Professional Trust . (adult themed) Short story

Discussion in 'Creative Writing, Graphics, Movies, etc.' started by Arkose, Jul 27, 2009.

  1. Arkose

    “Hey Kyle, you can’t get into the class room through that door.”
    “Thanks Mike, The broken sign on the door confused me,.”
    “Don’t get your panties in a bunch, unfortunately all the side doors are broken. I have walked all around this building. I wish I didn’t waste my time walking around the back.”
    Kyle looked at Mike for second, trying to think of something witty to say. Nothing could come forth, so Kyle just started to walk to the front of the building. Mike took a couple of long steps to catch up to Kyle. As both turn the corner, both gave a sigh of disbelief when noticing the line to get into class.
    “This is so fucking retarded. Why are the class sizes so large? Seriously three hundred students in one class is crap.” Said Mike.
    “Everything costs money, will you pay another three or four grand for hundred less students?” Replied Kyle.
    Mike and Kyle headed to the back of the line Mike being very visibly pissed off, his mood got worse when he accidentally heard other students saying that the Teaching Assistants where excused from class discussion and that the professor just wanted to talk about “life.” Mike turned to Kyle and before mike said anything Kyle quickly said,
    “I know, this guy takes things a little personal but at least we are getting’s A’s, so just take the small crap.”
    Mike turned away, understanding that Kyle was right, but absolutely hated wasting time talking about things aimed at the stupid and unmotivated, the only people that listen are the ones that already will exceed in life.
    The students file side by side through the grey colored double door, as usual the professor meet everyone at the door, with greetings.
    “Hey Pro Pearson!” welcomed Kyle.
    “Either call me Professor or Mr. Pearson, not some adolescent hip phrase.” replied in his usual cool but slightly irritated voice.
    “Good afternoon” said Mr. Pearson towards Mike.
    “Hey Professor.” Mike replied in the shortest, and insignificant way possible.
    Mike hated that teachers did not take the time to learn names, and learn about the students. Mr. Pearson though at least tried to say “Hi” to the students even if it was just all show, and probably to give the impression that the professor wasn’t running late. The classroom was three fourths full, an amazing achievement for a Thursday afternoon class. Mike and Kyle usually sat in the center section, half way down and towards the right side next to the walk way. The “classroom” if that’s what you would call it, was more of a auditorium. The auditorium sat around five hundred students, cramped together. The seats had flip up desks, that are either broken, splintering, or just carved up to hell with the latest profanity or sexual sayings. The seats of course are in worse shape, having lost all its padding, and faded blue color with the normal wear and tare of items that have been around for twenty some years. Mike fell into his usual seat, slouched down and looked up to the faded wood panel ceiling.
    “Who would ever put wood panel on the ceiling?” thought Mike out loud.
    “Do you really have to ask that everyday?” replied mike.
    “What else you want me to comment on? The piss colored walls, that haven’t been painted white in ages, or the stage full of racks? I can go on all day about the state of this school.” Mike bellowed in an agitated way.
    Kyle sighed, and gave a little chuckle. “I don’t know why you complain about, this building is historic. I wouldn’t want one of those new buildings that have running water and working electrical outlets, that’s just greedy”
    “Well, everyone please take your seats it is time to start this lovely lesson.” Bellowed from a surprising deeper and more stern voice. The voice was different emotionally that Mike turned had to turn his head to make sure it was the professor speaking. He noticed the professor took the time to actually close the door and lock it up, mike was wondering why when the professor continued with “I just can’t stand those kids that come in late to class. If you know someone is running late, let them know the new policy please, that the door will be locked.”
    “Well, I would say that would be strange but, to each their own I guess.” whispered Kyle, “He isn’t that bad, he’s probably more normal than other teachers, but with too much knowledge for his own good.” laughed Kyle, a little to loud for some people turned at Kyle, which in turn made him blush a little. Kyle was sarcastic but overall he did what was right, even if it had bad consequences.
    “We’ll today I was going to go over some life questions, and consequences, with all of you, but first we need to split into the following groups.” Said Mr. Pearson.
    The class was split into four groups. Mike and Kyle was in the first group that was to the far left of the auditorium, Mike guessed that their was about fifty of them in this group. Mike was glade to be in this group, everyone in it was doing very well in the class, and overall trying at life. The next group had about seventy five and was more centered but still to the left side of the auditorium. The third group was the largest, looking larger than both first groups combined and took up most of the center and right of the auditorium. Mike looked at the last group and sighed with relief.
    Kyle leaned over “Well that last group is sure not part of any tool shed or even near the crayon box.”
    Mike couldn’t help but laugh, with about five others that eavesdropped into the comment. Kyle smiled with achievement, Mike knew well that he rather be looked as a interesting and fun person then do anything for himself. Kyle really haven’t changed much since High school, Mike was hated for being so sarcastic and Kyle was well liked for being so nice.
    The last group had about sixty to seventy kids in it, all who looked weary about what will happen next after noticing how the groups looked, but eventually took up the corner of the right side.
    “Well now that we are all in these groups, we will name the groups from left to right; A,B,C,F. (some sighs in disbelief) Yes, currently these are the students that are getting those grades. Professors are normally told not to impeach anyone’s privacy, but this will make the perfect social experiment.” The professor left the stage and walked to the group that named was F. The professor looked up at the group. Mike wished he could see how the professor was looking at them. The class was on its toes for the professor to say something, at last Mr. Pearson calmly said “I need the following two students, to come join me on stage. It would benefit everyone if they would just come visit with me. Ron Becker and Ellen Hesti please come down.”
    All the eyes in the auditorium was scanning the F group, wanting to judge the two students that where being called out. Ron and Ellen wouldn’t stand, probably out of embarrassment thought Mike, but the professor said something good would come from it.
    “Please, can Ron and Ellen come down. I wont be ridiculing you or anything, and it will increase the quality of everyone’s life.” continued the Professor sounding more agitated but still very cool and calm.
    Two students finally stood up, very slowly, noticing that all eyes turned on them two. Both hesitated to walk down, but decided to get it over with and started down the aisle, what’s the worse thing that can happen? Their parents would just sue the school. Ron looked like the normal rich student that didn’t care about anything other then the next party, and Ellen was wearing a sorority shirt, and not just any of them but the “snob” sorority.
    “I wonder if these are the worse, or maybe the hardest workers?” said Mike.
    “I’m lost right now, why are they being called down anyways?” replied Kyle in a concerned voice, at first didn’t bother Mike but it started to scratching at the back of his mind.
    Mr. Pearson stood straighter, his face became less dimmer, as the two students reached the stage. “Please Mr. Becker and Ms. Hesti can you please stand side by side, right here.”
    Mr. Pearson pointed to the front of the stage. Mr. Pearson then walked to the back and grabbed a bag and brought it up front, the bag was all black and was about long as a baseball bat, but weighed around twenty plus pounds.
    “OK, now that we are already, its time for the class to really begin,” said Mr. Pearson as he put the bag down and started to pull something out.
    The whole class leaned to the left and then the right trying to see what was being pulled out, but it was all no use. The two students stood in audiences way. The classroom became quite with anticipation, everyone eager to see a gift or punishment, maybe a good joke or two. Mike pulled him self up and was literally on the edge of his seat. “Maybe today was worth coming to class, getting to see some comedy or ass chewing, both would be great,” thought Mike. Kyle stood still, he really didn’t care to much for public humiliation for anyone, even though he might laugh at first, he usually would gather himself quickly. Mr. Pearson stood directly behind the two students. Ron tried to stand their with a “I’m rebel,” type of stance, while Ellen was visually nervous, as her knees rattled and buckled a little, while trying to hide her shaking hands
    A noise that sound like a train running through the auditorium burst out of thin air, The noise kept echoing for what seemed like eternity. Mike grabbed his ears as the second echo came by, his head. Kyle scrunched down in pain, as the noise hit his ears. The two tried to gathered their composure, and sit back straight in their chair and looked back on stage. Mike couldn’t eve think for himself not alone try to gather himself. Kyle after the first shock was actually gathering himself a little better. Mike looked to the stage to see what had happened and all he saw was two bodies that lay in front of the professor, as he was holding what later was identified as a 9 mm pistol. The bodies had two holes in the back of their head, not moving laying on their stomachs, while the gun was as the movies showed, still smoking. Blood was just starting to filter out of the bodies, staining the wood stage. Kyle got his composure first out of shock, while Mike had to physically shake his head to gather himself. Mike could finally hear the screaming that started since the first shot. Panic struck the auditorium. Some students ran to the door, finding it to be lock, screaming, searching for any way out. Other students ducked behind the chairs in front of them, crying, breathing hard, something will come save them. The last group of students sat frozen in their chairs, unable to move out of pure shock of the situation, as if their muscles have given out, one of those frighten sheep that their muscles get so tight they can’t move. Kyle ducked behind the front chairs, screaming “What The FUCK.” “Fuck” “Fuck.” Mike was still in his chair trying gather what had happened, looking at Kyle who was shivering with fear. Mike looked back at Mr. Pearson, nothing has changed on his expression. He looked like he was taken in the panic, absorbing all what was going on around him. Mr. Pearson wasn’t smiling though in enjoyment or grimacing, he was just there, holding the gun, looking around. Mike’s mind was wondering, it couldn’t keep its focus, was mike scared? He couldn’t tell for himself.
    Mikes mind started back to reality with a slight voice from what was around him. “SIT DOWN, please.” Mike still didn’t know what was being yelled or from whom, it was mass chaos. “SIT DOWN NOW” again, more clear, and more urgency. All of his senses came back with a loud shot from the 9 mm. The class became quite, ducking behind anything that could be found. Crying still happening from everyone, and small screams still be heard, but the class was quite in terms of chaos.
    “Sit in your chairs, now” The shooter, the students former professor yelled. “You are stuck in hear, locked in, and you will be shot if your not back in your seats.”
    Students looked around, and tried to stay hidden. Another shot came from the professors gun, hitting another student. The student yelled in pain, screaming from being hit in the leg, bleeding.
    “Last warning, sit back in your seats, so we can talk.” said the Professor.
    The students, started to gather in their seats. Some faster then others, maybe out of hope they wont be shot, knowing that if they tried to get out they will get shot and if they sit, they might live. Kyle, moved back into his next to Mike who still has not moved. Mike looked at the people around him, no one was talking, no one wanted to hear anything but “you are free.” Kyle’s, eyes jumping around, looking for exists, or hiding places. Fear had stricken the auditorium, struck it down like a hammer.
    “Thank you for sitting, now I know all of you wonder what, and why things had to happen this way.” said the professor in his usual calm and confident voice.
    The students scared just looked on in fright.
    “I can go off about how I’m loosing my job, and with a PHD, I no longer can find a job. I can go on about how, the budget cuts to our education system and to teachers have driven me mad. Even though all of this is probably true of my actions, I fear that the main cause is society and our students.”
    Professor moved from the dead bodies to the desk, making sure to bring his black bag.
    “These students if that’s what you want to call them, died because they are a tumor to our society, bleeding it dry or causing society to bleed. These two would have done anything, that would improve the way of life. To be alive, is to move forward, making lives better, improving your lineage standing in society, to make right the things that are wrong.”
    The worried crowd, all had blank faces. No reaction, but utter terror in each eye, begging for life.
    Time went on with no movement from the Students except a few that where aloud to help the wounded kid, the professor was waiting for the student to stop bleeding. Mike thought that he was doing this for a drama effect and get people more worried and more intense listing. After the longest thirty minutes in everyone’s lives, the wounded student at least stopped bleeding and the scene did not become less tense.
    “I see finally some have started to text, hopefully if your smart the police, which is perfect.” Said the calm professor.
    Random students put their phones away immediately while other kept texting.
    “This would be a waste if the higher authorities where left out of this situation.”
    Mike’s mind was racing again, Kyle though had a stern look on his face though. Mike nudge Kyle and tried with all his might with mere eye contact to have Kyle not to do anything stupid. Kyle eyes though looked back in determination.
    Kyle jumped to his feet “Professor let us leave, stop the shooting. You’re a professor, and your killing your students.” yelled Kyle.
    Mike looked on in disbelief, worried about his friend. The professor stopped and looked at Kyle for a moment, the auditorium in complete silence, waiting for something to happen.
    “Finally” said the former teacher. “I knew someone from the A section would make action first, it validates my point.”
    The professor started walking up the aisle where Kyle and Mike are sitting. Students leaned away as the professor made his way up the aisle like the professor had some type of disease. Kyle was getting a little worried and started to act like he was sitting down.
    “Please don’t sit down, I want to thank you for giving my actions some resolve. Don’t worry you have proven to be worthy to live on. People live and die and unless we have the strength against the evil in the world then we will all fall.” The professor turned to face the auditorium. “Hitler’s rise to power and then the slaughter of humans came by the fact that good people sat by and let it happen. I will be the evil that lets our future rise to higher hopes.”
    Mike couldn’t hear Mr. Pearson speech anymore, since his full attention was on Kyle and seeing that Kyle’s eyes grew wider, and body filling up with adrenalin. Mike wanted to stop Kyle but couldn’t think of away to do it without drawing Mr. Pearson‘s attention.
    Kyle lunged at the professor as he was speaking with the class and grabbed his gun arm. The professor pulled the trigger and a shot when into the roof, the class again screamed in unison. The two fell down to the ground and rolled down the aisle, Kyle fighting to win back everyone’s chance to live. Students didn’t move, worried about getting in line of the sights of the gun. Both men grunted and yelled to get enough strength to win the battle. The fight went on, time stood still. A loud grunting noise came from Kyle as the professor hit him in the groin after landing at the bottom of the aisle. Mr. Pearson stood up while Kyle was rolling over in pain.
    “Again you help validate my reasons, what is you name.” Asked the professor.
    Kyle laid out on the ground said his name.
    “You hear that everyone this is Kyle Witter, he tried to save your lives while you sat frighten. All hero’s eventually need society to back them up in times of need, and you have failed him.” The professor voice raised in anger and in determination.
    “Kyle, You will go to the next life without a problem.” The professor took a second and looked into Kyle’s eyes, Mike started to stand up to help his friend when the pistol went off again. The bullet went right through Kyle’s skull, no chance of surviving or suffering.
    “This is your fault.” yelled the professor at the whole class.
    “I would have gladly died if you would have backed Kyle up, but like the rest of society you have failed to stop evil from rising. He died swift, but in vain as you still are to scared for any action.”
    Mike couldn’t help but start crying, he had never cried before. He blamed himself as the professor had said. He couldn’t stand weeping in front of everyone, but he couldn’t help it. His friend, a good friend just died in front of his eyes. He could have helped, or at least been there with him as he saw his last light instead of laying their alone. Mike had lost complete control of his body, eyes crying, body shaking, his legs collapsing. The professor looked on to see all the tears in his the students eyes.
    “Are you finally understanding the situation, are you finally done to standing by? I am one person, yes one might die but I can not stop all of you from stopping me.”
    The only thing heard would be students crying, not for their own life’s anymore but for those that have fallen, that lie dead. The crying went on at least ten or more minutes. Mike couldn’t stand it anymore, he couldn’t just let his friend go out like that, he had to go next to him, to be by him. Mike gathered his composure and his attention snapped to focus on the situation. His eyes grew in anger, his muscles flexed in anticipation.
    “I will not let this happen.” thought Mike, “I can not let this happen, I will make sure Kyle lives on. I will not die, but this will end.”
    Mike stood up “Fuck you professor, Fuck you to hell, You will pay for this, I will make you pay.” Yelled Mike at the top of his vocals. The students turned in shock.
    “We shall see.” replied the Mr. Pearson.
    Both men stood looking at each other, for what would be described as hours. Mike was about to start heading down to the professor not knowing what will happen when all of sudden the person next to him a complete stranger put his hand on Mike’s shoulder and stood next to him.
    “You will pay professor and I will help him to make you pay.”
    Mike was in shock, the whole student section looked shocked. A seed was planted, with Mike’s and the strangers actions. Sadness slowly started to erase from the students faces, as anger moved in. The aura given off was intense, as thick as ocean fog moving in over the land. Determination and frustration filled the room. One by one students started to stand. Emotions filled their lungs as the students needed to voice their pain, and began to yell their feelings at the professor. Showing the anger they had towards the evil before them. Mr. Pearson looked on in amazement not knowing that this would happen so soon.
    “I thought I had more time” thought the professor.
    The students started to head slowly to the aisle as one massive unit as a human ant colony. The students didn’t move fast, wanting to see the professor make the first move.
    “I guess, things have work out better than I thought. Its time for remembrance.” thought the professor as he reached back in to his bag.
    The Students started to make their way towards the professor, while other started to throw objects. First pens and pencils but soon calculators and cell phones started to rain down. The professor even though in pain from being hit by objects knew he had to push on.
    Mike walking his way down in confidence and sorrow, he moved closer making sure he stayed in the front of the pack, getting the first blow at the trusted professor.
    Mr. Pearson pulled a pin and dropped it behind his back, looking at the crowd. He bent down and launched a grenade into the F crowd. The students in that section scattered, running for cover. The students didn’t get out in time with over ten dieing instantly while over twenty would end up with scrape metal or other injuries. The students screamed, in horror at first and then mostly in pain. The students that where hit, cried in pain with their legs, arms and their overall body feeling as if it was on fire.
    Mike didn’t flinch, it wasn’t time to cower, it was time to finish this. He yelled in anger from the back of his throat and ran towards the professor with over fifty students behind him. The professor pull out his 9mm out of the bag and held it up to the on rushing crowd. Time almost froze for the next minute.
    “Lord, please give all the sins of those that have died to me, so they can meet you. I need to go to Hell, but please watch over these students as they protect this world from future travesties. I can’t let them bloody their hands on me……. I really hope that they finally listened to my world lesson today. I love you all.” Cried the professor in his mind.
    The gun swung around to the side of the professor’s head, Mike running even harder was about five feet away.
    A crack noised filled the auditorium, the professor stood their for a second looking right at Mike, The professor was already dead, but Mike thought he saw a tear in the back of the professors eye. The body fell to the ground with a loud thump as the auditorium ran quite, just for moment before the screams of agony cried across the building from the injured. One student grabbed the keys from the professor and ran up, while other rushed to those injured. The police/firefighters filled the room to capacity. The critical receiving check ups first, not letting any student go before questioning, and being seen by a nurse. Mike ran straight to the body of his friend, and bent down over him. Tears flowed, and Mike picked up his friend and started to carry him outside. Officers tried to stop him, but unless they where going to shoot him dead, he wouldn’t have put his friend down. Mike carried outside the building, laid him in the grass under the bright sun.
    “I’m sorry Kyle………..Rest in peace.” Mike couldn’t cry anymore, he didn’t have tears to cry anymore.
    The rest of the year was a blur, of hatred, anger, sadness, and confusion. Mike was asked to be interviewed on T.V. but he couldn’t. Other students claimed glory on TV, while other would just cried. Mike didn’t want to give credit to the situation, he lost a friend and that was enough. Mike left school after that semester. Mike moved back home, visited a psychiatrist over the summer and didn’t make any improvements if there was any to be made. Mike was not sure what was going on, he didn’t feel sad or depressed, but just different. He knew though after awhile that these feelings is what he felt and that he was neither improved or worsen by the actions he witnessed. Mike didn’t go back to school, or finish his degree. He no longer wanted anything that a degree would give him. Mikes trusted professor robbed him of any dreams, but forged him a new path. Mike never looked back, but one thing was for sure and that was he wanted to make Kyle’s life to mean something. Mike would be out in the sun, sitting in the grass which he would do at least every other day for at least a year, and sat to think about the promise he gave at Kyle funeral. “Kyle, I will protect.” Mike went on, not to be a future politician or some great scientist, but a grunt in the military which Kyle was going to join after graduating. Mike died in the military at the age of 45 by saving his subordinates from a friendly grenade. As Mike dived on the grenade, the thought of Kyle came to him, and he was ready to meet his friend again.

    (Working on the idea of making this one a actually book)
  2. Reinier

    Jul 23, 2009
    Likes Received:
    Hialeah, Florida
    thats one huge short story
  3. Arkose

    A short story actually has a large diversity in how many words/pages it has.
  4. Xamiazi

    Jun 24, 2008
    Likes Received:
    Paramedic/Navy SEAL
    Dam you wrote that, very nice. long though
  5. Arkose

    Thanks, I know its long a short story. I just wrote though more of what I want, than what people characterize as a short story. It also helps when its that long to write even longer, develop a back story about the professor and the main characters in general. Could bring it to be a short book. Playing with the idea atleast.

    Actually when I post this on short story sites most actually say they wish that I could go more in detail about how everyone felt. If I did that, it would be really long.
  6. Smash250

    I really enjoyed this short story, if this was to become a book what would you call it? I'd be very interested in buying it. Very good writing.
  7. Arkose

    Thanks! I'm not sure at this moment. I really don't like the title i gave the short story. I'm although working on making it a story with a more in depth look into the characters. Just the start though, one of my best friends published a book last year and is helping me with the help like how many words the typical first writer should produce and ect. Any thoughts on the title would be great.

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