They always say that teaching is a calling.

Early mornings and late nights, little pay and no support from administration, difficult parents, students, and hell, even difficult faculty members sometimes. Looking at all the cons, it's a wonder why there are any teachers at all. But we put up with it, because it’s what we are meant to do.

It’s what I’m meant to do.

At least I keep trying to tell myself that.

After working my ass off getting my Bachelor’s in elementary education and my teaching certificate, I was ready to throw myself into the deep end, and applied for a teaching position at a local elementary school (not naming the school for safety and privacy reasons). I was surprised to hear back and get an interview so quickly, but I chalked it up to teaching shortages and went through the interview, and eventually, the hiring process. I was ecstatic, I would be teaching the second grade, which was my goal, as I had specialized in early childhood education, and I was itching to get started. Good thing that development week was right around the corner.

Walking into the school the first day of development week was both exciting and nerve wracking. I didn’t know anyone at the school, and I was scared of making an absolute fool of myself, or even worse, not being prepared enough for the kids. But my fears were quickly soothed after I heard a knock on my door.

“Hi, hon. You settlin’ in okay?”

I nodded, offering a smile.

“Ms. DeLuca. You can call me Valerie.” She stuck her hand out, revealing a perfect red manicure. I smiled, shaking it.

Ms. DeLuca had been teaching the second grade for over fifteen years. She looked like if Ms. Frizzle had grown up in Jersey City: Fire engine red hair thrown up with a colored pencil, gold hoops, and a loud button up covered in farm animals, offset only by her thick accent.

“Um, yeah! I’m Ms. McAddams. You can call me Eleanor, or Ellie, doesn’t matter.”

She smiled. We chatted a bit longer about this and that, before she finally headed back to my doorway.

“Well, Ellie, I just wanted to let you know I’m your neighbor. If you need anything, anything at all, you come talk to me, okay?”

“Okay, thank you so much!” I started moving around the room again, returning to my unpacking, expecting her to head out, but she didn’t.

“I mean it, hon.” Her tone was darker, more serious. “You need somethin', you call me, okay?” I looked at her, there was something behind her eyes. Worry? Dread? I didn’t know. I just kind of stared back, before offering her a timid smile, nodding.

“Yeah, okay, I will. Thanks, Valerie.”

That seemed to satisfy her, she brightened up a bit, shooting you a wink.

“Stick with me kid, you’ll do great.”

And with that, she went back to her classroom, closing her door behind her.

I worked on setting up my room until it got dark. My classroom was a revolving door of various faculty introducing themselves, and I was finally starting to feel more comfortable, confident even. Slowly, people started to trickle out of the school, but I was too excited to stop what I was doing. I was hunched over a couple boxes, digging around some books for the display I was working on, when I heard someone clear their throat behind me. I thought almost everyone else had gone home, so I just about jumped out of my skin, before whipping around.

There was a woman about my age, standing amidst the rows of desks. She was thin, with short, mousy hair framing her face. She had her arms crossed, head tilted upwards, as if she was sizing me up.

“Excuse me,” her voice was nasal, to match her pinched face. “You’re in my classroom.”

I cocked my head to the side, furrowing my brow. “Excuse me?”

Her nostrils flared. “You. Are. In. My. Classroom.”

“Um, I’m so sorry, but this is the classroom I was told was mine. I have the info sheet here, hold on.” I turned towards my desk, reaching for the blue information sheet I had been given earlier in the day, when she suddenly stepped in front of me, causing me to jump.

Wait, that doesn’t make any sense. She was halfway across the classroom behind me, and now all of a sudden she’s in front of me. I didn’t even see her move in my periphery. I instinctively backed up, she was too close for comfort.

“Get out of my classroom.” She was angry. More angry than a person should be about something like this. She was looking at me like I ran over her dog with my car.

“Ma’am if you would-”

She started to mumble something, eyes screwed shut. She looked seriously distraught. I continued to back up, severely uncomfortable at this point. I wish I had run, but I just stood there like an idiot, in shock and confusion. I watched as she started to scratch herself, drawing blood, frantically making her way up to her head.

It was when she started to pull chunks of her hair out that I finally snapped out of it, making my way towards the door.

“Ma’am why don’t I ca-”

A loud screeching sound interrupted my statement, bringing me to my knees. The sound was unbearable, causing my vision to go white. I screamed in pain, at least I think I did, covering my ears to no avail. It was like the sound was coming from inside my head.

getoutofmyclassroomgetoutofmyclassroomgetoutofmyclassroomgetoutofmyclassroomgetoutofmyclassroomgetoutofmyclassroomgetoutofmyclassroomgetoutofmyclassroomgetoutofmyclassroomgetoutofmyclassroomgetoutofmyclassroomgetoutofmyclassroomgetoutofmyclassroomgetoutofmyclassroomgetoutofmyclassroomgetoutofmyclassroomgetoutofmyclassroomgetoutofmyclassroomgetoutofmyclassroomgetoutofmyclassroomgetoutofmyclassroomgetoutofmyclassroomgetoutofmyclassroomgetoutofmyclassroomgetoutofmyclassroomgetoutofmyclassroomgetoutofmyclassroomgetoutofmyclassroomgetoutofmyclassroomgetoutofmyclassroomgetoutofmyclassroomgetoutofmyclassroomgetoutofmyclassroomgetoutofmyclassroomgetoutofmyclassroomgetoutofmyclassroomgetoutofmyclassroomgetoutofmyclassroomgetoutofmyclassroomgetoutofmyclassroomgetoutofmyclassroomgetoutofmyclassroomgetoutofmyclassroomgetoutofmyclassroomgetoutofmyclassroomgetoutofmyclassroomgetoutofmyclassroomgetoutofmyclassroomgetoutofmyclassroomgetoutofmyclassroomgetoutofmyclassroomgetoutofmyclassroomgetoutofmyclassroomgetoutofmyclassroomgetoutofmyclassroomgetoutofmyclassroomgetoutofmyclassroomgetoutofmyclassroomgetoutofmyroomGETOUTOFMYCLASSROOMGETOUTOFMYCLASSROOMGETOUTGETOUTGETOUTGETOUTGETOUTGETOUTGETOUTGETOUTGETOUTGETOUT

I was writhing around on the ground, pressure building in my head until it felt like I was about to explode. My vision was going in and out, but in between black outs I could see… whatever this was stalk towards me.

She had absolutely mangled her face. Deep scratch marks covered her cheeks, blood streaming down her face. Only a couple sparse patches of her hair remained, the rest of her head was raw, large wounds pocketing her scalp, one deep enough to see her skull peek out through the gore. Her eyes were bloodshot, pupils blown, and her mouth was stretched wide, unnaturally wide, in what I could only assume was a perverted smile.

I tried to scramble away from her, but she was too fast. She dug her nails into my leg, yanking me towards her, causing me to howl in pain. Her nails were unnaturally sharp, and she started slashing at me with abandon, marring my legs and arms in deep scratch marks. Her laugh was bouncing around in my head.

hahahahagetoutofmyclassroomhahahahahahagetoutgetouthahahahagetouthahahahahahagetoutgetouthahahahagetoutofmyclassroomhahahahahahahahahahagetoutofmyclassroomhahahahahahagetoutgetoutoutoutoutoutoutahhaHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAGETOUTHAHAHAHAHAOUTOUTOUTHAHAHAHAHAHOUTHAHA

I tried to push her away, but every time I fought she dug her nails deeper. I couldn’t fight anymore, I was in too much pain, so I did the only thing I could.

I screamed as loud as I fucking could.

For a moment, the laughter bouncing around in my head only got louder, more disorienting. But through all of the din, I heard something slam against the wall.

I looked up as my attacker’s head whipped towards the now open door. Ms. DeLuca stood in the doorframe, a moment of horror flashing across her face, before a look of steely determination took over. The woman over me threw her head back, screeching, before launching herself at her.

“Valerie don-”

The sound quickly left my throat as I watched Ms. DeLuca kick her square in the chest with her boot, causing the woman to fly across the room into my desk. She crumpled to the floor, wailing like a wounded animal, as Valerie stalked towards her, pulling something out of her shirt pocket. The being unleashed another ungodly scream, causing me to wretch, vision going white once again.

“SHUT UP.”

With one fluid motion, Valerie brought her arms down, driving whatever she was holding in her hands into the being’s skull with full force.

And everything went quiet.

I looked up at Valerie, her chest heaving, a splatter of blood across her face. She turned to look at me.

“You got any nail clippers?”

I stared at her, unable to answer from the shock. She shrugged, wiping the fluids off of what I could now see was a pair of safety scissors on her jeans.

“I think I got some, hold on.”

I slowly got up, cautiously making my way over to the unmoving body on the floor. Her face was permanently twisted in rage, a large wound between her eyes spouting an oily black liquid. I leaned in, morbid curiosity getting the better of me.

“Don’t touch that.”

I jumped, instinctively backing away.

“Hon, breathe! It’s just me, alright?”

Valerie, now holding nail clippers, made her way back into the room, before kneeling down and painstakingly clipping the woman’s nails as short as she possibly could. She put all of the clippings in a plastic bag, handing it to me.

“On your way home, stop at a fast food place and throw these away in their dumpster, okay hon?”

I nodded.

“Who- what is that?”

She shrugged. “Someone who used to work here. Well, what they turned her into, anyway.”

I stared at her, dumbfounded. “I- I’m sorry, I really don’t understand.”

Valerie sighed, before placing her hands on my shoulders.

“Look, honey, I was really hopin’ I wasn’t gonna have to explain this so soon. This job… it’s more than just teaching, alright? It’s protectin' the kids… no matter the cost. If you can’t handle that, you can go home, and I’ll tell the principal you quit. Believe me, she’ll understand. If you can handle it…well… I’ll see you tomorrow, and I’ll fill you in on all the dirty details.”

I stared at her for a moment, opening my mouth, before immediately closing it. Her gaze softened, patting me on the cheek.

“You don’t need to answer now. Why don’t you head on home? I’ll deal with her.” She cocked her head towards the body lying still on the floor. All I could manage was a nod, before I grabbed my phone and keys and slowly made my way out the door.

I followed Valerie’s instructions, dropping the nail clippings at a Taco Bell dumpster, before I made it home. I sat in the shower for what felt like hours, the sharp sting of a thousand cuts slowly fading into a dull ache.

As I settled into bed, a million thoughts were swimming in my head.

I couldn’t possibly put myself through that daily. I almost fucking died!

Protect the kids.

What if Valerie hadn’t been there?

Protect the kids.

What would they tell my family? My mom?

As I drifted off to sleep, the thoughts started to fade, leaving only Ms. DeLuca’s voice echoing around in my head.

Protect the kids. Protect the kids. Protect the kids.

The sun shone brightly, cutting through the dust on the windows, as I walked through the hall the next morning. I stopped in front of the door, knocking soundly. After a brief moment of shuffling on the other side, the door opened. Ms. DeLuca smiled, inviting me inside.

“Alright, hon. Let’s get started.”