Second By Second

The clock was ticking, second by second. Water was dripping from the tap, drop after drop. He began tapping his fingers on the wooden desk, synchronizing with the ticks and the drops. His leg soon followed and began to thump on the cold tiled floor. The classroom suddenly became alive. It appeared to have an ecosystem of its own. A system of thumps and taps, drops and ticks, they were a mass of living creatures, they were alive. He was alive and free from the boredom of the class, he…

“Quiet, Lucas!’ exclaimed the teacher, giving him the same glare she did many times before. “I have had enough of your noise making in this classroom! I will see you in detention this afternoon, and this is your final warning! One more outburst, and it’s straight to the principal’s office!”

Everything shattered, the small system of sounds that had kept him awake just crashed into a solid wall of silence. Now he had to return back to the mundane classroom atmosphere. All he wanted to do was spice it up with some rhythm, yet deep down he knew that no one would understand him. The teacher began to hand out sheets of paper to the class, and once every student had a piece, she said they had one hour to complete the assignment. It appeared that while Lucas was daydreaming, he managed to miss the instructions for the assignment. The clock was ticking, second by second. Wind kept blowing back and forth, whistling through the small, unnoticeable window crack.  He was tempted to tap his finger with the beat of nature. But he didn't, and clutching his fists, he stayed put. All of a sudden, he heard a sequence of taps, the same kind of taps that he made before the assignment. Lucas looked around confused. He knew he didn't make any noise, so who did?

“Eyes on your own papers, students,” said the teacher to the class.

 Lucas knew that that her message was meant for him, and he slowly turned his head back to the paper, still hoping to catch a glimpse of the person who tapped. But all the other students were busy writing. Twenty minutes had passed, Lucas still didn't know what to do for his assignment, but more importantly, he didn't know which one of his classmates had the same sense of rhythm and passion as him. The clock was ticking, second by second, and the scribbling sound of the 27 pencils sent out a periodic vibe. Then, it came from nowhere, the tapping. Lucas looked around again, searching through the classroom for the person who was making that sound he loved. The sound of leg thumping came from the other side of the class, which threw Lucas off track completely. More and more people joined in, hitting desks, clapping, thumping their legs on the cold marble floor. Soon, about 10 people in the class were making more and more noise, but instead of harmony, it began to get blurry, ugly, and loud. All the while the teacher was doing absolutely nothing. Lucas began to shiver, the cold and putrid noise penetrated his ears, aggravating him to a sudden breaking point.

“STOP IT, STOP IT NOW, YOU’RE RUINING THE SOUND, YOU’RE DISRUPTING THE RHYTHM!” bellowed Lucas. Everyone went silent. Lucas was lost in thought, and just stood there, gazing over the heads of the people watching him. The teacher took off her glasses, stood up and took up a deep breath.

“Lucas. Principal’s office. Now.”
“Ms, I…”
“NOW!”

Lucas looked around, his classmates staring at him like he was some sort of monster. He slowly made his way out of the class, and hunched from the slam of the door behind him. He entered the long and cold hallway. The long line of fluorescent lights led straight through the hallway, a couple flickered every now and then. All the students were in their respective classes, and Lucas was alone. He started to slowly walk to the Principal’s office, every step he took made a thump which echoed across the whole school. Lucas was in no hurry. He walked for a bit then stopped. The clock was ticking, second by second. Lucas closed his eyes and listened. Then, he proceeded walking in rhythm, snapping his fingers. He was out of the classroom, out of that dull and ugly atmosphere. He felt an arm grabbing him on the shoulder, then pulling him with brute force.

                “What are you doing here? Making noise in the middle of class? If the principal would have gotten to you first then…”

It was the janitor, a man of about 60 years of age.

                “You know you can’t do this Lucas. The consequences are too severe.”

                “What am I supposed to do?”

                “Run, leave this place.”

Without even a second thought, Lucas ran for the exit. He knew what happened to students who had a sense of creativity. He saw his other classmates, his boring and dull classmates try to make the same rhythmic music as he did, but failing miserably. All they knew was how to do basic work, and he was not going to have any of that. Second by second, the sound of the clock echoed in the hallway. Lucas wanted to run in rhythm, but he couldn't do it now. He pushed the door open and light flashed his eyes. Lucas covered them, and after a while moved his arm, only to see the principal himself stand with two other teachers right in front of him. Behind him, he heard the janitor’s voice,

                “Goodbye, Lucas.”

Matúš, Bielik. "Our School Corridor." DeviantArt. DeviantArt, 25 Oct. 2011. Web. 21 Jan. 2015.