Fan Fiction ❯ Finally Woken ❯ The Utter Monotony of Math Class ( Prologue )

Lucien let his head drop onto the desk with a muffled thud, his mass of dark curls spilling over the math book. Next to him, Brian's glazed eyes twitched slightly and a trickle of drool began to slither down his chin. Everyone in the class had fallen either into a stupor or was now fast asleep on their notes. Math was unanimously considered the most boring class available. Even the kids that enjoyed math thought the class sucked.

 

The teacher droned on, ignorant to or perhaps just not caring that his entire classroom was snoring into the pages of their books. When the sleep-inducing drawl of his voice died away, Lucien raised his head and chanced a glance at the white board. It was covered with nonsensical scribbles and numbers. A ton of “y = (x + 5)²” type problems written in Mr. Ronzio's illegible handwriting plastered the board in blue and green marker colours. Mr. Ronzio sat at his desk, straightening papers and pointedly ignoring the new computer there (he despised computers or technology of any kind. The school board had been begging him to start using it for the students' grades, but he'd refused to, even when the computer itself mysteriously appeared on his desk on morning). He must have assigned a new page in the book, thought Lucien, fighting back a yawn.

 

Several other students had been roused from their dozes when Mr. Ronzio had stopped his lecture, and where now gazing dazedly around. The bell chose that moment to ring, effectively waking the rest of the pupils from their respective trances. A moment later, they were all filing blearily out, yawning widely and stretching the kinks from their necks.

 

Lucien followed his friend Brian (who was now using a Kleenex to wipe away the trail of drool on his chin) out into the warm spring air, the bright sun making the boys blink after so long in the dark confines of the classrooms. Several younger girls giggled and waved at the pair, their perfect ponytailed hair glistening bleached-blonde in the sunlight. Brian grinned and waved back, then nudged Lucien, who gave him a disgruntled look and ignored the simpering girls, shaking his head when his friend bounded forward to properly greet the pretty teens.

 

Lucien continued on, hoisting his bookbag higher on his shoulder for the long hike to his house. The sun beat down on his back, making the long locks of dark curly hair stick to his forehead and nape as he walked. Turning onto his street, he ignored the giant dog that launched itself at him, smirking slightly when it reached the end of its chain and choked in its attempt to keep barking. He trudged into the house and dropped his bag on the floor by the door, grabbing an apple as he threaded through the kitchen.

 

“Hey, Lucien! Look!” It was Lily, his sister, who was squealing with delight and pointing excitedly at the TV in the den. “Hm?” he asked, moving to stand next to the couch she was sprawled on. “A flying bison!” she cried, overjoyed. He raised an eyebrow and glanced at the screen. And there was a giant flying bison, complete with an attached saddle, six legs, a beaver-like tail, and an arrow on its head. “Ummm…” was all he could say, staring in horrified fascination at the screen. “His name is Appa,” Lily informed him cheerfully. Lucien backed slowly out of the room, a look of disgust on his face. How could his sister stand to watch something so far-fetched?

 

As he retreated to his room, Lucien could hear Lily laughing hysterically at something one of the characters said. “Clouds… Made… Of water…” he heard her choke between gasps for air. He yanked the door shut, breathing a sigh of relief when the noise of the television was effectively blocked out. He flopped onto the bed and a grey cat immediately leapt lightly off the windowsill and curled up on his stomach. “Hey, Cricket,” he murmured gently, scratching her under her silky chin and feeling the trembling in her throat that meant she was purring. He buried a hand in her downy fur and used the other hand to turn on his stereo. “Highway Hypnosis” by Dolour began to play, and he settled back on his pillows with a book in one hand and Cricket's purring head in the other.

 

Five hours later, Lucien could be found on the couch in the den, the dishwashers monotonous hum rumbling in the background. Everyone was gone; his mum had left on a business trip two days ago and wouldn't be back for a week, and his sister was sleeping over at her friend's house for the weekend. Thank God it's summer break, he thought with a sigh, grabbing the remote out of the sofa cushions and turning on the TV. Nickelodeon flickered to life on the screen, the credits for “My Life as a Teenage Robot” scrolling swiftly past. “Up next on Nickelodeon: Avatar The Last Airbender!” cried an enthusiastic teenage voice. A flying bison appeared on the screen. Lucien groaned. `Appa' was soaring magically over a forest, and some dark-haired girl was saying something about how fun it would be to jump down and land on a cloud. “Why don't you try it?” muttered Lucien, at the exact same time as Sokka. Hm… Maybe this show wouldn't be so bad after all. The tall kid was okay.

 

Several minutes later, as the old man led Aang, Sokka, and Katara into his village, the lights flickered. The dishwasher gave a final lurching sound, then died. Every light in the house blinked out. Lucien groaned and got up to get a flashlight, when he noticed the TV hadn't turned off. It was flickering and making odd little sounds, and as he listened more closely, he could discern voices, though he couldn't tell what they were saying. He edged warily closer to the television, lifting the remote in his hand. He pressed the power button on it, but nothing changed about the blinking screen or the voices murmuring indistinctly. Ooooo-kaaaaay… He was now officially creeped out, and knelt cautiously in front of the TV, the remote now carried loosely by his side.

 

Suddenly, Cricket the cat rocketed into the room, took a flying leap, and landed between Lucien and the television, hissing at the blue-and-white screen with her back arched up and all her fur on end. Then the TV flashed a brilliant white-blue that filled the room and blinded Lucien and the voices, once soft murmurs, became deafening.

 

“We're not going the right way!”

“Sure we are! You just can't tell yet `cause we haven't gotten there yet!”

“Where ARE we going?”

 

Wind ripped around Lucien, clawing at his clothes and roaring in his ears, spinning him around as if he were a rag doll. He yelled helplessly, rolling up into a protective ball and covering his ears with his palms.

 

Then the light vanished, as if it had been sucked back into the screen, and Cricket was left yowling in the den with only the hum of the dishwasher for company.