice, the demeanor of which she talked to me was something so hard it could have cut the air itself.
"Yes, you will. And if not—" She stopped suddenly, but I knew what she implied. Everyone who has ever laid eyes on her did.
The teachers didn't care, maybe they were scared too.
She commanded everyone.
She shut down any rebellion in a sea of gore and cries.
Her teeth gleamed, and I stood up.
I said my goodbyes to her, wiping my face of any tears trying to escape my eyes. For now, I had homework to do.