American Public School Gothic
There is a test today in Spanish. There is a test every day. The teacher never tells us there is going to be one, and we never study.
The bell rings, and as a group, we get up to go to our next classes. You enter the hallway, turn left, and keep walking. Hours pass, you still haven’t reached your class and the bell still hasn’t rang again.
Every year everyone on the football team fails the majority of their classes. Every year the football team seniors graduate with honors for athletic achievements.
The PE teacher makes your class run the Pacer. Around you, students run on broken legs, sprained ankles, with collapsed lungs. They aren’t allowed to stop.
You enter the bathroom. The rows of stalls go on forever, but not one door has a lock. Only one toilet flushes properly.
In English, you are reading Lord of the Flies. This is the 704th time you’ve read it.
A girl wears nothing but a bra to school. A boy gets dress coded for wearing a tuxedo.
The teacher asks if anyone has any questions. The girl next to you raises her hand. The teacher ignores her. The girl’s hand remains raised. You come to school the next day and she is still there, but her arm is rotted. You look at the calendar and realize it’s been three years.
A boy gets up and rants about Trump and recycling. You are in geometry.
“Healthy and good!” The lunch ladies chant the mantra every day, as they place pink slime and Brussels sprout casserole on your tray.
Your report card says you aced economics. You never took economics. Your school doesn’t have an economics class.
The science teacher calls you by your sibling’s name. You don’t have any siblings.
You talked to the school counselor yesterday regarding your schedule. Today, you can’t find her. You ask a fellow student, who tells you the woman you are looking for died eleven years ago.
Your biology class in in room 686. The school only has two floors.
The girl sleeping in the band room has always been there, and never moved. You wonder if she’s dead, then decide that it’s not your problem.
Study hall is dead silent. No one goes in, and no one goes out.
A student says the words, “To the Pit of Misery! Dilly dilly!” The entire school repeats the phrase at once, not realizing that they are already there.
The classroom is hazy from a kid vaping in the back of the classroom. The teacher says nothing. He is smoking a blunt.
It’s the dead of winter. Every room is like hell fire.
A tornado siren goes off. No one notices. The siren never stops.
You make little balls of paper from your notebook to throw at your friend’s head. They disappear before they hit him. You try again. And again. And again. The amount of notebook paper never lessens.
You look at the clock, and it says 12:31 pm. Good. It’s almost lunch. You check again ten minutes later. It is 4:43 am.
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