The Devil's Hybrid

A wolf in sheep's clothing

“Excuse me, sir.” A student strolled into the class.

“How may I help you?” Dropping his maker on the table, the teacher faced the student.

“I was sent to call Miss Mesel Kalin.” He answered.

Hearing my name, my heart skipped a beat. It feels as if my heart momentarily left my body.

Lip also looks surprised. He, too, has that nervous look on his face, funny how he's acting as if he's the one who was called, and not me.

“Miss Mesel? Who sent you to call her?” He gives the student a suspicious look.

“The principal. She was the one who sent me to get her. “ He says in a very modest and polite voice.

The principal?

The more he spoke, the more elevated my heartbeat got, until it seems the organ is the only audible thing to me.

I can't seem to hear anything else aside from the fast beating of my heart.

“Mesel.”

“Mesel!”

“Mesel!”

The voice started me back to reality. It felt as if a cold bucket of water was emptied on me.

“Yes.” I nervously stood from the chair. My eyes are on the teacher, but it's not focused.

“The principal is calling for you. You're dismissed to go.” He gives me his consent.

“ I'll go with you.” Lip stood from his chair, a determined expression on his face.

Hearing his words made my heart elevate a bit. At least I know someone is willing to follow me through the dark levels of hell.

“Don't worry.” I force a smile. “It's probably a check-up on me. I don't think I'll stay there for long.” Smiling at him in reassurance, I pack my books. “Should I stay there for long, just take my bag with you, okay?”

“You don't want me to escort you there?”

“ It's okay. “ I smile at him. “ You don't have to bother about that. I'll be back before you know it. “ Taking a very deep breath, I walk towards the door.

I can feel the curious stares of my classmates on me, but I pretended not to notice that at all. They can think and speculate all they want, it's just not their damn business. They have no right whatsoever to poke their noses into what doesn't concern them at all.

The male, who came to call me, silently led me towards the principal's office.

“Do you by chance know why am called?” I ask in a hopeful tone.

Who knows, he might be able to tell me exactly why I am being called. Last I checked, there's nothing that can warrant the call from the principal.

“I don't.” He shrugs, “am only but a messenger.”

Nodding at his words, I continue with my walk. The earlier I get there, the faster I get to know the reason being called, and the better it is to calm my racing heart.

“I'll leave you here.” Nodding at me, he turns, heading back to wherever it is he initially came from.

Taking a very deep breath, I open the door to the principal's office.

“Good morning ma.” I nervously greet.

She's currently sitting at her desk reading a book, but at my words, she looks up with a frown.

Seeing that expression on her face made my heart sink deeper into the void.

I might not have had a good friendly relationship with her, but we've not been on bad terms either. As the best student in the school, ordinarily when I meet her, we both part ways with a smile.

Seeing her frown at me made me aware that things might not seem to be what they are.

“Sit down.” She gestures to the chair opposite her.

“Okay, ma.” I dutifully sat on the chair. Sitting as gentle as I can, I force a smile.

“ Mesel, "she heaves a sigh.

“ Yes, ma? “ I nervously ask.

Currently, the thumping beat of my heart realizing the beating of a disco band. I don't think there's any bad that's as loud as this one.

“I've always taken you as the best student. I've always made you an example to others, you know why?” She opens the laptop in front of her. Typing things in it, she turns to face me.

“No Ma.” I swallow a lump.

I don't know why, but I can sense Something like that that that on the way.

“I thought you were the best. I thought you're whom you portray yourself to be, but it's now evident you're not the person you make others believe you are.” She levels me with a look.

“ I don't understand your words' ma.” I nervously laugh.

What does she mean by the words she spoke? I can't think of any character I exhibit that's not my own.

I am always someone who loves showing the originality of things.

“Look at this, can you truthfully tell me what this is?” She turns her laptop towards me. “I want the truth from you.”

Reading through the first line of the essay, it didn't take me long to know what it is.

“That's my essay ma. It's the one I submitted for the scholarship competition.”

Why will she ask questions like this?

“ Your essay? You were the one that wrote this?” She raises a skeptical brow.

“ Yes, ma. I was the one. This took me three weeks to complete, you can check my system for the raw data.” I sit up straighter.

Is this some sort of test before the result is finally spoken?

They want to test the authenticity of my work, this way they'll know a surety I was the one who wrote it.

“You're sure you wrote these yourself? You didn't take it from someone else's?”

“I didn't ma. I wrote it from scratch, there's nothing like taking from someone else's work.

Should I be given another clean sheet, I'll be able to write most if not all the things there.” I confidently said, as I all but thought,” bring it on.”