Demon In High school

Chapter 3

I stand in front of the classroom sceptical about entering

'Oil painting'

Damn! Arkan if he had decided all things about my punishment including school, books, clothes, and everything couldn't he have at least put in stuff that made sense to me.

I know nothing about painting but decided to get it over with I enter with my usual glare.

just bare it with a glare, Has become my motto ever since I had entered this realm.

The class is already full. Everyone is standing in front of their easels I spot an empty place in the middle of the classroom some people around look at me like they want to object or something for some unknown reason to me but one glare is all it takes for them to look away as I reluctantly take my place in front of the blank canvas.

And this is how it goes,

Me:stares

Canvas: blank

Me: glares

Canvas: blank

Minutes later the teacher enters. He is a middle aged man who looks slightly eccentric with an absent-minded look in his eyes and countable hair on his head he doesn't bother to make me come up and do the whole introducing myself crap in front of the class. Later, it turns out that he doesn't even remember the names of the students who regularly attend his class.

As the class starts he places a giant bowl of fruits and I can't help but sigh when he says the entire class to paint it.

The man may not remember the names of the students but the way he transforms when he looks at a canvas, scrutinizing it, pointing out flaws both major and minute the absent-minded look in his eyes totally getting replaced by a surprising keenness makes it's clear that he knows what he is doing. The man is passionate about art.

I look down at the colors and the various brushes having no damn clue what to do. I have never painted before but, when I run my hands over the color tubes I get this really weird urge to use them so I do.,I squeeze out some paint from the color tube and when I place the tip of my brush against the canvas my hand glides over it smoothly, it doesn't even shake and it is super strange because though my brain is trying to come to terms with what is happening my hand is confident.

I have just finished painting the basket when the teacher looks at my canvas.

"Nice," he says and it startles me because I hadn't seen him coming,

'Lost in painting, ' That's a first for me.

" It's nice" he repeats "But the stroke here...." he takes the brush from my hand which I surprisingly feel a little too reluctant to give "It goes like this.... "he says correcting the minor flaw and hands the brush back to me and I oddly feel relieved to get it back

"Except that everything is very nice, now continue," he says walking away.

And I look at my paintbrush dumbfound trying to understand when I had developed a sudden love for paint brushes??

Whatever I shrug as I get back to painting, just the first day of class and I'm already painting like a pro!! The thought makes me smile.

Well, not exactly a pro but I feel good when I have the paintbrush in hand and a canvas in front of me.

At the end of the class,

Me:smile

Canvas: no more blank.

The canvas is my buddy.

I walk out of the class considerably happier but my 'Move the hell away from me' look is still in full effect.

Humans make me weary.

And the next class is a testimony.

Calculus

I glare at board willing it to go up in freaking flames and the teacher along with it.

Mr.long nose, no that's not his name,I gave him that name because of his long nose which he continuously goes around poking in others business.

He made me introduce myself in front of the class but I let it go because he wasn't the only teacher who did that to me but then he started harassing me by asking formulas.

And how the hell was I supposed to answer that?

You don't learn calculus in hell, you learn to burn, punish etc,etc.

Even the girl nearest to me looks like she wants to use a bazooka on him, judging by the looks of other students around me its clear that she isn't the only one.

I'm glaring down at my book trying to make sense of the crap I'm writing.

when Mr.long nose's disapproving voice gains my attention

"You are late, Mia "

Standing by the door of the classroom I see the pretty girl I have seen in the cafeteria who certainly doesn't look too happy about standing there.

"I had to see off the basketball team"

"Like they wouldn't have left without you, isn't it?"He says sarcastically.

Mia doesn't exactly look polite when she mumbles something which is too low for me to hear.

"Excuses,Excuses"Mr.long nose shakes his head disapprovingly " But I have something for you that can help you prove your worth,"

And he suddenly goes form being a teacher to acting like a godfather or something

Mia doesn't look thrilled about it either.

"Help the new student over there" to my absolute shock he points a finger towards me "Help him learn what he has missed.... daily, after school or maybe lunch, I don't care"

"What?"Both of us say shocked at the same time.

He ignores us "If his grades are low you will suffer for it "He says looking at Mia

"There is no way I'm helping him or anything,"She says defiantly

"Then say bye to your good grades,Mia sanders"

The entire class goes silent and I can't help but wonder if this particular teacher has some sort of enmity towards her.

Tor a second it looks like she might say the teacher to go to hell.

No problem, When I get back to hell I'll be delighted to personally pick a spot for him.

But then she sighs and grudgingly says "Fine" though the venom in that one word is undeniable and the way she shoots daggers at me as if I am the reason all this happened to her is undeniable too.

I glare back at her.

'It's not my problem you got into this mess, I didn't ask the teacher to force anyone to help me so you better keep your attitude to yourself'

She continues to shoot daggers at me until she takes her seat somewhere in the middle of the classroom and since I'm in the back I can only see the back of her long brown haired head but I'm pretty sure If she had a third eye at back of her head she would still be glaring at me.