Rotting Apple
"I'm in detention again. The same old room...the same old chair...alone again !" These words ran in Apple's mind as she scribbled on her old drawing book. Her hands swirled and turned as she drew lines and hoops and shapes that would slowly contour a human's face - a boy's face.
"Ms. Crossin !" A stout woman shouted as she slammed her books on the teacher's desk. Apple lifted her head to look at the woman who seemed delirious to the idea of being with her. Apple gulped trying to damp her dry throat as she clearly knew who she was talking to.
"Yes, Ms. Dalit. Nice seeing you again." Apple politely greeted as she gave a half smile stretching her skin around her chapped lips.
"You seem rather fond of detention. What are you aiming for? Detention Queen ?" Ms. Dalit scoffed. "May I remind you, it is Halloween...I should be out and about enjoying the evening with werewolves and goblins who are single and not married and not supporting their kids due to a bad divorce...." The woman continued on. Her voice slowly became softer until there was nothingness. For Apple, she was used to this kind of treatment. She was used to removing her inner being from a situation she finds terribly boring.
"There you go ! Back to Limbo - I suppose !" Ms. Dalit remarked as she raised her eyebrow looking at the clueless Apple who somehow woke up from her absentmindedness.
"I'm sorry." Apple apologized as she bowed her head once more. Ms. Dalit gave a deep sigh as she turned her back to grab something from her satchel. She then approached Apple who looked scared.
"Here, have an apple on me. You must be hungry." Ms. Dalit placed the apple on the writing arm of the armchair as she gave a small smile at the teenager who also smiled back at her.
"An apple for Apple." Apple stated as she held on the fruit. "My father -" , she paused. No words came out form her mouth as flashes of memories hurriedly disturbed her.
"It's okay. Let's make a deal. I will let you off the hook for now. After all, it's Halloween. We can say, the witches need to prep their brooms. Shall we?" Ms. Dalit swayed her body, flapped the extra skin under her arms and waltzed like a jumbo balloon. The middle-aged woman continued on with her fantasy. She grabbed her satchel and with a huge pivot, she looked at Apple and gave a wink. Soon after she left the room.
"Why should I go home?" Apple asked herself as she stared at the red apple on her hand.
