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Description
The empty classroom still had traces of laughter spilling out of hand drawn pictures stapled to the walls and haphazardly made crafts lined up side-by-side on the shelves. Miniature desks were arranged in neat rows and columns, 4x5, with forgotten books and pencils still sitting in cubbies, growing old as they waited for children that would never come back to pick them up. Chalk lay, broken and half-used, in a small dish on top of a neat desk. A plaque bearing the teacher's name, Mrs. Pendle, gathered dust along with a rotten apple that might have once been shined red and a cup filled with fat pencils sharpened to a point.

Of all the places I'd been, this was the single place that The Disaster was most evident in. It was surprising how collapsed, deteriorating buildings could not compare to this dusty, empty classroom. Children should have filled these desks, talking idly and laughing together while Mrs. Pendle wrote the ABC's on the blackboard.

I picked up a nametag from a nearby desk; the manilla folder that it was made of was sloppily colored with crayons of various shades. It bore the name 'Kylee' in big letter with backwards E's. The image of the childish handwriting brought back memories I thought I would never remember.

"Stacey!"

I looked up guiltily, but tried to hide it with a wide, fake smile. Today was the first day of kindergarten and, after only five minutes, I was already bored with the overly decorated, brightly colored, simply organized classroom. The windows were covered with messy paper projects and big, cheesy posters, making it almost entirely impossible to see the trees, grass, and playground just outside. But I didn't need the sun right now; I was perfectly content with the tiny garden snake that was trying to escape from the prison I had made with my fingers. I think my fatal flaw was my evident happiness with the secret in my hands…which brought me back to the teacher calling my name.

"What are you doing, Stacey?" Mrs. Parker's smile was forced, and her voice was cross.

I cupped my hands tightly together, smiling as the garden snake tickled my palms, "I'm just looking for my pencil, Mrs. Parker!" The words slipped out easily. Too easily. Now I had to produce a pencil-even though I had no extra hands.
And Mrs. Parker was waiting.

With some careful rearranging, I grabbed a pencil and pointedly placed it on my desk, "There!"

Mrs. Parker was barely satisfied, "Now pay attention…" She turned her back on me and started writing on the board.

I smiled to myself and ducked my head to look at the garden snake, only to find that it was gone.

It was then that Samantha Lorie jumped up onto her desk and screamed bloody murder, "SNAKE!"

And, sure enough, my garden snake was coiled around the bottom of the desk leg.
"Oh! I'll get it!" I stood up quickly, getting ready to dive for it.

"Don't touch it!" Mrs. Parker grabbed my hand, but I struggled away-my poor snake!

"Stacey!" screamed Samantha Lorie

"Stacey!" scolded Mrs. Parker.

"Stacey!" "Stacey!" "Stacey!"

~~

The memory faded quickly when I heard my name in the present, and I blinked back to reality.

"Stacey! We have to go! What are you doing?" said Terence.

"Oh! Nothing. Just…" I looked down at the nametag one last time and set it back down, "Nothing."

"Come on, it's raining again." Terence poked his head into the classroom, glancing around sadly. He tipped his head at me, signalling for us to go. Now.

Outside, acid rain hit the ground with a hissing vengence, destroying everything it hit. The sidewalk was reduced to rubble, and it crunched as I walked. Scattered across the ground and the streets were boulder-sized pieces of stone that had fallen from nearby buildings as constant rainfall ate away its foundation. I took in the wreckage passively; after 3 years, it was the only way I could look at it.

"Did you find it?" I asked as we both pulled up the resilient hoods on our raincoats to protect us against the vile rain.

"No," he shook his head.

"Where next?" We got into the grey car that waited for us. The paint on the car was the only thing that had been eroded…so far.

"The rec. center. Maybe we can find the papers there."

"Yeah. Before it's too late." I looked mournfully at the dark, cloudy sky above.

Description
The empty classroom still had traces of laughter spilling out of hand drawn pictures stapled to the walls and haphazardly made crafts lined up side-by-side on the shelves. Miniature desks were arranged in neat rows and columns, 4x5, with forgotten books and pencils still sitting in cubbies, growing old as they waited for children that would never come back to pick them up. Chalk lay, broken and half-used, in a small dish on top of a neat desk. A plaque bearing the teacher's name, Mrs. Pendle, gathered dust along with a rotten apple that might have once been shined red and a cup filled with fat pencils sharpened to a point.

Of all the places I'd been, this was the single place that The Disaster was most evident in. It was surprising how collapsed, deteriorating buildings could not compare to this dusty, empty classroom. Children should have filled these desks, talking idly and laughing together while Mrs. Pendle wrote the ABC's on the blackboard.

I picked up a nametag from a nearby desk; the manilla folder that it was made of was sloppily colored with crayons of various shades. It bore the name 'Kylee' in big letter with backwards E's. The image of the childish handwriting brought back memories I thought I would never remember.

"Stacey!"

I looked up guiltily, but tried to hide it with a wide, fake smile. Today was the first day of kindergarten and, after only five minutes, I was already bored with the overly decorated, brightly colored, simply organized classroom. The windows were covered with messy paper projects and big, cheesy posters, making it almost entirely impossible to see the trees, grass, and playground just outside. But I didn't need the sun right now; I was perfectly content with the tiny garden snake that was trying to escape from the prison I had made with my fingers. I think my fatal flaw was my evident happiness with the secret in my hands…which brought me back to the teacher calling my name.

"What are you doing, Stacey?" Mrs. Parker's smile was forced, and her voice was cross.

I cupped my hands tightly together, smiling as the garden snake tickled my palms, "I'm just looking for my pencil, Mrs. Parker!" The words slipped out easily. Too easily. Now I had to produce a pencil-even though I had no extra hands.
And Mrs. Parker was waiting.

With some careful rearranging, I grabbed a pencil and pointedly placed it on my desk, "There!"

Mrs. Parker was barely satisfied, "Now pay attention…" She turned her back on me and started writing on the board.

I smiled to myself and ducked my head to look at the garden snake, only to find that it was gone.

It was then that Samantha Lorie jumped up onto her desk and screamed bloody murder, "SNAKE!"

And, sure enough, my garden snake was coiled around the bottom of the desk leg.
"Oh! I'll get it!" I stood up quickly, getting ready to dive for it.

"Don't touch it!" Mrs. Parker grabbed my hand, but I struggled away-my poor snake!

"Stacey!" screamed Samantha Lorie

"Stacey!" scolded Mrs. Parker.

"Stacey!" "Stacey!" "Stacey!"

~~

The memory faded quickly when I heard my name in the present, and I blinked back to reality.

"Stacey! We have to go! What are you doing?" said Terence.

"Oh! Nothing. Just…" I looked down at the nametag one last time and set it back down, "Nothing."

"Come on, it's raining again." Terence poked his head into the classroom, glancing around sadly. He tipped his head at me, signalling for us to go. Now.

Outside, acid rain hit the ground with a hissing vengence, destroying everything it hit. The sidewalk was reduced to rubble, and it crunched as I walked. Scattered across the ground and the streets were boulder-sized pieces of stone that had fallen from nearby buildings as constant rainfall ate away its foundation. I took in the wreckage passively; after 3 years, it was the only way I could look at it.

"Did you find it?" I asked as we both pulled up the resilient hoods on our raincoats to protect us against the vile rain.

"No," he shook his head.

"Where next?" We got into the grey car that waited for us. The paint on the car was the only thing that had been eroded…so far.

"The rec. center. Maybe we can find the papers there."

"Yeah. Before it's too late." I looked mournfully at the dark, cloudy sky above.