A Weirdsville story.
I forgot to turn in my history assignment. I hurried down the hallway, praying that Mr. Bishop hadn’t left for the day. I was relieved when I spotted a dim light through the shades on the window in the door.
“Mr. Bishop!” I burst into the room holding up my worksheet. “I forgot to give this to you in class!” Mr. Bishop froze. He was kneeling beside a large pentagram in the middle of the room. All of the desks were pushed against the walls and there were candles at each point of the star. Only three had been lit. I crossed the room and held out my homework. “It’s not too late to turn it in, right?” I demanded anxiously. Mr. Bishop blinked.
“Uh, no. I’ll still take it.” He reached out and accepted the paper. I sighed in relief.
“Thanks, Mr. Bishop. Sorry about the trouble.” I adjusted my backpack. “See you tomorrow.” I turned around and started to leave.
“Wait! Melody,” I was confused to hear a note of desperation in his voice. I looked back at him, and he looked scared.
“Yeah?” I said. He gestured weakly.
“About this…” I looked around and back at him blankly.
“What about it?” I asked. His jaw dropped.
“You don’t think this is weird?” He asked incredulously.
“Of course, it’s weird.” I laughed. “But the whole town is weird. This is nothing too crazy. Probably a séance, right? You talk about George Washington like he’s still alive.” I checked the clock on the wall and winced. “Sorry, Mr. Bishop. I have to get home. I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?” I hurried out of the room with a wave. Weird that Mr. Bishop thought he had to explain himself. It’s not like it’s the strangest thing in town, not by a long shot.
I forgot to turn in my history assignment. I hurried down the hallway, praying that Mr. Bishop hadn’t left for the day. I was relieved when I spotted a dim light through the shades on the window in the door.
“Mr. Bishop!” I burst into the room holding up my worksheet. “I forgot to give this to you in class!” Mr. Bishop froze. He was kneeling beside a large pentagram in the middle of the room. All of the desks were pushed against the walls and there were candles at each point of the star. Only three had been lit. I crossed the room and held out my homework. “It’s not too late to turn it in, right?” I demanded anxiously. Mr. Bishop blinked.
“Uh, no. I’ll still take it.” He reached out and accepted the paper. I sighed in relief.
“Thanks, Mr. Bishop. Sorry about the trouble.” I adjusted my backpack. “See you tomorrow.” I turned around and started to leave.
“Wait! Melody,” I was confused to hear a note of desperation in his voice. I looked back at him, and he looked scared.
“Yeah?” I said. He gestured weakly.
“About this…” I looked around and back at him blankly.
“What about it?” I asked. His jaw dropped.
“You don’t think this is weird?” He asked incredulously.
“Of course, it’s weird.” I laughed. “But the whole town is weird. This is nothing too crazy. Probably a séance, right? You talk about George Washington like he’s still alive.” I checked the clock on the wall and winced. “Sorry, Mr. Bishop. I have to get home. I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?” I hurried out of the room with a wave. Weird that Mr. Bishop thought he had to explain himself. It’s not like it’s the strangest thing in town, not by a long shot.
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