I woke up and got ready for school, it was the first day of my 4th term. I was told I would have English and Math as my 2 subjects, and was pretty intrigued to go to English. Once I had left my house I started playing music on the way to school. Eventually I arrived, exited the car and made my way to the school and then…
Clunk, I fell.
I got back up; everything seemed peculiar. Village Square no longer looked like good old fashioned Italy, it looked more like a war zone. I saw students continuing to walk to school and as if nothing was different, and then I saw my friend, he looked the complete opposite.
I walked up to my friend and started questioning what happened: he didn’t reply. All of a sudden I realized… He wasn’t ignoring me: I couldn’t speak! The only voice I could hear was in my head. I attempted to ignore what was happening, and I walked into the broken down building I used to remember as Blyth Academy. The teachers all looked different, some were taller and thinner others were shorter and less muscular.
I made it to English class. I walked in and sat down, the chairs were all broken, and the whole class was torn apart. Everyone continued to ignore it, Mr.Cohen started to write on the board for what we had to do in class. He wasn’t writing in English though, he was writing in a language known as Tupi which was around in the 16th-18th century. Unexpectedly he turned around, and without saying a word he sat down and all the students started doing their work. It’s as if I was the only one that didn’t understand what Mr.Cohen had wrote on the board.
After 15 minutes, I left. This 15 minutes however had felt like a whole hour: Time had changed. I tried to make my way home but couldn’t find my phone. It seemed as if I hadn’t comprehended what happened until now. I fell and hit my head, maybe I’m in a coma? Thoughts started spewing through my head; thinking of the possibilities of where I could actually be, was there a chance I died? I tried to find a way home thinking maybe if I went to my bed and slept everything would return to what I’m accustomed to knowing.
I made it home.
I entered my house, it no longer seemed like a ‘custom home’. The house in general was smaller, all the walls were black instead of white. Since everything seemed the opposite I went downstairs to see if my room would be there, and it was. I entered the bed which felt as if it was rock and fell asleep.
When I woke up, I was in the hospital…
Written by Jason Vukelaj
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