I received a letter yesterday. I didn't open it right away because it was from one of the schools I had applied to. My name is Stephanie Lancaster and I USED to be a teacher. I didn't like my job, well who am I kidding I loved it but luck didn't play in my favor. My husband Rick was a gambler, and eventually, bet all of our vacation money, which was ridiculous because we didn't have much of that. Then he lost his job, I broke up with him... blah blah blah. I am going to spare you all the details. The point is that before that, I applied to some schools and now I am in front of this envelop and I have no idea what to do.
Because I am of curious nature, (I have always loved this word) I open it and here is what it says:
Dear Stephanie Lancaster,
The school of Sudden Death wants to congratulate you. You are now a part of our staff. You will be as it's written in your recommendation the teacher of 8th grade. To this is attached the link to your schedule. Classes start at 8 am and finish at 3 pm. If you could please contact the head of the school, Miss Lecter for further information and to schedule an appointment to see a little bit the school.
Welcome to the school,
-The school of Sudden Death
Yes, I know the name is weird but I applied to all the schools possible and only this one responded. Anyways, I am so happy I can finally teach again. I sat at my office chair and started to write a letter to Miss Lecter, the principal saying that I am so happy and that I would be glad to set up an appointment with her. Surprisingly, she responded within the minute. She wrote that we could meet up right now if I wanted to.
I grabbed my coat and hurried outside. Miss Lancaster sent to me the location of the school. It was 10 minutes from here so I chose to walk there. I arrived in front of what seemed to me like a mix of prison and church. I have never seen anything more creepy in my entire life. I enter using the squeaking entrance door. I never thought a school could be as terrifying as this one, the lighting was minimal and the walls could use a fresh layer of paint. At each new step, I could hear the floor creaking. A shadow passes by me or at least I thought it was one before I could feel a cold object against my skin. It wasn't a shadow...
Author Notes: I hope you liked it!!!
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United States • 18 years old