[I can't escape] Mr.Borger's class [This hell!]

[Sarah]

[By the way, you happen to stumble upon this, feel free to post!]

'First day on the job. Breathe, Anthony, breathe.' The rather shaky teacher told himself.

Wasn't he about to make quite the impression? The Social Studies teacher, late to his own class? Not right now, at least. He glared at the clock to remind himself that he had five minutes until a class of testosterone-high teenage boys invaded his current state of quiet constant worry. His silent realm of anxiety. Honestly though, what would they think of him? Anthony wasn't the person to have this severe of jitters. Normally also, Anthony wasn't a person to think bad of the deceased, but couldn't help himself now. Stupid Grandma. Had to die the night before semester started. Made him fly back to Illinois. Wear the black tie, cry his eyes out. Worse than that, it set him 2 weeks into the teaching period. Great. Today, his first day back, was already going perfectly.

Up two hours before classes to prepare. Dressed, got a cup of cocoa to spill down the crotch of his dress pants. Grumbling, he simply changed out of his stained underwear and pants. Dashed over to his class, looked over the notes the stand-in left. Nothing beyond what he expected. Just, now, he had to meet the boys himself.

If only he could have the substitute just teach for him, and hand over the pay check each time. No, he was kidding himself there. He would die without teaching, even if someone paid him not to teach. A love of teaching, something people often thought to be lie.

Nimble fingers now drummed on a mahogany desk. Behind him on the board, written in the most readable script he had was, 'Mr. A E Borger'. He had fought with himself on what to write. He wanted to be someone his pupils could relate to, not some bland Mister or Sir. But, he also knew he had to maintain some respect, so putting 'Anthony Borger' was out. But, finally, he settled.

Papers were sprawled out on the desk top in front of him, being glanced down at occasionally, but he could only concentrate on one thing for so long. Lines of dialog ran through his head. 'Hello class, I'm Mr.Borger. I hope you can come and excuse me for my absence, I had a funeral to attend.' Then, he'd smile slightly, and steal a quick glance at his notes, glide into the lesson. He wouldn't elaborate much on himself. Sounded easy. But, since when did anything go as planned? He could only hope.

Taking a swift sip of the sixth cup of hot chocolate this morning, he glanced again. He nearly choked on the drink. A minute? Only a matter of seconds until those boys flooded him in havoc?

Couldn't another family member die, right now?

Get him out of this classroom.

[Miss Murder]

A rather out of place looking boy wondered the hallways. His hair was black, messy and he still lacked a school uniform. With each step he took down the tiled hallway the more paranoid he felt. So, he began to try to skip over the cracks in between the titles. It was sort of weird to see a fifteen year old kid half skipping down the corridor, but what could he say?

His palms were sweaty and his eyes still a visible red. He had been crying, but it was only natural to cry at the death of a pet. Just as he thought about it he stopped his awkward stance to pull a soft tissue out of his pocket and blow his nose. The sound was loud in such a quiet area, and it seemed to echo down and around the nookys and crannys of the building.

He was walking down the hallway, why? He had already seen the principal... That was when he burst out in tears in front of him and fled away. The principal kindly calling out to him, and offered him a day off... However, that wouldn't stop him from collecting the large amount of work he had missed those two months. Nope. Since he had tonight off he could get some of it done. After wiping his nose several times with different corners of the used tissue he pulled out a plastic bag and jammed it in with other old tissues. Okay, so he was a bit... A bit of a freak? However, who would want some fresh germs growing in their pocket? Nobody.

It was when he began hopping down the hallway again that he realized he had passed a classroom. After carefully back tracking, he shaped his palm into a weak fist and knocked on the door. Should he enter? The welding hold he had on the knot in his throat tightening.. He wanted to burst out crying again. He was homesick, he was in a strange place, and his pet had just died. Tearing up slightly he brought up his elbow to quickly wipe his eyes. He didn't want anyone to know he was crying. If they asked why his eyes were red he'd say he didn't get enough sleep. He didn't want them to think he was a pussy, but he wanted comfort. He wanted his mother, his father, and even his two little sisters.

((he's knocking on Anthony's door xDD))

[Sarah]

Anthony let out a sigh as he heard the timid knock on the door. No! He still had a couple seconds...class hadnt started yet. Surely there was a que of boys lined up for their class by now. Oh.. oh god. Anthony sighed, running a hand swiftly through his hair, and stood to open the door. Pausing with his hand on the door knob, he took his hand off, and straightened out his appearance. What kind of teacher was he? Nervous on his first day of teaching? Well, some may come to say this was normal, but not for Anthony. With a bit of a breath, he opened the door wide.

A small smile was painted artfully on to his features as to hide his true anxiety, and he peered out into the hall, expecting a flock of twenty or so boys, to find only one. His smile faltered. One boy? Not... not twenty? And, most certainly not twenty million, what he had feared the night before. But, no, it was much more than just a boy. No, a boy who looked troubled, hurt. Carefully, he brought the smile back to his lips.

"Hello," He greeted warmly, looking down at the younger boy. He looked like a first year, Anthony imagined. Much smaller than the rest of his students. But, hey, this smaller boy was the first of his students he was yet to meet. "Anything I can help with?" He asked, careful to not sound shaky or judgemental, though he was wondering what was wrong with the boy. But, it wasnt like he was about to insist that the boy poured his heart out. They didnt know each other, yet.

Yet. It was a finicky word. Anthony had no idea how well he would come to know this boy at all.

[Miss Murder]

Christian was rather surprised as the door knob moved then didn't - then finally when the door swung open.. The teacher had a rather fake smile painted on his face as he glanced at Christian and then at the hallway behind him. It was pretty obvious that he had been expecting the usual herd of students. "I," he began but his throat choked up. Clearing it softly he continued, "Can I come in? I need the work I missed... Er, see I'm a new transfer here. So if there is any work that I need to do I came to get it... Um, also I'll be missing class today because," that was when his eyes began itchy. He felt water building up in them.

Yet again he brought up his elbow and wiped it across his eyes quick. He glanced around the teacher quick to see if there were any tissues in his room. He could feel the snot in his nose building up, and it would be kind of gross if it just started running. Focusing on controlling his emotions he waited for the teachers reply. Instead of thinking about other things he began to look the man over.

He was actually a rather attractive man. He had long legs, which in Chrissy's case was a disadvantage since he was too tall for the short boy. He had a pair of black spectacles which made him look smart, and sort of like his own father. Something about the man sent him into comfort mood... Was it the fact that he had a sheepish look? He gave of the same vibe as Christian almost, and if felt like they were on the same wave length. He wanted to ball his eyes out right there, in front of a stranger! It was an odd feeling, but he timidly thought it over.

The feeling of homesickness wasn't as strong. Why? Taking another peek around the professor he saw a globe on one of the tables. So, he was a history teacher? It was fitting for a man his type. What was this man's type anyway? Could Christian really see types? Not likely. He couldn't even define himself!

He looked back up at the teacher with big eyes.

[Sarah]

A pair of green eyes blinked behind the rectangular glasses as he heard the boy's request. Well... okay. A bit odd, he'd admit. But, as Christian explained, it hit him. So, he hadnt been the only one to miss school either. So, he really was making a first real impression on this boy. Now, he smiled a little more truly, stepping back into the class, allowing Christian inside. "Certainly," He allowed. He nodded as Chris explained, and dark brows furrowed as he awaited the ending to Chris' explanation.

But, he didnt persist when he saw the boy wipe his eyes. He frowned slightly, and walked over to his desk, snatching up the kleenex box and bringing it back with him to the boy. He had not the faintest idea of what was wrong. But, it was in his nature to comfort, if possible.

"Have you been out of school since we began?" Anthony asked, careful with all wording. He was going to make a damn good first impression on someone today. Again, he walked over to his desk to scan over the notes the substitute left. "I havent been here either." He added, seeing as it seemed proper to do so. He glanced up again, smiling slightly. "And, I'm Mr.Borger." He added.

[Miss Murder]

Christian accepted the man's courtesy to give him the tissues and quickly grabbed a few to blow his nose. He then carefully walked over to the trash can to toss out the tissues and decided it was time to get rid of germ-o plastic bag. He pulled it out of pocket and then let it fall into the trash behind his previous one. The teacher's tissues weren't as soft as his, but all schools bought the cheap rough ones. He gently set the box back on his desk and stood their awkwardly.

"Well... The principal said I could have a day off. Yeah, I spent two months in public school before transferring here. There was only one dorm left, and that is with a third year. I suppose it's alright, well it is with me. You see, Mr. Borger -sir-, my pet just died today.. I told my mom to feed him and check the water temperature like I do every day... but she said she did and it was just his time... His name was Flipper!" he started to tear up again. "I got him at the carnival several years ago and slowly he grew and he got really big. He was my best friend and he'd blow bubbles at me! I miss him so much! I knew I should have never left home. If I hadn't then Flipper might still be alive... Mom said she already... She already flushed him!" tears began gorging out of his eyes.

Snatching several tissues out of the box he had recently set down he buried his face in them. He felt so upset. The last death in his family had been his grandmother's and since then he had never cried like this. He felt like hurling all over the floor, and things began to get blurry. His breathing picked up and down in short, brief huffs. His heart pumped against his ribs and his eyes ached as tears spilled from them.

The worst of it all was he was balling his eyes out in front of his teacher. "I- I'm soorryy," he whined behind the cover of tissues.

[Sarah]

Flipper? As in a fish? Anthony had to hide his distaste. A pet was a pet, so he knew the feeling. But.. well, he hadnt really cried upon finding out about his own older pet's death a long, long time ago. He was more mad than upset about his own scenario. But, he couldnt blame the younger boy. This, though, was a first.

Anthony nodded as Chris poured out, setting his notes to the side. Chris would want his full attention now. Yes, let the boy have a day off. It sounded fair, especially to Anthony, who had previously had to deal with a similar case. Oh, but the mentioning of the carnival situation was only so familiar. He finally cleared his throat, holding more tissues out to the boy. Damn, that boy was going to go through an entire forest of tissues at this rate. Crying as heavily as he was. Anthony reached into his pocket, and pulled out a white hankerchief, offering it to the boy. "Well, I'm sorry about your loss, son." He murmured. He had yet to learn Chris's name, after all. "And, I can definitely relate." He said, nodding. Oh, this was just so weird. Comforting a boy over a dead fish? This was a first.

Such an awkward situation, but Anthony would cope.

With a bit of a sigh, he turned to the papers he had begun to gather for Chris before he had needed a shoulder to cry on. It was a bit of a hefty stack, but Anthony took out whatever grades were not truly neccessary, and wouldnt effect his grade too terribly. He had it together in a stack on his desk. "Dont feel the need to complete these today." He said softly, nodding. "I'll give you about another week for these to be finished. Dont sweat." He smiled slightly. The boy deserved a break.

A bit of a rueful smile came as Chris apologized. "Dont worry about it." He said, shrugging. Hey, teachers were people too, you know.

[Miss Murder]

Christian wiped his face with the tissues then gratefully took some more. He took the big bundle to the trash can in the corner. He felt disgusted in himself. Balling out in front of a teacher and then getting all snotty and nasty. He inhaled slowly and his breathing became simple again. He put on a fake smile, which he was good at, and accepted the papers. "A week? No problem. I'll get working on it right away," as he grasped the edges of the paper he felt the sharp corner dig into his skin. Paper cut.

In one sweeping motion he turned on his heels and set the papers on one of the student's desks and then rummaged through his pocket. There he pulled out his familiar, small first aid kit. He pulled out some anti-bacteria spray, rubbed it on his finger, then a small band aid. Wrapping it around the small cut he tucked the whole thing back in his pocket. "It happens to me a lot," he noted to the teacher with a heavy voice. He was exhausted, and he felt like taking a nap. No longer had he the energy he had to walk down the hall. "Nurgg," he let out a soft moan as he lifted the pile of papers again. One teacher done, and several more to go.

Would he survive? Giving the teacher a grateful look he walked awkwardly to the door, "Um, thanks for everything. I would prefer, er, that we didn't talk about that again. I mean, I don't really want the other kids to know.. or anything." He looked down at his shoes. His head was spinning after balling his eyes out. He felt so sick. Maybe he should go to the nurse's office? Things were become blurry and slow... The world was darkening? Shaking his head slightly he tried to stop himself.

Passing out would be awful. Especially in front of the teacher he had just cried in front of. He'd look completely hopeless. He was though... He was a big baby. He wanted to cling to his mother and cry some more. Though, he couldn't. It was time for him to grow up. He turned his back on the teacher now and shifted the papers in one arm so he could open the door. It was time to go.

[Sarah]

A pair of dark brows furrowed. Was Anthony just being paranoid, or did the boy seem a little pale? The boy was still dripping, clutching the Downy-fresh hankercheif in his left hand, but was yet to stain with his tears. They had pretty much cut off now, only now the boy was dripping blood from his finger. Anthony had just opened the top drawer of his desk to pull out a band-aid, when the boy was still yet to be taken care of, until Anthony's brows rose, seeing the boy was quite prepared.

Anthony nodded to Chris' request. He understood that completely. He wouldnt utter a word to absolutely anyone. But, still, Chris did seem a bit out of it. Brows were still furrowed. "Are you all right, though?" Anthony asked, a bit weary.

[Miss Murder]

Christian nodded his head and focused on turning the door knob and the yanking the door open. Fresh air hit his stinging face and his condition worsened. As he took a few steps out into the hall he glanced at the rows and rows of rooms, for the teachers. His head span, and for a split second he thought he say Flipper...


The fish's image flashed through his mind and his body just shut down. If started in his feet and began to climb up his leg and up his spine. Things were dark and the last thing he saw was a bird fly off the branch of a tree.

Christian's body suddenly froze as if he were going into shock, and the next thing that happened was him swiftly falling to the tile floor.

Christian wasn't sure why, but at the moment he was home again. There he sat, on the familiar door step of house two eighty. Quickly jumping up from he yanked the door up and raced inside. There was his two sisters, playing a game, and practically jumped into their laps. Hugging each tightly they groaned and asked what the hell he was doing... Though he didn't have time... He could feel the world fading although he screamed to stay. He quickly ran from his sisters and upstairs to see his mother and father.. While he still had time.

[Sarah]

Anthony's eyes widened as the boy fell to the floor. Holy shit! He daksed over to where Chris fell, kneeling down next to him. Naturally, Anthony was rather panicked. Staying calm was not his strong suit. In fact, if there was ever to be a school shooting, it would be hard for Anthony to keep from breaking down. He looked up and down the hall. No one. Where the hell were everyone?! This was a school for crying out loud!

He leaned his ear close to Chris's chest, still hearing a heart beat. Well.. at least that was still good. He tapped him on the shoulder. "Um.." Shit, he still didnt know the boy's name. "Kid, you need to wake up." Kid? He had just called the boy, 'kid'? Oh, lord.. He grabbed Chris's shoulders, shaking them. "Come on.. come on, damn it." He muttered, mainly to himself. It was a rare sight when he ever cursed, let alone in front of a kid. But.. he was loosing it.

Palms were all ready shaking. God.. today of all days, a kid had to pass out on his floor?

[Miss Murder]

As soon as he made it upstairs there he saw his target.. His father stood there, and so did his mother - they were talking. Instantly he had his arms wrapped around the two and their talking stopped. They both inclined to hold their son as well. There was no way he was going to wake up...

The world began to shake and he felt his parent's touch fading. What was going on? He heard a frantic voice and something hurt really bad. Not ready to wake up yet, he refused, and continued to hold on to what he had just saw.

Was Flipper there too? He raced down the stairs again to look at the fish bowl... There sat the fat goldfish, and as soon as he saw Christian it blew bubbles at him. A smile sparked on his comrades face. Flipper...

[Sarah]

Shit, shit, shit. Wake up, kid, wake up! Anthony felt like he was going to have a heart attack right then and there. What did he do now?! The kid wasnt waking up. Wasnt this the perfect first day of teaching? Was he supposed to go get the nurse? She would know what to do. But.. no, he had to stay with him. Someone had to be with him always. So, what was in his power to do? Well.. he knew CPR... would that help?

Well, he hoped so. Biting down on his lips, he formed his hands into one fist, placing it on his chest. Wait.. wait.. if his heart was still beating, did he need to pump it? No, that would only hurt him more..right? Flustered with himself, Anthony held his hands to himself as he thought. He tapped him again, and shook him again. No response. This kid was going to be the death of him.

Unsure of what else to do, he was all ready sweating something terrible, he took a deep breath, and pressed his lips to Chris', opening his mouth and allowing the air to go through.

[Miss Murder]

Christian's fragile world suddenly shattered and his blurry eyes blinked awake to see Anthony leaning down to him. What the hell? What the fuck was he doing!? He felt his mouth being forced open and then the other man's lips on his own. Instantly a shock went threw his body...

The older man had sort of a beard so when it rubbed against his chin he felt slightly annoyed by it. He was all sweaty and the kiss... Wait! This wasn't a kiss! It couldn't be. He felt paralyzed underneath the man and his face grew hot. What was he doing... He thought they were friends, and now he was doing mouth contact? He felt the other man's hot breath all the way to the back of his throat and it tickled him slightly. He quickly shut his mouth before being teased anymore. He couldn't take it.

Finally his body moved and he gently pushed at the teacher to get him to stop. "Urghy," he moaned from behind his lips. It was TOO much. His head hurt and from his teacher doing some sort of lip contact with him he felt even worse now.

[Sarah]

Anthony didnt realize that Chris was awake by the time his lips touched his, forcing air down his throat. Had he known, well..that wouldnt have happened. In no way was he kissing the boy, though. Not at all. He didnt like boys...like that, to begin with. And, even if he did, he wouldnt attack a student. He wasnt a pedophile for god's sake.

But, finally, Anthony got the message when he was pushed away. Shit..the kid must have taken it the wrong way. He knew it. People were easy to figure out sometimes, this was a no brainer. And, he doubted that he would get a second to explain either. Anthony just leaned back on his knees, more happy that the kid was finally awake than he was embarrassed. He had good reason for what he did.